by Judy Henderson Prather ’73, DMin ’02
BAA Communications Coordinator

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.
–Joseph Parry

I just returned from my fifth annual girlfriends’ reunion. Thanks to Janet–our organizer and the heart of our group–and thanks to the connecting power of e-mail, about a dozen women from the Childress High School Class of 1969 come together every June for an extended weekend reunion. And thanks to Deanna, who has a big, rambling house and the gift of hospitality, we all stay together for a three-day slumber party. What took Janet’s insistent pushing to get started has very quickly become a cherished tradition, and we choose the next year’s dates each year before we leave.

I confess I was less than eager that first year. It had been thirty-five years, and I hardly knew these women anymore. To be completely honest, I wasn’t even sure I would like them, but those feelings quickly evaporated. Our first evening together, Lileesa looked around the room and said, “You know, girls, we grew up good.”

She was right. Not that any of our lives have been perfect; each one of us has had her share of losses, pain, and poor choices. But there was so much grace in that room, you could almost reach out and touch it. And while we couldn’t be more different in some ways, we’ve avoided potential conflicts with one simple rule: Only two subjects are off limits–politics and calories.

Starting on Friday, new arrivals are met at their car with hugs and help carrying luggage. And when it’s time to leave, the ritual is performed in reverse. During the days between, we stay up long past our normal bedtimes and wake when we feel like it. We lounge in pajamas without any make-up, share kids’ and grandkids’ pictures and stories, eat and talk and laugh, then eat and talk and laugh some more. We divide up the chores and work in at least one shopping adventure and a good chick-flick. And on Sunday morning, we gather to share concerns and celebrations and offer our prayers for each other.

I spent my childhood with these “girls.” Without them, a big chunk of my story would be missing. It’s a celebration of old friendships, and you just can’t make new old friends.

Part of what we’re about here at the alumni association is keeping old friends connected–to Baylor, but also to each other. To classmates and teachers who influenced us, shared our stories, watched us grow and change, laughed and cried with us, celebrated new babies and new jobs. To those people you can turn to and say, “Do you remember…?” And they do.

Here at the BAA, we love hearing about alumni reunions. Let us know about yours. If you’re like the CHS Class of 1969, you’ll take lots of pictures. (I’m talking LOTS of pictures!) So send us one to include in Family Album or Down the Years. If it helps you get started, call just one old friend and make plans to meet during one of the programs sponsored by the alumni association. After all, these kind of reunions are the main reason we plan Homecoming, Heritage Club, and Fling.

And as you read this, if you’re feeling envious because your old friends don’t ever get together, then do something about it! Toss the idea out there and see what happens. You’ll find that e-mail is a wonderful way to organize.

But you can’t have Janet–she’s ours.

***

To learn more about this year’s very special 100th anniversary of Baylor Homecoming on October 23-25, go to Homecoming.

By Todd Copeland

Editor, The Baylor Line

I have a confession to make.

Before this spring, I had never been to Independence, the small town near Brenham where Baylor University began back in the 1840s and where the Baylor Alumni Association (BAA) was founded in 1859. Baylor alumni and current students make regular pilgrimages there, but I had never been among their number. As such, my Baylor credentials could have been viewed as somewhat suspect.

I finally rectified the situation on May 6 during my drive back to Waco after attending the listening session held in Houston the previous evening by the presidential search and advisory committees. Like many before me, I walked across the land of the former male campus, now turned into Baylor on Windmill Hill, where the traces of Tryon Hall and other buildings are documented. And I visited Old Baylor Park, where the four iconic columns of Baylor Female Building still stand.

On my drive back home, I mulled over the impressions generated by what I had seen and the implications of what Baylor has meant to Texas and generations of students. Granted, what remains in Independence is only a ghostly presence upon the landscape. The buildings are gone, and the students and professors of Baylor’s early years are no longer among us.

But the past has not been erased. The Baylor we know and love today has been bequeathed to us, a legacy created out of harsh circumstances that has endured times of great challenge, such as the Civil War and the Great Depression. The vision of Baylor’s founding fathers and the work of countless faculty members, board members, and administrators remain with us in the ongoing life of the institution.

Similarly, as former students we carry the legacy of learning and discovery that our Baylor professors granted to us. It informs our daily lives even today, no matter how far we are removed from our days at Baylor. We carry their lessons in our hearts.

And, through our loyalty and support of our alma mater, we pass that legacy down to today’s Baylor students. We keep the institution strong. We move forward most effectively and with the greatest amount of integrity, as a Baylor family, when we endeavor to improve our Baylor while honoring the past, by extending the life of the legacy we’ve inherited. By staying true to the institution’s historic core values, we pass them along to younger generations.

These meditations lead me to Juan Yaquian, the subject of our upcoming summer issue’s cover story. He is a direct recipient of this legacy, as are all of today’s Baylor students, which now include one of my nieces and one of my nephews. And he is the embodiment of one of the BAA’s core values, which we have been exploring in the Line for the past year and a half. The particular BAA core value in this case is one that states, “We believe in the power of higher education to change the world.”

