biggest source of anger and avarice

the realization that you wasted the time you were given. time well
spent leaves no violent residue, or regret.

Movie: Slumdog Millionaire

After all the build-up, a disappointment, cliched and predictable.
Just a novelty being a Bolly-Holly hybrid. The unalloyed love story
carries it for sheer energy, but it has no real resonance beyond the
archetype. Goodies and baddies and kids running around trying to stay
alive. And for a gritty look at the life force animating the
underclass facing impossible odds, the Brazilian "City of God" is in a
whole other league. Makes you realize how real and genuine something
like Truffaut's Small Change was, saccharine as it may have been it
wasn't steamrollered by the same old hollywood template, as this one
was. Liked the dancing for the end credits, though--nice bollywood
touch.

Response from BJ

(Wanamaker)

Dear Kevin,

I am so very saddened about what you have told me regarding Undine. It
wasn't that long ago that I was entertaining my kids at the dinner
table with remembrances of my friend Enidu and her younger brothers
Kram and Nivek. We all wondered what became of you all.

I am just amazed that you and your mother remember me. I don't even
remember me from back then. In fact, I remember distressingly little
about anything to do with those years. I lived in a tiny house with my
mother, younger sister and a father who drank heavily and had a
volatile and unpredictable temper. I think I must have retreated into
my own little world and tried not to be noticed most of the time.
Consequently, I think a lot of things must also have escaped my notice.

I do remember that I was infatuated with Undine the moment I saw her,
which must have been the first day of third grade. She looked like a
princess to me. I wished fervently that I could be her friend, never
for a moment thinking that that was even a remote possibility. But
miraculously she wanted to be my friend, too and so we became.
Visiting your house was like entering a fairy tale to me. It was an
escape from my own life. I only remember a few details of our visits:
sleeping over on the floor of her bedroom downstairs, your dog
Duchess, eating lamb chops and blueberry muffins for dinner (still one
of my favorite combinations!), walking down the road to ramble through
some seemingly vast wooded area, making prank phone calls from Gary
Doolittle's kitchen, going along to one of her riding lessons(?),
going to your swim club, Trick or Treating together one Halloween...
But they're all just disparate memories that don't make a complete
story. I don't remember what we talked about. I think I was just happy
to be in her presence and never sought anything more.

I don't know when or why we drifted apart. As I recall, she was quite
popular. I think we started 7th grade in the same Jr. High but we
weren't in any classes together. Then you moved from Gulph Mills. I
know I spent one night in your new house and once she came with me to
a dance at the Jr. High. I think I missed her but maybe I just didn't
know how to maintain our relationship under changing circumstances.
The only other thing I remember was the last time I saw her. It must
have been August 1976. I really wanted to see her again before I left
for college at Penn State. I just got in the car one Friday evening
and drove to the house where I had last visited her. Alas, your family
had moved again, but the present owner kindly told me your new
address. I was able to find the house and she answered the door when I
knocked. You and Mark were watching TV. I think Undine and I talked
for a while in the kitchen. Your father came home and chatted for a
bit, then I left and drove back home.

No one else ever filled her place. In reality, I don't know whether
she even filled the place I constructed for her in my memory. I think
that might have been the impetus for trying to find her--to gain some
insight and perspective on what really happened, what life was really
like. Those questions may never get answered now. Instead there are
only more: How? Why? What if?

After Penn State, I went to graduate school and got a PhD in
Geophysics from Princeton, where I met my husband Bruce. I worked on
the research staff first at Cornell then at Lawrence Livermore
Laboratory in CA. Bruce was hired as a professor at the University of
Minnesota and we moved here in January 1991. I tried to continue my
research here for about ten years, then I dropped out of the science
community and started learning how to make and design different kinds
of textiles, which has been a life-long interest of mine. I don't know
whether it will lead anywhere, but I am just trying to enjoy the
process. I have two children--my daughter Irene, 13 and son Harrison,
8 1/2 (I started a little late). I'm so glad Undine had children of
her own.

You are so kind to take the time to write to me. It means a lot to me.
I would welcome the opportunity to stay in touch. Thank you for the
invitation to visit--I would like that very much. And please stop and
see us if your are ever in the neighborhood of Minneapolis. Please
give my regards to your mom. I hope you will write back if you have
the time and inclination.

