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NOVEMBER 2 0 0 1 Alumni News
News Associates: Debbie Kennison, Emily Richards
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After 30 years with the National Park Service, Dan Brown
still loves the two things he joined up for: appreciative
sightseers and gorgeous vistas. He and his colleagues often
joke, he says, about "being paid in sunsets."
As superintendent of the Blue Ridge Parkway, Brown oversees
the most often visited unit of the National Park system,
which draws some 20 million visitors a year. The scenic
469-mile drive starts in North Carolina's Smoky Mountains
and meanders its way through 29 counties, ending up at the
Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. The Parkway offers
more than 280 overlooks and more than 350 miles of trails.
As superintendent, Brown oversees the many departments that
keep the Blue Ridge Parkway beautiful and safe for visitors.
He also spends much of his time with community leaders,
members of congress, and grassroots environmental action
groups. Because the Parkway is so long and narrow, land
potentially unprotected--from cellular towers, strip mines,
and residential development--is nearly always within sight.
Thus, Brown must juggle environmental concerns with visitor
satisfaction, community development ambitions with park
quality control. It's really not so much a juggling act, he
notes, as it is a matter of educating his various
constituents on this fact: protecting the park is a mutually
beneficial proposition.
"A study has shown that the Blue Ridge Parkway brings in
$2.2 billion dollars annually to the surrounding area,"
Brown says. "When we are able to impress upon the nearby
communities the value of the park, we show that what's good
for the park is good for people and businesses outside the
park."
What's good for the park is clean air. Unfortunately, that's
a commodity in increasingly short supply.
"Twenty years ago," Brown says, "from certain scenic lookout
points along the Parkway, visitors could regularly have a
60- to 80-mile visibility. Today that view often shrinks to
six to 10 miles. It's very sad."
He's hopeful, however. "There are EPA regulations pending
that will require older power companies to clean up their
act, which will help," he notes. "It won't happen overnight,
but with public support we'll see restoration of air
quality, I have every reason to believe."
Brown's love for the outdoors began in boyhood, when he was
growing up in Gettysburg. The green and rolling view from
his bedroom window was the hallowed ground of the Gettysburg
battlefield--fields and copses and hilltops where thousands
of men fought to their deaths in one of the most pivotal
moments in American history.
"There's no more moving experience," Brown says, "than to
stand at the long Union line and envision the battle, and
the huge price those men paid."
During summers off from classes at Johns Hopkins, Brown went
home to work as a seasonal employee of the national military
park, giving tours and Civil War lectures to visitors.
"I was impressed with the quality of the people who worked
for the Park Service. It seemed like more than just a job to
them; there's a real sense of pride in protecting special
places in this country."
He was accepted to graduate school in history, but opted
instead to accept a full-time ranger position at Gettysburg
Park, where he worked until 1975. His next two decades with
the Park Service included stops at the Blue Ridge Parkway;
Fort Pulaski National Monument on the south side of
Savannah, Georgia; Chickamauga and Chattanooga National
Military Park in Georgia; and Natchez Trace Parkway in
Tupelo, Mississippi.
During these stints he was a jack-of-all-trades. "Park
rangers are federal law enforcement officers. We'd conduct
investigations of misdemeanors, do patrols, investigate
accidents. And we'd also be tour guides, history teachers,
environmentalists," he says. "As our programs have become
more sophisticated, we've had to become more
specialized."
What remains constant is the importance of this country's
national parks. "The idea of a system of national parks is
one of the truly great ideas to come out of this country,"
Brown says. "Since Yellowstone was established in 1872 as
the world's first, the idea has spread all over the world.
When [people] come here and see the vast forests and the
wildlife, they leave with a special feeling for this
place."
Vietnam, Korea: Remembering Those Who
Served and Died
If we don't do this, then nobody's going to. That's what we
felt," says Mike Haas, one of several members of the class
of '67 who decided at their 30th reunion to organize a
Vietnam and Korean War memorial at Johns Hopkins. The
plaque, they agreed, should be placed beside existing WWI
and WWII memorial plaques in the Gilman Hall lobby.
Haas published an announcement of their plan in the Johns
Hopkins Magazine in 1997. "I got a lot of mail," he says.
