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            Web Exclusives: 
              Under the Ivy 
              a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu 
             
            January 
              29, 2003: 
               
              Tiger, tiger everywhere 
             And not paper enough 
              to ink
              One of the perks (or pitfalls) of working for PAW, I learned in 
              my time as editor, is that you run into Princetonians everywhere 
              you go. Church, school, cocktail parties, ski slopes, the beach 
              ... strike up any casual conversation and the inevitable dialogue 
              follows: "So what do you do?" "I, uh, work at Princeton." 
              "Oh, really? My [mother/nephew/daughter/cousin/stepbrother] 
              went there! What do you do?" 
              This last question might have been asked out of polite interest, 
              but more likely it was in hope that the answer would be "I 
              work in the admission office." Alas for me, my answer ... I 
              edit the alumni magazine ... was much more likely to elicit knowing 
              looks than free drinks. "Aaaah," the person would say. 
              "Right. You're the one who screwed up the [design/class notes/memorials]."
              But every once in a while the conversation took a more positive 
              turn. In June of 2001, my family and I were invited to our next-door 
              neighbor's house for a high school graduation party for her daughter. 
              As we stood on the deck, the game began. "I'm the grandmother, 
              Joy Gabrielson," a beaming woman announced, shaking my hand. 
              And soon enough, the question came: "What do you do?" 
              As soon as I allowed that I edited PAW, all was revealed; her late 
              husband, Guy Jr., was Class of '43, and her son Mark, standing right 
              across the way, was Class of '78 (and Joy's daughter, Susan, though 
              not an alumna, was my neighbor).
              I didn't learn much more about the clan that day, but a couple 
              of years later, another casual conversation with Susan led to a 
              chat with her and with Joy about Guy, who died of a heart attack 
              in 1994. He was in many ways the prototypical Princetonian of his 
              generation: brilliant, dedicated, hard-working, charming, and athletic. 
              (Joy says that when he was courting her, he called from a climb 
              in the Grand Tetons. "I'm climbing the big one tomorrow," 
              he said, "and if you don't marry me I'm throwing myself off!")
              The son of a prominent lawyer and political figure ... Guy Sr. 
              was chair of the Republican national committee in the 1950s ... 
              he graduated with a degree in history and then reported immediately 
              to Fort Dix. He served as a first lieutenant in the Army Air Corps, 
              working in cryptography, until his discharge in 1946, when he ventured 
              north to claim his place at Harvard Law School. ("How long 
              have you been home?" the dean said to him, as Joy tells the 
              story. "Three days? Go home and see your mother. We'll wait 
              for you.")
              His career in corporate law began with his father's firm and was 
              punctuated by an unsuccessful 1954 run for Congress ... Susan keeps 
              a campaign poster ... and a long stint with Nicolet Industries, 
              which he served as chairman and CEO until he retired in 1980. In 
              1988, however, still busy with his private practice, his grandchildren, 
              and sailing, skiing, and mountain climbing, Guy decided there was 
              something missing, and he volunteered to help with the Legal Aid 
              office in his hometown county of Montgomery in Pennsylvania. In 
              interviews in 1991 ... when he won an award for his service ... 
              he explained that he felt his conscience calling him, that it was 
              important to reach out to provide justice to those who couldn't 
              afford it. 
              Not surprisingly, he was also active with his class, and in 1993 
              acted as special gifts chair for '43's 50th reunion, for which the 
              class raised more than a million dollars. After his death the following 
              year, his son Mark discovered in his office an enormous file of 
              correspondence, personal letters that had been individually written 
              and addressed to each of his few hundred classmates.
              So I can't blame Joy for her comment when we first met. Yes, she 
              did bring up PAW's memorials. "Don't make them too short," 
              she said. "So many of these guys accomplished so much; they 
              deserve it." She was right.   
              
             Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. You can 
              reach her at paw@princeton.edu 
              
              
              
            
             
               
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