Sincerely,
BJ

Letter to BJ

Hi Barbara,

Thanks for reconnecting. Someone told me that you had inquired after
Undine on a blog for Elm Court, where we used to live. I am Undine's
youngest brother Kevin. I remember you well from when the years when
we lived at Gulf Mills.

I am so sorry to confirm your apprehensions. Undine died in July of
2001. She had struggled a very long time with alcoholism, and at age
43 she died of liver failure. Undine had developed a problem with
alcohol pretty much ever since college at St. Lawrence University, but
our family was pretty obtuse about recognizing it until the late 90s,
when it became pretty apparent at a family reunion. Even so, in the
regrettable dysfunction of our dealing with it, we were not effective
in helping her confront, let alone overcome, her addiction until we
finally did a major intervention as a family in '98. This resulted in
her agreeing to go with me to undergo treatment and spend time in a
very therapeutic place called the Pavilion in Asheville, NC for a
month, at the end of which time we all went down to support her
resolve to stay sober and live as a recovered alcoholic. Undine had
one very good year following that, which I am thankful for, and got to
reconnect in meaningful ways with her then teenage daughters. Undine
had two identical twin girls in 1984 (Undine and Hilary) and a third
daughter in 1987 (Alyssa). They are all now wonderful young women,
remarkably open and positive. They would I'm sure, remind you of
Undine herself. I was especially glad that Alyssa got that extra year
with her mom, because of the three she was probably the hardest hit by
Undine's addiction, and spent the most alone time with her, often
taking care of her. In spite of an increasingly debilitating problem,
which had resulted in many harrowing episodes of emergency trips to
the hospital, detox, etc, Undine remained at core a very life-
affirming person and mother, with a wicked sense of humor and fierce
love for her daughters. Her relationship with her husband, Chris, was
more complicated and, in brief, was not one of support for overcoming
her addiction. They separated and she lived nearby. Unfortunately,
in one of the AA programs she had attended in the years before the
intervention, she had befriended a man who was an alcoholic. They
moved in together and for a time they supported each other in not
drinking, but then unfortunately enabled each other in drinking
again. After a month of relapsing she died.

In spite of the fact that she had a severe drinking problem for
virtually her entire adult life, Undine had an effect on others that
was remarkable. Nobody laughed harder nor judged people less. She
took real joy in the happiness of her children and friends, and was a
very empathetic listener to other's problems, even as she struggled to
suppress the consequences of her own. I know she regretted falling
victim to the power of alcohol and felt few could understand it; even
so she was never resigned to it, always feeling she would overcome it
in the end (a promise she made to me nearly every time I saw her). I
know she didn't want to die young and miss out on all she could see
unfold, especially in her daughters' lives.

Of all her childhood friends, you really do stand out in my memory.
Particularly your infectious laugh, which we often talked about. I
remember being quite tickled (maybe when I was 4 or 5) at eliciting
the prized B.J. Wanamaker laugh from my perch in the backseat when we
were driving you somewhere (probably home from visiting our house).
When I told my mom you had inquired after Undine she asked me to send
along her best. She is doing ok now, living in Boulder CO. Of
course she was devastated by Undine's death, and no one tried more
than my mom to help her, rescuing her countless times when she was at
her worst, looking into endless therapies and ideas, none of which
ultimately helped.

My parents divorced in the early 90s and both remarried, although my
mom's 2nd marriage lasted only a year, but she now has a very
supportive companion. My brother Mark had lived in Boulder (married,
two kids) but got called to work directing the Nature Conservancy in
CA and recently he took on work heading up a climate change initiative centered in SF. Me, I'm a documentary filmmaker
living in NYC, married and two young kids. If you ever swing by these
parts let us know; we'd love to see you. And if you ever want to get
in touch with Undine's daughters I can pass along their info. As I
mentioned, they are three wonderful spirited women and I have no doubt
they would enjoy hearing from someone who knew their mom so long ago.
I'm fairly certain no one who knew Undine from that time (other than
family) has ever talked to them about their mom.

It would be great to hear what you have been up to all these years,
whenever you find the time.