Betsy Grady

Maureen and I met Betsy when I first got together with Mark Cowell in Cambridge in 1967 or 68. I was living in Waltham, where I'd gone to keep my sorry carcass out of Vietnam by studying anthropology at Brandeis University.

Those were the choices you had in those days. Your carcass wasn't your own. It was being wrestled over by LBJ and Noam Chomsky.

Maureen had come back from her foreshortened Peace Corps stay in Senegal and had come up to Waltham to be with me.

Mark's grandfather, Jo Cowell, had been one of Win's art teachers in DC, and was a dear friend of hers. Win would occasionally go to the Lotus Temple with him.

Well, this doesn't have much to do with Betsy. But that's how we met. My parents said "You ought to look up Mark Cowell." Mark's grandparents said "You ought to look up Tom Rogers." Finally we did it. We got together, both of us expecting the worst.

And of course we were inordinately pleased.

Betsy was with Mark the first time we got together with him. Were they both students at Northeastern University then?

Not sure. But we liked them and they liked us.

Betsy in Harvard Square

Lois took this photo of Betsy and me in september 1994, when Lois and I were together (after I'd dropped Jacky Lewis off in Vermont so she could backpack the Long Trail) for a couple of weeks of being tourists. Betsy had just gotten married that year, I think, to Hank -- one of the three people with whom she'd been sharing a house in Brighton for twenty years or so.

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Last revised 24 feb 99

Copyright 1999 T. N. R. Rogers