Nevertheles, the list now compiled of Hopkins men who died
in those wars is not long. Two in Korea, six in Vietnam. Lt.
Colonel Roller, director of Military Science at Hopkins,
suspects that there may have been more who lost their lives,
but the information is hard to track down.
It's not just Vietnam-era contemporaries who look forward to
the memorial's installment. Kevin Carroll, A&S '94, says, "I
had the opportunity to serve in Bosnia. My ROTC classmates
served in Haiti, Kuwait, Korea, and the Sinai. We all came
back. The least we can do is remember those of earlier
generations who served in more dangerous times and did not
return."
Alumni who died in Vietnam:
If you know of any alumni not mentioned here, please contact
LTC Roller at 410-516-7838 or at
charles.roller@us.army.mil.
To make a gift to the University in memory of a Korean or
Vietnam War veteran, please contact the executive director
of Annual Giving, Regional Giving, and Alumni Programs,
Fritz Schroeder, at 410-516-0363 or at
fschroed@jhu.edu.
"Although librarians and booksellers might shelve this book
with works on political science," writes Monmonier in his
preface, "I approached the project as a study in the history
of cartography--an examination of how legislators,
redistricting officials, and constitutional lawyers use maps
as both tools and weapons." His scholarly, illustrated book
goes on to offer a scathing indictment of the creative
"remapping" that's been done in recent decades. --Emily
Richards
In the competition for top high school students, Johns
Hopkins University now has an ace in the hole: the Woodrow
Wilson Research program. Notes Paula
Ferris Einaudi, associate dean for development in the
Krieger School of Arts and Sciences, "Harvard might just say
to these kids, 'You're accepted. Come on down,' but Hopkins
is able to say, 'You're accepted. Plus, here's $10,000 and a
faculty advisor to help you with the research project you
have in mind. Participate in your own education. Discover
new knowledge. Get published before you're 20.'"
Established in 1999, the Woodrow Wilson Undergraduate
Research Fellowship program annually awards up to $10,000
each--over three or four years--to approximately 30 incoming
freshmen and returning sophomores. It was made possible
through the generosity of University trustee J. Barclay
Knapp, who endowed the deanship for the School of Arts and
Sciences,
which in turn funded the program's start-up. The program is
a perfect example of how gifts to the University translate
directly to unique educational opportunities for the most
deserving students.
This year's crop of precocious researchers includes Maha
Zehra Jafri, who plans to produce a documentary on the
American gun culture. Vincent Christopher Luca proposes an
investigation of the manmade mysteries of Peru. Michael
Boucher will study the educational structure of a Baltimore
City high school, where fewer than 10 percent of students go
on to college. Lena A. Moffitt will use her fellowship money
to travel to the Kenyan Taita-Rukinga Wildlife Conservancy,
to study elephant preservation efforts. Jessica Jinhee Lee
will study the molecular effects of the ras protein
expression on the development of tumor growth.
When he was a high school senior, sophomore Terry Dean saw
Hopkins' invitation to apply for a Woodrow Wilson
fellowship. "But I didn't want to appear naíve, writing
something like 'I want to cure such-and-such disease,' so I
didn't apply for the fellowship," he says. In his freshman
year, he took a course called Sleep, Dreams, and Altered
States of Consciousness taught by Richard Allen, assistant
professor of neurology in the School of Medicine. "I
approached Dr. Allen after class to tell him about my
interests, and from that, I started working for him on his
restless-legs-syndrome sleep studies at Bayview."
With real research experience under his belt, Dean was
emboldened to propose a project of his own: the effects of
sleep deprivation on the mood and cognitive function of
college students. He says, of his sleep-deprived peers,
"It's like someone said, 'Sleep, social life, work--pick
two.'" We can only hope that, in conducting the research
project he designed with the help of Allen, Dean will be
able to do all three. --ER
Stand nose to nose with a polar bear (separated only by a
window pane). Cruise the Caribbean in a luxury yacht,
stopping to explore gardens and wild plant life with the
Knapp Dean of Arts and Sciences, Richard McCarty, one of the
world's leading experts on plant life, as your companion.
Travel down the Mississippi, from Memphis to New Orleans, or
explore the vineyards of Burgundy with Orest Ranum,
professor of French history.
