MS. LEE: I'm going to call on Blair Stambaugh now to give our memorial resolutions.
MS. STAMBAUGH: It is the custom of the association to remember at the annual meeting those members who have died in the interim. There are two memorial resolutions. I will read the first, and then Joan Lonergan will read the second. This is a memorial for Diane Howell of the Bryn Mawr School.
Diane Howell was born on July 20th, 1922, and died January 29th, 2003. She attended local schools before matriculation at Northfield for her junior and senior years. There she enjoyed the school's work-study program and its values became hers.
After graduation, she entered Barnard College, where she majored in history and developed a lifelong interest in the college.
Following her graduation from Barnard, she served in the US Naval Intelligence in the final year and a half of World War II.
After her discharge she began her fulsome career in schools. She worked at Winsor, later returning for a second stint. She left Winsor for Milton, where she established friendships with many, including our own Margo Johnson.
She was appointed headmistress of the Bryn Mawr School in Baltimore in 1962, where she remained until June 1973. A former board chair there admired her integrity, her conscientiousness, and her analytical mind. She loved working with spaces and enjoyed the architectural puzzle of building a new lower school.
Diane was shy, though her board chair remembered a day sailing trip where Diane started out politely quiet, and after two Bloody Marys was standing on the fore deck saying, "A little to the right, a little to the left." Even as a sailor, she was a leader.
Parenthetically, as Diane's successor at Bryn Mawr, I remember being in awe of the fact that she personally did the schedule. She typed all correspondence herself, and she read the New York Review of Books as leisure reading. As a 32-year-old, I was incapable of any of the above, and deeply impressed.
Diane returned to Winsor and then on to Wyoming Seminary in central Pennsylvania. Her niece, Ellen Bloedel, wrote, and I quote, "When she retired, she built a modest house on land given to her by her cousin, on his farm in Huntington Mills, Pennsylvania. This house, a labor of love, much of it built with her own hands, lay rooted at the site of her happiest childhood memories on her uncle's farm. As children, Diane, her sister Flora, and their cousins spent whole summers clattering around the farm on ponies, splashing in the creek, and eating too many cherries at one time. Though she intended to make this her final home, she moved to Washington state to be with her sister in failing health, some dozen years later."
Subsequently they moved to Albuquerque, four years ago, where some of us got to see her at a NAPSG meeting there. Her retirement community was called the Full Life, appropriately. As her niece Ellen mentioned in her eulogy, "Diane loved the gifts of the mind, not in isolation, but in concert with a love of nature, wildlife, companion animals, music, travel, physical activity, games, and wit. Called Diney by her family, she was an accomplished poet and writer of comic verse. She adored dogs and cats, and never lived without them. She gave generously of her time and resources to literally dozens of educational and charitable institutions."
Whether you remember her as Ms. Howell, Diane, or Diney, this witty, quirky headmistress lived life with compassion and to the full. And I'm grateful for substantial help by Ellen Bloedel for that memorial.
And now let me call on Joan Lonergan, head of the Castilleja School for a memorial resolution.
MS. LONERGAN: This memorial tribute is for Margarita Espinosa, head of Castilleja School.
Margarita Espinosa was head of Castilleja School for 30 years. Her life there revolved around the school for nine decades, as a student in the class of 1922, a teacher, the principal, and devoted follower of Castilleja activities until her death in June 2002, at the age of 96.
Margarita Espinosa began Castilleja in fourth grade, shortly after her father was brought to Stanford University to help found the Foreign Language Department. After Castilleja, Margarita entered Stanford, earning a BA in English, an MA in Spanish, and a secondary certificate in education. It was natural for her to do her student teaching at Castilleja, and then to stay on as a Spanish teacher.
In 1937, Castilleja founder Mary Lockey addressed a letter to, "My dear Margarita," in which she declared that the young teacher of Spanish would be on campus from 9:00 in the morning until 6:00 in the afternoon six days a week. Quote, "You will have all of your Sundays free. Of course, occasionally we have to adjust our hours for parent conferences or for chaperoning responsibilities."
Her salary as a teacher with ten years of experience was $100 a month.
At the sound of the name Margarita Espinosa, some alumnae and ex-teachers automatically check their stockings, table manners, and grammar. A small woman, Miss Espinosa sat straight and tall, insisting that others do the same. Her name is still synonymous with what is proper, courageous, and useful.
Although she lived by all the rules of conduct that were an integral part of her background, Miss Espinosa thought with the independence of a broadly schooled scholar.
When Miss Espinosa became principal of Castilleja in 1941, she inherited a school that was well-established but also on the verge of bankruptcy. The faculty agreed to finish the year without pay so that seniors could graduate. Parents rallied and raised the funds needed to pay the faculty and staff. The following September, the school reopened with 95 students from kindergarten to grade 12, a $57,000 mortgage, $13,000 in bills, and no credit. Over the next several years, she worked tirelessly to rebuild the school. By 1949, all the previous bills and the mortgage were paid. Miss Espinosa then worked to consolidate the school, eliminating the elementary grades, expanding the existing campus, and doubling the number of students.
In those days, Miss Espinosa did everything from monitoring classes to college counseling. I'm sure there are one or two Stamford grads here at this meeting who remember her 12-inch rule, which was used to measure the distance between partners on the dance floor.
A stickler for fresh air, she even assigned certain teachers to keep windows open. Punctuality was highly prized. Since there were no clocks in the classroom, each teacher was obliged to synchronize her own watch to the clock in the administration hall. One teacher received a scathing note when she dismissed her class 30 seconds before the big clock chimed. She later learned that several others received the same admonition.
Miss Espinosa longed to have a scholarship program, but the school was not yet financially secure. As an alternative, she enrolled a few economically disadvantaged students, finding private patrons to support them. She firmly believed that every girl, not just the gifted or affluent, had a right to an education.
Castilleja girls knew their leader's highest priority was the development of conscience. Then following closely came the quest for knowledge.
Upon her retirement after 30 years as principal, Miss Espinosa was determined not just to have new experiences, but to continue her life of service to others. In 1971, as one exhausting career reached completion, she initiated another. She joined the Peace Corps, accepting a position as teacher of English at Ewha, the world's largest University for women in Korea. "I thought I would be teaching it in one of those little villages, but they asked me to be a professor. I always believed it was because of my white hair."
Miss Espinosa returned to Palo Alto and 30 more years of distinguished service as a volunteer and mentor on the Peninsula. For nine years I was the grateful beneficiary of her mentoring, support, and friendship. Her legacy of excellence is alive and well at Castilleja, and will be for decades to come.
MS. STAMBAUGH: As is our custom, would you please stand. We'll observe a memorial minute.
Thank you.