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Sisterhood

Another Erma Bombeck conference has ended.

I’ll come home and friends will ask, so how was it? I’ll answer: Great, I loved it!

They will raise an eyebrow and wonder why I’m so uncharacteristically enthusiastic. Then they will smile at me the way people do when an older person indulges in reminiscences.

“I’m glad,” they’ll say, and quickly move on, lest I start talking about my love for pressed linens and starched curtains.

No! If you think the Erma Conference is quaint, you are wrong. Yes, we honor Erma, the writer many of us read and loved, the one who made us laugh aloud. But it is more  than that. This was my third conference and I was finally able to crystallize why it means so much to me and other attendees.

It’s about sisterhood. I think it should be spelled with a capital S. We celebrate and laugh here in a way that only  women do. We laugh, not the tinkly little-girl laughs women give in response to a man’s joke, but those big, deep-belly laughs women emit when we make each other laugh. The ones that shake the puppies out of their foundations and loosen tear ducts and bladders as well. These are never the mean girl laughs. On the contrary, they come from a deep understanding and appreciation of one another. Women tend to reflect on life in a way men don’t, a speaker commented. Women’s humor is different from men’s.

I observed the men to see if she was right. The men seemed to be watching the women here as they might an athlete or a musician, admiring them from a distance but accepting that they can’t fully participate in what was happening. (What else is new?) But, I think they were enjoying the laughter vicariously.

Yes, younger women attend also. I wondered if they read Erma. I suppose, if asked, they would say they came primarily to network. Oh! We are in Dayton, Ohio. We come here primarily to laugh. I watched as these young women got rid of their buttoned-up professional demeanor, at least for the moment. They roared. LMAO is how they might term it. And, sure enough, they wiped mascara from under their eyes, even if there wasn’t any there. (An atavistic response, we were told.)

Women laugh out of sisterhood; we understand one another. It’s a profound phenomenon, this understanding. When triggered, it makes us laugh and cry at the same time. And here I could see we are all afflicted with it. Older and younger. From New York City to the hills of Kentucky. Dems and Repubs. Wow!  We laughed together. It all builds. The great speakers, the books, the writing sessions, the encouragement, the understanding, the warmth of the Bombeck family.

Yeah, you can tell, I love this conference!

I must add, with one exception: I didn’t win the contest — again. (Judges, if any of you are reading this, I’m not getting any younger.)

— Lynda Zielinski

Lynda Zielinski writes the blog, “Ole Granny Slogs,” and shamelessly will use her grandson and dogs to sway EBWW judges in future writing competitions.

Woodstock of humor

For three days, we laughed. OK, howled.

We left renewed, inspired, motivated.

Fresh from the 2012 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, some of the 350 attendees and faculty tapped out humorous and, often, heartfelt columns and blogs. Here’s a sampling:

“Postcards From the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop” from Yuliya Patsay of the  She Suggests blog

“Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop 2012: Will Somebody Please Remove the Ferret from my Toe?” by Dave Fox, author of Getting Lost: Mishaps of An Accidental Nomad

“Being Erma” by Tracy Beckerman, nationally syndicated humor columnist and author of Rebel Without a Minivan: Observations on Life in the ‘Burbs. And another, “Here’s Why Jennifer Aniston Probably Won’t Be Inviting Me to Her Wedding”

“Life Keeps Getting Weirder: An Open Letter to the Dayton Marriott” by Anna Lefler, author of The CHICKtionary

“Draggin Girl” by Deb Amlen, New York Times WordPlay columnist and blogger

“Best Moments From the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop” by Tara Adams

“Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop — A Unique Chance To Study ’Funny’” from The Laughing Mom blog

“Erma Bombeck, I Am a Writer” by blogger Nicole Shirley Morgan

“An Ode to the EBWW” by Gianetta Palmer

“Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop?…We’ll See” by Carolyn Plath

“You Had Questions? EBWW 2012 Had Answers” by blogger Jody Worsham on the National Society of Newspaper Columnists website

“The Once and Future Queen. Finding Erma Bombeck” by Kyran Pittman, author of Planting Dandelions: Field Notes From a Semi-Domesticated Life 

“The Spirit of Erma” by Karen Walrond, author/photographer of The Beauty of Different