"Hopkins alumni will have more to choose from than ever,"
says Marguerite Ingalls Jones, A&S '74, SPSBE '88 (MAS),
director of the Johns Hopkins Travel Program, a service
provided by Alumni Relations to all Hopkins alumni, friends,
and parents.
"In addition to our regular offerings--such as alumni
colleges in France and Italy, a tour of Egypt--we've
included some truly extraordinary adventures in the 2002
itinerary."
Three of the trips in particular, Jones says, represent a
real departure from past alumni trips: Polar Bear Watch,
Gardens of the Caribbean, and a Volunteer Program in
Romania.
The Romanian trip, which is tax-deductible, puts travelers
to work, for two to three weeks, in either a Romanian
children's hospital or school. Those who choose to work in
the hospital will spend their time comforting and playing
with children and babies, many of whom are orphans suffering
mostly from a deficit of human touch. In the school, alumni
volunteers will teach English. ("No teaching experience
required," the travel brochure assures.)
Alumni travel prices range from around $1,500 for a week in
Florence, Italy, to around $6,000 for the Caribbean tour
aboard a tall ship (See ad, page 63.)
Another first for the program: on November 4 at the Hopkins
Club on the Homewood Campus, the Alumni Relations Office
will host a travel preview and reunion "fte," at which
alumni and friends can visit with faculty and travel company
reps to learn more about the upcoming trips and reunite with
travel companions.
Paul Greengard, A&S '71
Nearly a year has passed, but it still hasn't quite sunk in.
The call came, as it always does for Americans living on the
East Coast, very early in the morning--at 5:15 a.m. to be
precise. "I remember hearing my daughter answer the phone,"
says Paul Greengard, "but I had been asleep."
The caller asking for Greengard identified himself as the
secretary of the Nobel Prize Committee in Stockholm. Was it
really necessary to wake him? Greengard's daughter wanted to
know.
"That's when I picked up the phone," says Greengard with a
laugh. He learned he had won the 2000 Nobel Prize in
Physiology or Medicine for his pioneering discoveries of how
dopamine and other transmitters in the brain exert their
effects in the nerve cells. He would share the prize with
Swedish researcher Arvid Carlsson and Eric Kandel of
Columbia University.
Greengard heads the Laboratory of Molecular and Cellular
Neuroscience at Rockefeller University, where he is the
Vincent Astor Professor and director of the Zachary and
Elizabeth M. Fisher Center for Research on Alzheimer's
Disease. He is the 27th individual affiliated with Johns
Hopkins to receive the prize, a lineage that dates back to
Woodrow Wilson, who received a Ph.D. in history from Hopkins
in 1886 and won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1919. Thirteen of
the 27 have won the prize in medicine.
Two months after receiving the call, Greengard and his wife
were on an airplane heading for Stockholm. "The whole event
has a sort of dreamlike quality in my memory," he says of
the December 10, 2000, awards ceremony.
"There were nine days of endless functions. It was really
quite an extraordinary event." A member of the Swedish
foreign service was waiting at the Stockholm airport to
escort them unimpeded through customs. A chauffeured
limousine was provided for the duration of their stay.
On the evening of the awards ceremony they attended a dinner
for 1,800 people. At one point Greengard was asked to escort
Princess Madeleine, youngest child of the Swedish royal
family, who at age 18 was making her debut in society. "She
was the focus of attention in the Swedish press," he
recalls. "It was a constant barrage of photographs." Another
evening, they were guests of the royal family at an intimate
dinner party for 120--all seated at one long table.
"My wife tends to be a vegetarian," Greengard says of their
dinner at the palace, "and so she asked the man serving her
what was on the plate. He said, 'Excuse me, my English is
not so good, but you are eating Bambi.'"
In addition to all the dinners and functions, Greengard
remembers endless interviews with the Swedish press, which
transformed into endless requests for interviews from the
American press when he returned. He has also been asked to
speak by scores of professional organizations and other
groups, some of them entirely unrelated to his field of
expertise.
