It's a year since Don died and not a day goes by that I don't think of him. Don and our friend Al Ulmer both died this year. Goes with getting older, I guess.

Many of my stories with Don in them revolve around Al and a bunch of our other Nigeria Peace Corps friends.

A general story concerns Don's very knowledgeable and pragmatic take on American history and American politics. In Nigeria several of us got together regularly to discuss (argue?) politics. Don was a bit older and considerably better informed. Most of us younger ones were fairly radical in our politics and very critical of American foreign policy and civil rights issues, even then. Don was often the voice of reason, pointing out that change was slow and that a lot of the things we were critical of had historical precedents. He even defended Bobby Kennedy, whom JFK had appointed attorney general from our cry of nepotism, telling us that this was usual. Successful candidates often appointed their campaign managers as AG.

Of course all of this was before Vietnam had become a daily headline, and Selma and some of the more visible civil rights issues were still a year or two away. 

After we returned to the US, Don became much more activist and impatient at the pace of change; he helped found the Committee of Returned Volunteers, an activist group of former Peace Corps Volunteers dedicated to protesting the Vietnam war and promoting civil rights. He was very active and at some point ended up being hauled off to jail as part of a protest--a fact that I think he viewed as a badge of honor. He was involved in much more and spent some of his later history scholar time writing about the abuses of American power in Latin America.

Don continued to set an example for the rest of us. We miss him.

This seems like a good time to add another anecdote to the Don file.

Our good friend and Peace Corps colleague, Al Ulmer, died this week.

In the Peace Corps, Al and I regularly played tennis, usually mid-day in the African sun and usually during times when nobody else was using the courts, such as during vacation periods. One time we were having our usual slam-bang match and Al mentioned in passing that he had just come across an author he was very impressed with. He had just read a novel named "The Stranger" by a French Algerian named Camus, pronouncing the name with the final "s".

A couple of games later I said, "Al, I don't want to embarrass you, but the author's name is pronounced as Camu, without saying the final "s". "  I know you would want me to tell you this because if you ever said Camus with the "s" around Don, you would never hear the last of it.

"Right. Thanks, Norm" says Al.

Over beer after the game, it suddenly occurs to us both that this might be a chance to put the Mickey up Goodyear. "Al, how about we bring up "The Stranger" casually around Don, pronounce the author's name as Camus and see if he will take the bait." "Norm, I love it! We can catch him and then have a good laugh when he corrects us" says Al, never missing a beat in a chance of one-ups-manship.

So at the next Emene Basketball and World Affairs Seminar, we casually begin talking about this new French writer we have discovered named Camus (with the "s"), waiting for Don to take the bait. Not a word. Not a smirk, Nothing. All evening. Never. Damned Goodyear had foiled us again.

Mr. Goodyear was one of my favorites at Glen Cove High School, and this memorial collection would be incomplete without a note from one of his ex-students.  I took 3 of his courses, from 1974-1977.  We even created a new course just to keep him as our teacher.  I worked on the Profile yearbook with him.  I can't say for certain why he was a favorite.  Of course, he was a great teacher, inspired interest in history, etc.  He had a wry sense of humor, and put up with a lot of teenage attitude.  He taught on Long Island, where most students were rather well off, and had strong opinions and were outspoken.  We knew he was from the Midwest.  He had all of these hokey ways of saying things.  "Nyucular" energy and "Febyouary" come to mind.  Like George Bush, much later...
We convinced him to take us on a couple of field trips to New York City.  I remember one in particular, to see a movie about coal miners.  We wound up at a Brew Burger in midtown.  Bad Company's "Feel Like Makin' Love" was playing.  The whole thing was surreal.
I have a picture that looks remarkably like "Don Taking a Break from reading" in this memorial.  I think he gave it to us for the yearbook.  He didn't like our candid shots.  He also didn't like to share too much of his private life with us.
Rumor had it that he attended a party given by some of his ex-students in the 1980's.  Unfortunately I missed it.  Wish I had stayed in touch.
Mr. Goodyear, you would have laughed to learn that now I am the token Long Islander living in the Midwest.
Rest in peace.  You are missed.
Carl Forrest
(nee Feldman)