“On Being Erma’s Child” by Jim Higley, author of Bobblehead Dad

“Lovefest — Erma Bombeck Style” by Suzette Martinez Standring, author of The Art of Column Writing: Insider Secrets from Art Buchwald, Dave Barry, Arianna Huffington, Pete Hamill and Other Great Columnists

“What Erma Bombeck Taught Me (Just This Past Weekend” by Amy Wilson, author of When Did I Get Like This?: The Screamer, the Worrier, the Dinosaur-Chicken-Nugget-Buyer, and Other Mothers I Swore I’d Never Be

“14 Things I Learned at the 2012 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop” by blogger Joe Donatelli

“Bombeck Writers’ Workshop Closes With Dedication” by Mary McCarty, Dayton Daily News columnist 

“Stooges Funny? Don’t Make Me Laugh — Bombeck Rules” by Gina Barreca, author of It’s Not That I’m Bitter or How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Visible Panty Lines and Conquered the World  “Erma

Bombeck’s True Gift” by blogger Stacey Hatton

“How I Overcame Chronic Shyness at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop by Jef Blocker

“The Spruce is Greener Surrounded by Family” by blogger Steve Vest

“Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop: The Meat and Potatoes (And the Chocolate Cake)” by Lisa Tognola, creator of “Main Street Musings” column

“Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop Wrap Up” by Sarah Hunt

“Life According to Erma” by blogger Jen Havice

“College Boys Aren’t Cute Anymore” by blogger Erin Breagy Gross

“Literary Arts Alive and Growing Here in Dayton” by Sharon Short, Dayton Daily News Literary Life columnist

“What Would Erma Say?” by blogger Dawn Weber

“UD Dedicates Tree to Writer’s Memory” by WDTN-TV

“The Next Erma Bombeck” by blogger Susanna Hickman Bartee 

“Six Things I Learned at EBWW” by blogger Leslie Marinelli 

“Six More Things I Learned at EBWW” by blogger Leslie Marinelli

“Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop: The Craft of Writing; the Gift of Friendship” by blogger Darlene Sneden

“From the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop — Blogging, Branding and Social Media, Part 1″ by blogger LD Masterson

“This is Where I Come From. And, I Might Be a Little Irreverent. And Also Irrelevent. And I Kinda Don’t Care,” by blogger Janet Frongillo 

“Tricks to Beating the Shy Monster” by blogger Alexandra Rosas

“Dessert AGAIN? OK, I’m In!” by blogger Nancy LaFever

“Thank you, Erma Bombeck” by blogger Jules Fredrick

Attendee Susanna Hickman Bartee penned one of the best descriptions of this year’s workshop: “We were 350 writers and wannabes who met for seminars, encouragement, inspiration and tips. It was a grand party where everyday people like me got to listen to and rub elbows with Pulitzer Prize winners, Hollywood writers, uber-successful freelancers and even (in my case) share an elevator with Betsy Bombeck, Erma’s daughter. It was hard to leave when it was over.”

Mark the date: April 10-12, 2014.  Join us for the 2014 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop.

— Teri Rizvi

Teri Rizvi, associate vice president for University communications at the University of Dayton, founded the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop in 2000.

Open letter to the Dayton Marriott

Dear Dayton Marriott Management,

Thank you for your recent communication of 4/23/12 (forwarded to me by your corporate legal department and hereinafter known as “the steaming pantload”) regarding my recent stay at your hotel while attending the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop.

I would like to take this opportunity to respond to the various allegations therein, all most some of which are completely without merit and may adversely affect your hotel’s score on the guest survey card which I have yet to complete and mail in.

First, it is outrageous and preposterous to assume that my suitcase was responsible for the malfunction and ultimate failure of elevator #3.  I believe the security tapes will show that the fault lies not with my sleek, utilitarian baggage but with the housekeeping staff member riding in the elevator with me and struggling under the weight of 3-4 thick, fluffy and obviously highly absorbent bath towels made from an exotic strain of imported cotton known to be both unstable and, well, really heavy.

Second, it saddens me to know that the microwave cozy I crocheted for (keynote speaker and comedy legend) Alan Zweibel and stapled to his hotel room door left him feeling (as your so-called report puts it) “disturbed and anxious” rather than relaxed and heartwarmed as I intended.  As for my decision to staple it to his door at 3:14 am, I believe the logic behind that strategy is self-evident.  That being said, I really don’t see how this matter is any of your bossy hotel security team’s business, as Mr. Zweibel has thoughtfully begun a separate correspondence with me regarding this matter.  And when I see him in at our appointed court date, I will finally have the opportunity to tell him in person how much I admire his work.