Despite all the excitement, Greengard views the award as an
acknowledgment rather than the culmination of his work. "I
think this is a wonderful step along the way, but I'm not
planning on retiring any time soon," he says. "In that
regard, it hasn't had a dramatic effect on my work." His
lab's discoveries at Rockefeller have provided a conceptual
framework for understanding how the nervous system functions
at the molecular level. Yet Greengard admits it is a field
that still faces a great number of unanswered questions and
offers enormous research potential.
"We are looking at a lot of pathways that cells use to
communicate with each other," he says of his research. It
may be--in fact, it's very likely--that in the realm of
brain physiology there are going to be many spectacular
advances in the future. Whether there will be a single,
all-governing principle discovered is a more difficult
question. I don't think so, but you never can tell." --Mike
Field
Carlos Sanchez-Gutierrez, Peabody '80
(MA)
Audiences and critics listening to the music of Carlos
Sanchez-Gutierrez for the first time have commented that its
distinctive and complex rhythms seem to root the composer's
works in a musical oeuvre outside the standard classical
repertoire. Some have suggested that the folklore and
peasant dances of his native Mexico form the basis of his
compositions.
But such musical detective work doesn't seem to
impress Sanchez-Gutierrez, who carefully resists allowing
his music to be easily pigeonholed. "I don't think it's
Mexican folklore," he says with a laugh. "I think it's rock
'n roll and Bartok they're hearing."
Although Sanchez-Gutierrez has written for all media,
including film, theater, and multimedia presentations, it is
primarily chamber and symphonic compositions played by live
musicians in front of live audiences that inspire him.
"Chamber ensembles and orchestras don't change as much as
media which is more technology-based," is how he describes
the challenge of finding new directions in sound from old
and well-established instruments. "That challenge excites
me. I'm aesthetically interested in the energy they can
create."
Sanchez-Gutierrez unleashes that energy by asking a high
degree of technical proficiency from the musicians who
perform his works. "My music tends to be virtuosic and
challenging for the players," he says. "I find that creating
works of great technical difficulty creates exciting and
energetic performances."
Demanding, yes, but incomprehensible not at all. One of the
hallmarks of Sanchez-Gutierrez's compositions is their
inherent sense of logic and internal structure. "Some new
music is so impenetrable that as a musician you're just
trying your best to keep your place," says Kurt Rohde, a
violist and 1986 Peabody graduate. "It's like an alien
abduction. When it's over you wonder, what just happened?"
Eight years ago, Rohde founded and now serves as artistic
director of the Left Coast Chamber Ensemble, a San
Francisco-based group specializing in new music. They have
previously performed two works by Sanchez-Gutierrez. "I find
that Carlos's pieces are evocative and they unfold in a
really imaginative way," Rohde says, "but they're also very
direct. It's actually clear what he wants to do."
Left Coast Chamber Ensemble has commissioned a new work by
Sanchez-Gutierrez, "De Kooning Movements II," to open its
2001-02 season. The composer is also at work on a
composition for marimba and clarinet that marimbaist Makoto
Nakura will feature in an October tour of Japan. In the
meantime, Sanchez-Gutierrez has also acquired a new
publisher in the Association for the Promotion of New Music,
and has released the first CD of some of his chamber
compositions, for which fellow composer Mario Lavista wrote
the liner notes.
"In the last 10 years or so I've been lucky to have been
commissioned to write music for projects that have
interested me," Sanchez-Gutierrez says of his growing body
of work. "I have never done anything in a medium in which I
didn't feel I had something to say." --MF
JHUpdate, A New Way to Stay
Connected
Chock full of headlines and links to interesting websites,
the inaugural issue of JHUpdate, a Hopkins e-newsletter
aimed at the University's alumni, debuted in August. Some
22,000 alums, who had registered their e-mail addresses with
the University, received the first newsletter, and within
hours, many had e-mailed back to say how happy they were to
be plugged into the Hopkins scene. One alum even wrote to
ask whether Hopkins offered any sort of Internet dating
service. (The answer, alas, is no, but an Alumni Relations
staff member points out, "Alumni events all over the country
are a great place to meet fellow alumni.")
Published monthly, JHUpdate is produced jointly by the
Office of Communications and Public Affairs, and the Office
of Alumni Relations. It includes three sections: University
News, What's Hot (links to websites around Hopkins), and
Alumni News (information about Alumni Association-sponsored
events and services).
