Sumner Clarren

 Where am I?

We live in Silver Spring, Maryland, just outside of Washington, DC.

What am I doing?

I am retired after twenty years working for an Information Technology firm in the DC area, McDonald Bradley. That was my last career. Before that I carried out research as part of evaluating public programs at the Urban Institute, and elsewhere. I also did a little clinical work (psychology) in the Montgomery County Police Department, Office of Stress Management. Like a lot of us, I spent 5 years in the service (Air Force), and the GI Bill helped me get my Ph.D. in clinical psychology from Ohio State in 1972. I went back to night school in the 80s and got an MS in Computer Science from Johns Hopkins in 1985.

What about my family?

I married my classmate Jean Bails just after graduating from Oberlin College in 1961 – as an English Major. She was a French Literature major at Oberlin. We have now been married for 46 years. We adopted our one daughter. We have two grandchildren, a boy and a girl, now in their teens.

What else keeps me occupied?

I had been singing with an a cappella chamber choir in the area called Polyhymnia until I was elected Senior Warden at the Episcopal Church where I attend. That job takes a fair amount of my time. My wife and I have been doing as much traveling as possible – especially now that we are both retired. We just finished a cruise between Moscow and St. Petersburg in August. Earlier in the year, we were in Croatia and Italy. I take photographs and write a little poetry. I play and collect board games - you may not remember I was captain of the chess team in High School.

My message to the class of ’57:

Growing older has its problems, but the alternative seems worse. Some thoughts…

The Ground of Seeing

Vision more than a little fuzzy now:

Street signs smear, license plate letters wash away.

Words are recognized by their absence when I speak:

Friends expected but not there.

I miss the words I cannot name. As though

Someone stole the raisins from the raisin bread

Leaving random holes discovered once it’s sliced.

Is this the way it goes? In the end,

A hollow loaf with just the crust?

Or is this the mystic’s path, certain knowledge,

Not captured by a word?

Is this the ground of seeing?

I am looking forward to “catching-up” with those at the reunion. At least as much as we can do in a few days.