With respect to the cake, I would like to remind you that I am an attendee/presenter in good standing at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop with all rights and privileges thereof, including – but not limited to – assorted desserts, baked goods and non-dairy creamer.  I have reviewed my official workshop documents and have found no language that asserts a fixed limit on the number of desserts an individual attendee may commandeer, assuming those desserts have not yet been laid claim to by another attendee.  As those slices of carrot cake were unclaimed at the time I consumed them (fact:  not a single person had even entered the ballroom yet when I stumbled across the pieces of cake at tables 14-17), I herewith reject your catering bill of $276.55 and demand that you reverse the charge in the aforementioned amount that you ran on my Mastercard.

Lastly, in the matter of the white school bus, it was my understanding that the bus was no longer in service as a shuttle for workshop attendees at the time I drove that out-of-state drum and bugle corps to Arby’s for a late afternoon snack.  (Those kids must really have been practicing hard, because I have never seen young people with munchies like this in my life.)  I believe a review of the facts will clarify that it was completely beyond my control that the bus ran out of fuel on the way back to the hotel and had to be abandoned on the shoulder of the I-75.  And also, if you don’t want anyone borrowing your vehicles, you probably shouldn’t leave the keys in the lockbox under the registration desk where people can easily find them.

In summation, I have no doubt that we will be able to reach an equitable settlement in the matters above, especially in light of the fact that I have now returned the 769 facial soaps, 412 miniature bottles of body lotion, harvest gold woven blanket and pneumatic desk chair that I mistakenly interpreted to be gratis souvenirs of my stay at your hotel.

Note:  please address all future correspondence directly to me, as I have terminated my dealings with my previous counsel (who, it turns out, characterizes an evening of foofy-drink-fueled line dancing followed by a late-night half-stack at the Waffle House out by the airport as a “bizarro, one-off odyssey” rather than the sublime prelude to long-term romance we both knew damn well it was up until that unfortunate incident Saturday morning).

Thank you and good luck,

Anna Lefler

WOW.

So here’s the thing:  the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop was amazing.  (I hesitate to apply this word because it is so overused these days, but this instance calls for it.)  Other words come to mind, such as inspirational, humbling, hilarious, educational, magical and poignant.  I could go on and on, but I will simply say that, for me, unforgettable is the word that best captures every aspect of my four days and three icing-flecked nights among my fellow humorists and heroes in Dayton.

To the organizers of the workshop who paid me the tremendous honor of inviting me to teach two of the sessions, to the folks who spent their time listening in the audience, to the people who went out of their way to ask questions, share experiences and pay compliments, to the warm and gracious Bombeck family who welcomed me into their company at dinner, and to every attendee and speaker, I would like to say

THANK YOU.  From my heart.

— Anna Lefler

Anna Lefler, author of CHICKtionary, served on the faculty of the 2012 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop.

Questions? EBWW 2012 had answers!

If you went to EBWW 2012 looking for answers, you weren’t disappointed.  Whatever question you had, it was answered.  And if you didn’t like the answer you got in the first session, you could just go to the next one and keep going until you got the answer you liked.  For example:

Question #1:  How do I get something published?

Session A:  Build your platform.  Show that you have ten million followers on Facebook and ninety-nine trillion stalkers on Twitter.  Then add Pine-trees for graphics and spend the next four years of your life marketing the book.

Session B:  Start writing when you are 68, print 7 copies of your first book at Staples, give 5 to your children and 2 to your two best friends.  Then a publisher will call you and publish your next four books, and two playwrights will find you and turn your book into an off Broadway play all before you are 74. It helps if you live in New York.

Session C:  If you have money, I will print.

Session D:  Talent helps.

Question #2:  Should I write for free?

Session E:  Absolutely!

Session F:  Absolutely not!

Session G:  Absolutely not, unless you are getting something in return!

Session H:  Absolutely up to you!

Question #3:  How important is social media?

Session I: If you can speak Geek, totally important.

Session J:  If you have live human, breathing friends, not so important.

Session K:  If you have a 10-year-old living next door who will tutor for free, it can be helpful.