To subscribe, send an e-mail to
lyris@list.alumni.jhu.edu,
with the word "subscribe" in the subject line.
School by the Pool: Post-War Summers at
SAIS
As spring gave way to summer back in 1946, librarians at the
School of International Studies in Washington, D.C.,
scrambled to pack up a third of the library's collection.
They loaded boxes of books onto large trucks, then watched
as the trucks roared away. Destination: Peterborough, New
Hampshire.
During that summer--and the ensuing three summers--SAIS
students, faculty, and staff relocated to the picturesque
New England town for an intensive, eight-week summer session that
became an idyllic hybrid: equal parts graduate school and summer
camp.
Peterborough was a sleepy town of 2,500 people that
burgeoned in the summer months as vacationing doctors,
lawyers, and other professionals from Boston and New York
migrated for the town's quaint charm and the nearby White
Mountains. Artists and musicians also summered in
Peterborough, the latter coming to study at the music
institute of composer Edward MacDowell.
In 1946, SAIS was but three years old, and as yet
unaffiliated with Johns Hopkins. For veterans coming into
the School on the G.I. Bill, the emphasis was on
acceleration. Students were eager to enter the new
international workforce that the post-war era had created.
The SAIS master's program was organized to be completed in a
calendar year, making an intensive summer program a virtual
necessity. Rather than force students to endure the hot,
humid months in un-air-conditioned Washington, D.C., SAIS
director Halford Hoskins opted to move the School to
Peterborough, where he owned a summer home.
The base of operations was Kendall Hall School, formerly a
private boarding school for girls. The columned white
building featured a large dining room, outdoor tennis
courts, and a swimming pool shaded by towering trees. It was
here that the 40 students enrolled in the program, both men
and women, came for classes in international relations, as
well as intensive language reviews in French, German,
Russian, Portuguese, Spanish, and Arabic. Nearby stables
provided the site for SAIS's makeshift library.
Though the students worked hard, the atmosphere was
informal. Professors and students struck up friendships, and
classes were often held under shady elm trees. Those were
also summers for romance--several couples met, fell in love,
and married.
"It was a very informal, pleasant atmosphere and occasion,"
says Priscilla Mason, who worked at SAIS for 25 years and
served as assistant to the director. "We were friends--all
of us--and we had a good time." Students found time for
scenic drives through the Monadnock region, weekends in the
White Mountains, and jaunts to nearby Boston. And Mason
fondly recalls picnics, tennis matches, and baseball games
held to provide relaxation from the grueling study schedule.
A highlight of the summers in New Hampshire--for both the
students and the citizens of Peterborough--were Sunday night
lectures at the local Unitarian church. There the audience
was treated to talks by some of the most influential
government leaders of the day, including Congressman Richard
Nixon.
Many nights, the students sat up late around a crackling
campfire discussing Hiroshima, the United Nations, and the
future of Europe. Despite intense conversations and
demanding coursework, those summers in New Hampshire were a
sort of reprieve, a time to reflect on where they'd been and
where they were going. "We weren't a typical group of
graduate students, because we'd just lived through the war,"
explains John Allen. "Even many of the girls had served, and
we were all young and happy to have it behind us."
The bucolic summer sessions in Peterborough came to an end
in 1950, when SAIS became affiliated with Johns Hopkins
University. --Susan Muaddi Darraj
Focus: Student "Send-Off"
Parties
Sometimes they're very dressy affairs, sometimes they're on
a beach," explains Alumni Relations staff member Deborah
Lazenby, of the summer "send-off" parties hosted by Hopkins
alumni across the nation. "Sometimes they involve hotdogs
and chips, other times crab cakes and hors d'ouevres served
on a silver tray."
The flavor differs according to the host, but all the
parties have a common goal: to bring together students from
a particular region who will be new to Hopkins in the fall.
In cities from Atlanta, Georgia, to Westchester, New York,
local alumni host these events in their homes, at their
clubs, or sometimes at a restaurant.
Quick Facts: Send-Off Party Sites
Recognizes personal, professional, or humanitarian
achievement
Recognizes outstanding service to the Johns Hopkins
University
Recognizes distinguished government service
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