When I began casting around for a student who would “flesh out” this core value, I asked Betsy Vardaman, associate dean of the College of Arts and Sciences, for suggestions. I told her I was looking for a current student whose access to higher education at Baylor has truly been a life-changing opportunity. She immediately nominated Yaquian, who at the time was a fifth-year electrical and computer engineering student from Temple. “None of my other students have had to scale the kinds of barriers Juan has had to scale,” she said of him.

Yaquian is the latest in a long, unbroken line of students whose lives have been lifted up for having been a beneficiary of the Baylor experience. It is our duty, as alumni, to help extend that line far into the future by staying vigilant in defense of Baylor’s best interests and serving today’s students with the gifts with which we have been blessed.

By Lisa Asher

The June issue of the Baylor Alumni Association’s e-mail newsletter was sent this week, which means that I spent a lot of my time over the last few days online. As editor of Between the Lines, I write the newsletter text, the Family Album section, and usually a story or two each issue. Then I create the electronic version of all of the stories and of the newsletter itself.

The process has changed quite a bit since the BAA first began sending out the newsletter. That first issue, in July 2001, was a leap into the unknown–for the university and for me. Between the Lines (BTL) was the first online publication in Baylor’s history to be sent to all alumni and friends with a good e-mail address. Here is the message that greeted readers at the top of that first issue:

We’d like to introduce a new addition to the Baylor family. No, it’s not the new bear cub, Joy, named after chancellor emeritus Herbert Reynolds’s wife, Joy. It’s Between the Lines, a complimentary monthly e-mail newsletter published by the Baylor Alumni Association.

While the Baylor Line magazine reaches alums four times a year, there’s a lot of information we’d like to share with you in between the Line issues. At the first of each month, we will send a newsletter to update you on campus activities and alumni association events, and to let you get to know campus folks and fellow alums.

Reading the story list for that first issue is like walking back through time. In addition to a preview of the summer 2001 Baylor Line, we covered the ongoing construction of Truett Seminary and the Baylor Law School and featured a Q&A with men’s head basketball coach Dave Bliss.

I still remember my interview with Bliss, who, after we had talked, took me outside the Ferrell Center to show me his favorite tree. I still have a hard time reconciling that image of him with the one of scandal and disgrace that would later emerge.

From the very first issue, BTL was a success–while some people did unsubscribe, many more have joined our mailing list over the years. We currently send to more than 70,000 people, and every month, I get more requests to be put on the list.

We’ve adapted our story selection as readers’ interests have changed. But a few important things have remained: we continue to offer news about campus, alumni, and BAA goings-on. We continue to include the Family Album story, a collection of alumni-submitted photos that remains our most popular feature.

And we continue to feature original stories, not recycled press releases. Our stories are written by the BAA’s communications staff–thankfully, aided by eager student interns.

The June 2009 issue includes a BAA history story by Todd Copeland; an alum profile of Jim Van Valkenburg ‘68, written by Judy Prather; and a story about a new mission program at Baylor’s Louise Herrington School of Nursing, written by student intern Claire Moncla.

Oh, and there’s also a couple of things in there from yours truly. We love creating this historic publication–and we’re glad you enjoy reading it!

By Claire Moncla, Student Intern, Baylor Line

My grandfather has terminal cancer and may not last through this week. Since my mother first called me to tell me the news of his worsening condition, I have been upset and angry as I think about the tragedy of an ending life: the mourning family, bereft spouse, and ownerless possessions.

But lately I have had a change in perspective. Now that I am interning with the Baylor Alumni Association and learning and writing about influential or famous alumni, I am constantly presented with the idea of legacy.

My grandfather did not write any famous books or make many large donations to Baylor. He didn’t even attend the university. But although he might not seem like a legacy in Baylor history, he has had a subtle, yet profound, effect on the university.

My grandfather sent three of his four children–including my mother–to Baylor. He came to football games, paid for sorority involvement, and attended parental events. He told my mother and her sisters that he would fund everything they needed as long as they got a degree in four years and didn’t get married until they graduated.

He made it possible for my mother to attend a university she came to love–a love which she passed on to me. I grew up visiting the campus and hearing about her student days here: the beautiful campus, erratic dorm life, her favorite history professors, and early days dating my father.

My grandfather was very excited when I also decided to attend Baylor. He and my grandmother came to parents’ weekend during my freshman year, met my professors, and walked with me around the campus. When I decided to study abroad my sophomore spring semester at Baylor, my grandfather made it possible for me to go.

These acts are why my grandfather has a legacy at Baylor. He might not have done anything famous or ground breaking for the university, but he is a thread in the fabric that holds Baylor together.

This fabric, composed of average citizens, sends their children and grandchildren to Baylor, passing their love for the university from generation to generation. They write the tuition checks. They fill the seats at football games and graduation and cheer around the bonfire at homecoming. They are part of the life and breath of the university.

All good things come to an end. I’ve heard the saying countless times, but I’ve rarely thought about how all good things also have a beginning. Continuing to think about my grandfather dying as an ending is not giving the appreciation and honor he deserves. Instead I am focusing on his life as the beginning of many good things. One of the important ones to me is my grandfather’s legacy of love and support of Baylor– something I am privileged to continue.