I hope you are making plans for EBWW 2014 where these same questions will be asked and answered in various formats and languages once again.

— Jody Worsham

At  age 61, when Jody Worsham became the mother of a 1-day-old baby and a 3-year-old, she found writing humor was cheaper than therapy, legal, no hangover, and it didn’t matter if Medicare covered it or not.

A Dayton gal

(On the anniversary of Erma Bombeck’s death, Sharon Short writes about the humorist’s enduring appeal in her new column, “Literary Life,” in the Dayton Daily News. Here’s an excerpt from Sharon’s April 22 debut column.)

I am delighted and honored to launch a new column today — Literary Life.

I will share the stories of book clubs, writing groups, writing workshops and published writers of fiction, nonfiction, poetry and plays in the greater Dayton area.

I’ve shared news of this column with friends and literary cohorts from Dayton to New York and beyond, and universally I’ve received two reactions: (1) That’s so exciting! and (2) Wait, is there that much going on, literary life-wise, in Dayton, Ohio?

My responses: (1) Yes, it is exciting, because the arts are lively and growing in Dayton, including the literary arts and (2) Yes. The challenge isn’t going to be finding material to cover, but how to choose among all the creative, cool, literary people, places and events each week.

Today marks the 16th anniversary of the passing of nationally beloved humor columnist and best-selling author Erma Bombeck, a household name for her witty and poignant insights into American family life during the 1960s-1980s. Yesterday wrapped up the biannual writers’ workshop held in her name.

“Erma wrote about real life, the kind of life most of us live every day, not the cartoons and fantasies that populate so much of our entertainment media,” says Matthew Dewald, workshop director.

The University of Dayton’s National Alumni Association sponsors the biannual Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, the only one in the United States devoted to human interest and humor writing. Registration for the workshop, which attracts hundreds of aspiring and professional writers from around the United States and Canada, sold out the first week it was open. So, writers interested in 2014 are advised to visit humorwriters.org.

Bombeck was born in Bellbrook in 1927 and grew up in a working-class family in Dayton. She attended University of Dayton and began writing for the Kettering-Oakwood Times in 1964 and the Dayton Journal Herald in 1965. After just three weeks at the Dayton newspaper, Bombeck’s column, At Wit’s End, was picked up for syndication.

In many ways, Bombeck’s and (Manning) Marable’s literary and personal lives couldn’t have been more different. Yet, both grew up in and were, in part, shaped by their experiences in Dayton.

— Sharon Short

Sharon Short is the author of the novel “My One Square Inch of Alaska,” to be published by Penguin Plume in February 2013, and the director of the Antioch Writers’ Workshop. Click here for the complete version of this Literary Life column.

Living legacy

This piece appeared in the Dayton Daily News on Sunday, April 22, the anniversary of Erma Bombeck’s death.

Humor mixed with poignancy at the seventh biannual Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, as 350 aspiring writers gathered to celebrate the legacy of the beloved Dayton-born columnist.

Bombeck’s husband Bill and her children Betsy and Andy attended the conference, culminating Saturday afternoon with the dedication of a hoopsi blue spruce near the Bombeck historical marker outside St. Mary’s Hall. “The tree will be here a long time, and I hope her memory will last as long as the tree,” Andy Bombeck said.

His sister reflected, “Hundreds of years from now, the tree will be gigantic, and there will be people here who don’t know who she was.”

Countered Erma Bombeck’s cousin, Dee Dee Moore, “She will be remembered.

Everyone will know who she is, just like Mark Twain.”

“I think that’s true,” Betsy Bombeck said.

Twenty-eight humorists and authors spoke at the conference, which typically sells out in the first few days. Friday night keynote speaker Alan Zweibel, a former “Saturday Night Live” writer, spoke movingly of his friendship with Gilda Radner.

Pulitzer-Prize winning columnist Connie Schultz, whose columns are syndicated through Creators Syndicate, filled in as keynote speaker for the Friday lunch after the death of originally scheduled speaker Jeffery Zaslow — best-selling co-author of “The Last Lecture” — in a car accident in February. Schultz, the wife of U.S. Sen. Sherrod Brown and — until recently — a columnist for The Cleveland Plain Dealer, advised the audience, “The angrier you are, the funnier you must be.”

