Thursday, November 29, 2007

A Trail Of Animal Crackers

PARKING NOTE: For those of you coming to town Friday, the town of Hanover will allow parking near the chapel but space will be limited. Consider the town parking garage, one block from the Hopkins Center, where you won't have to worry about feeding a meter. For a PDF parking map, click here. (The parking garage is labeled "facility" on this map.)


Your remembrances of Kathy Slattery Phillips have been a big help to all of us still struggling with her loss. The following was written by former basketball captain Gregg Frame '94, someone you'll see was a very special friend of a very special person. Gregg says writing this was cathartic for him. Reading it was for me and hopefully will be for you:
***
“Doggy, I’ve got a good one for you.”

“Doggy, the custodians are complaining about a trail of animal crackers leading from here to Leede Arena.”

Nearly every afternoon of my Dartmouth career began with a quip from Slats. You see, Slats’ office was in the direct line from the place where I’d pick up my practice gear to the locker room. And Slats’s office was an attraction. First, she kept an ample supply of animal crackers in that office. Second, she always had the day’s newspapers on her coffee table. But mostly, it was attractive because Slats was there. Always with a joke, always with a smile. Always busting balls. If my day was going well (and being at Dartmouth, most of my days went well), the visit to Slats’office made it better. If the day wasn’t going well, Slats always made me smile. I stopped in her office every single day we had practice or a game, and she never failed me.

It was Slats who cultivated the relationship I have with my best friend to this day, someone who I consider to be a brother. Jay Fiedler and I would sit in that office, telling tales, cracking jokes, mocking each other, and Slats would be right there, one of the guys, egging us on, jumping in where appropriate. She was always working while this was going on, but we never felt like we were intruding on her time or bothering her. I think she enjoyed the camaraderie and gamesmanship.

Slats had the unique ability to truly be “one of the guys”, while all the while maintaining a feminine grace and charm that was much needed in the testosterone filled world of collegiate men’s athletics. It is difficult to imagine someone who could be described both as a “ball buster” and as “motherly”, but that was Slats. In some ways, she defied description.

She was motherly in that, she really cared and took care of us. And it did not matter whether you had a great game (which made her job infinitely easier and more pleasing) or an awful game (in which case she needed to “put some lipstick on this pig”, as she once stated in her eloquent way)… she treated you the same, loving you for who you are. Win or lose, there were homemade cookies after the game.

When I think of Kathy, as I have done a lot in the past two weeks, here’s some of the lines or stories that I will always remember.

Kathy FedExing a piece of Leede Arena to me when they replaced the floor. Always thinking of something she could do for others to brighten their day.

Kathy walking up to me after a game vs. Columbia and congratulating me on a triple double of points, assists and TURNOVERS… and then mockingly saying, “I don’t think that feat will go in the post-game notes.”

Kathy congratulating me on being runner-up Ivy League player of the year by stating: “You got one vote. You know Fran [Dunphy] couldn’t vote for his own player, right?”

Kathy golfing with me when I returned to campus a couple years after graduation. As we got off the course, she looked at me and with a straight face said, “For a golfer, you are one hell of a point guard.”

Kathy calling me to let me know that my uncle, who she developed a close friendship with, had shipped her another set of golf scorecards, her favorite collector’s item. Invariably, she would say something like, “He is so thoughtful. You sure you two are related, Doggy?”

Kathy calling me “Doggy”, the only female I’ve known who could get away with it and not sound forced. Every time I would see her, she would smile and call me “Doggy”, the word seeming to drag on for 3 or 4 seconds.

Finally, I’ll remember the look of utter happiness and joy on her face the last time I saw her. I was visiting Hanover with my wife, and we were showing our niece (a high school junior) the school. As I always did when I came to Hanover, we went straight to Kathy’s office. She was just getting back from a run, and preparing for the football game later that afternoon. We talked about our kids, and her face lit up even more. She saw the picture of my daughter and laughed at her short athletic hair. She mentioned the pressures to dress little girls like “Jon Benet Ramsey”, and how she was happy I had not succumbed to that pressure. She looked at my niece and made some quip about my checkered athletic career at Dartmouth and my niece perhaps following in her uncle’s footsteps. With a hug and a kiss, she was off. Always working, with a smile on her face. It was a Dartmouth football Saturday, the Upper Valley was beautiful, and she was beaming. I hope that I had a little to do with that smile. I know that she had a lot to do with my smile the rest of the day, and in all my other days on the Hanover Plain.

No comments: