Dear Earnie

Dear Earnie,

I don’t remember whose idea it was that we room together in Connover Kronsage at UW Madison, but I do remember why I admired you from our high school days in Kenosha.

            You were a boy of uncommon grace and determination. Ambitious people can sometimes be overbearing. I myself have sometime been fierce and aggressive. You, on the other hand, seemed always to be steady and consistent in a passionate but courtly manner. I have no doubt that current friends and colleagues say that that same young man became the dedicated father, husband, surgeon and colleague they know now and love.

            You stretched and limbered up systematically and thoroughly in the spring prior to track practice. You kidded me about not preparing as carefully. You were right. I think I joked that maybe there was something wrong with you, because I had olive oil in my joints, and as a fellow Italian surely you must have had, too. Obviously your discipline made a lasting impression on me.

            Some days, I walked by your house to join you on the way to Mary D. Bradford High School. Kenosha High, to us then. You and your brother Ron were mandated by your attentive father to finish breakfast before leaving. I think oatmeal was a staple, and your father was firm. I liked that. Again, I hold the good memory.

            I don’t remember at all what we must have talked about. We just got along. What we three had in common was that we studied and learned. We paid attention. And most probably held common views.

            No one knew I was already thinking about becoming an actor. You may already have decided to be a doctor. I know for certain that you were taking pre-med courses in your sophomore year when I was a freshman and we were roommates. I know you found studies demanding. Tough going. I recall you telling us that while viewing your first dissection of a cadaver that you were nauseated and had to leave the viewing; but that you returned to overcome it. More than once, before your stomach settled? Uncommon grace and determination.

            You had a heavy course schedule. You spent long hours reading and writing. I did, too. However it came about—you recall the decision—I knew you were a person I wanted to have as a friend and colleague. I was in fact flattered that you, an upper classman (though but barely) would consider me for a roommate. But I take some credit that I had the good sense to choose you, too. One of my better decisions in life.

            When I began to appear in plays on the Student Union stage, you and others kidded me a little. I guess acting made me the Bohemian on the floor. But you enjoyed the idea. You and others came to see me in all five productions. Thanks for the encouragement. Remember Carter Denniston, Kent Gregorious, Bill Kaiser? Scholars, all.

            The next year I roomed with them just off campus.

            They and you, especially, in a seminal way, helped steady me in that sometimes wildest, most bewildering, exhilarating, gratifying yet often frightening, doubting and ultimately nourishing time of our lives.

            I am grateful. You live in my heart.

            With hugs and kisses, I am

                                                                                                Yours Truly forever,

                                                                                                            Daniel J. Travanti