Schultz kidded about her raspy voice, reminiscent of her husband’s: “When you marry someone they say you start looking like him. Well, apparently I am starting to sound like him.”

Schultz fielded a question from the youngest conference attendee, Bombeck’s 5-year-old grandson, Michael. “Why did the dog throw up?” he asked, referring to one of her columns.

“That’s the best question I’ve been asked in months,” Schultz enthused. “It’s all in the details.”

Like most of the speakers, Schultz lauded Bombeck’s legacy. One of her editors from Parade Magazine recently asked if she knew that Bombeck is from Ohio. “Yes,” Schultz retorted, “and I know the date of Christmas! We are very proud of her.”

Andy Bombeck opened the Friday night session by reading his mother’s famous 1979 column about him, “A Different Drummer.” After the reading, he observed, “My mother would be proud of how many aspiring writers are here who let their voices be heard, just like hers was.”

Friday night’s keynote speaker, best-selling novelist Adriana Trigiani, is a friend of the Bombeck family. “I love Bill Bombeck,” she enthused, “because he had the smarts and the brilliance to marry the funniest woman alive.”

Andy Bombeck said the three-day conference, attended by about 35 University of Dayton students, is the perfect way to honor the memory of one of its most celebrated alumni. “This is something my mom would have loved — to encourage young aspiring writers,” he said.

— Mary McCarty

Mary McCarty, a columnist and staff writer for  the Dayton Daily News, has been part of the workshop faculty since 2000.

Nyuck, nyuck (not)

The difference between women’s humor and men’s humor is the difference between Erma Bombeck and The Three Stooges.

I’ve worshipped at the Bombeck altar since reading her three-times-per-week columns in the newspaper when I was a kid, so to be keynote speaker at the humor conference held in her honor this year is a privilege. Almost 400 people will attend. Isn’t that great?

It’s great, except that the new Three Stooges movie is playing in nearly 4,000 theaters. You’re smart; you do the math.

Even if each showing attracts only six guys, each of whom has spent whole months of his adolescence perfecting the “nyuck, nyuck” sound and therefore lacks what might be defined as a “personal life” or “women friends,” Larry, Moe and Curly still get more box office than Bombeck.

Why is it that a group that once included a character named “Shemp” still wields power over the comic imagination of America?

It’s because American men still believe women don’t really have a sense of humor. Despite the fact that if you put three women together for more than 13 seconds and we all start laughing, there are guys going around saying “Whatsamatter, honey, can’t you take a joke?” when his date doesn’t laugh at the work of Dennis Miller, The Stooges or Caligula.

Believe me when I say that women hate the Three Stooges. If you’re sitting next to a woman who’s cooing “No really, I simply adore the Three Stooges,” she’s faking it. In fact, I believe you can eliminate blood tests at the Olympics by merely showing The Stooges: You laugh, you play on the men’s team. Women do not do the eye-poking, head-banging, butt-slamming humor that the Three Stooges do so well.

Have you ever seen two women go up to each other at a conference, a wedding or networking event and, by way of greeting, say, “Pull my finger?”

Men do it all the time. In the Three Stooges paradigm, men insult each other by way of indicating affection.

“Hey Frankie, you’ve had that jacket since 1992. I’ll buy you a new suit just so I don’t have to look at those stripes!” That’s their way of saying, “Hi, how ya doing, how’s the family?” And it’s impossible to insult Frankie because he’s going, “Suit’s still good. Can’t button it, but it fits all right.” If you say to a woman, “Barbara, you’ve been wearing that suit since 1992,” Barbara will lock herself in the bathroom until she can order new clothes from a catalog. She won’t think it’s a funny joke.

Actually, men often think women don’t have a sense of humor because women rarely tell jokes.

Instead, like Erma Bombeck, women tell stories.

We have totally different ways of communicating. When a woman says, “Let me tell you something funny,” you better sit down and pour yourself a cup of coffee. You’re going to be there for quite some time.

Erma Bombeck wrote humor challenging the underlying assumptions of traditional domesticity. Although some of it can be placed in the self-effacing tradition (“After marriage, I added 30 pounds in nine months, which seemed to indicate that I was either pregnant or going a little heavy on the gravy”), her essays often contained less sympathy and more bite than the conventional “good mother” was meant to possess (“So you swallowed the plastic dinosaur out of the cereal box. What do you want me to do, call a vet?”).

When Bombeck quipped “I don’t think women outlive men … it only seems longer,” she challenged the system that would have us believe women live easy lives.

Bombeck taught women to forage for humor — to find it, to hunt for it, to gather it up in its raw state. Author of When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It’s Time to Go Home, A Marriage Made in Heaven: Or Too Tired For an Affair and All I Know About Animal Behavior I Learned in Loehmann’s Dressing Room, Bombeck’s column ran in more than 900 newspapers and she became the best friend of every harried, fraught, overworked and imperfect woman in the world.

I’ll take Bombeck’s fresh laugh over Moe’s whack to the forehead any day.

– Gina Barreca

Gina Barreca, author, professor and commentator, is part of the 2012 EBWW faculty. This column appeared on the McClatchyTribune wire April 19 as 350 writers from around the country gathered for this year’s workshop.

Wrapped in a tree’s many branches

Erma Bombeck’s family will dedicate a tree in the late humorist’s memory at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop at 4 p.m. on Saturday, April 21. Teri Rizvi, the workshop’s founder, writes about the deep meaning of memorial trees.

In February, my husband’s early Valentine’s Day gift arrived in a wheelbarrow.

I watched a red Japanese maple tree being planted in his mother’s memory a few steps away from the sturdy tree that blooms for his father near the Anderson Center on the University of Dayton’s campus.

“This is the best gift ever,” he proclaimed.

Everyone — from her five devoted sons to the family’s servants in Pakistan — called her Apa, Urdu for “sister.” Her formal schooling ended after fifth grade, but she devoured the newspaper daily and dispensed wisdom and compassion gained from a life that spanned at least 85 years by family math. Her sudden death of a heart attack in 2005 just days before a family visit broke our hearts.

When I walk over to grab a quick lunch at Kennedy Union, I take a moment to brush aside the mulch covering the plaque under the graceful branches of a Pacific sunset maple tree. My father-in-law’s legacy comes into focus: “In memory of Shahid Hussain Rizvi Who Dedicated His Life for the Betterment of His Family and Education.”

Across the world in Lahore, Pakistan, my in-laws carefully tended the mango and date trees that stretched majestically above the walls that encircled the family home. During my first trip to Lahore to get married 30 years ago, they proudly showed off the famous Shalimar Gardens, centuries-old Mughal-style terraced gardens — a peaceful oasis in an often-turbulent country.

On campus, the chapel bells remind us of the power of faith. In Lahore, the lyrical Islamic call for prayer can be heard in the streets five times a day.

Two religions. Two vastly different cultures divided by nearly 8,000 miles. Yet this couple, who never even visited America, would feel at home on a campus that values both faith and family.

The trees on the University of Dayton’s sprawling campus often hold hidden and deeply personal meaning. Some of us can’t walk under their foliage without stealing a moment to reminisce, to pray silently.

We know more than 1,545 magnolia, white ash, pine and other trees border pathways and stand like sentinels on the campus lawns and in the neighborhoods. Our scientists can calculate the reduction of the University’s carbon footprint every time a tree is planted.

Yet neither is the true measure of a single tree.

Friends of James “Gerbs” Grabowski ’89 recently donated a swamp white oak that was planted near the gazebo in view of the iconic Hail Mary statue. Gerbs, who died last summer, proposed to his wife Tracey at the gazebo in 1991. For generations to come, this mighty oak will shade other young lovers. A young friend of the family promises to “high five” the tree every time he passes it on his way to the library.

The family of humorist Erma Bombeck ’49 chose a hardy hoopsi blue spruce to plant this spring near her Ohio historical marker outside St. Mary Hall. “They planted trees and crabgrass came up,” the plaque will read. What better tribute to a delightfully funny writer whose newspaper columns chronicling suburban family life hung on the refrigerator doors of our youth?

During Reunion Weekend in June, the family of Congressman Chuck Whalen ’42 will bless a dawn redwood tree in front of Roesch Library, which houses a collection of Whalen’s Congressional and personal papers.

I know exactly how these families feel about these trees.

This spring, when the crimson leaves on the Japanese maple make their first regal appearance, their beauty will remind me what a tree’s worth.

You can’t put a price on it.

–Teri Rizvi

Teri Rizvi is associate vice president for University communications at the University of Dayton and founder of the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop.