Sherwood Kiraly’s article about the creative writing program at Knox struck a huge chord with me. I was at Knox from 1970 to 1974. I was a theatre major, but I wanted to write. I took poetry writing from Sam Moon. I can still remember his delight when I told him I was “writing regularly every morning for 2-3 hours”—the discipline of the creative process was very important to him. I took a class from Robin Metz also—Fiction Writing maybe. I remember him asking me if I would edit Catch. Knox provided so many wonderful opportunities, and I had to turn down a few of them. Who knows, if I had been more involved with Catch, my life might have been very different. (Not that a 41-year career in insurance hasn’t been what a girl dreams of.)

Knox prepared me for the real world. I quickly realized that, whatever one wants to do in life, effectively expressing oneself in writing is a crucial skill. We are blessed with two sons and a daughter-in-law who all write beautifully. There was no creative writing major in 1974, but Jack Gallalee graduated from Knox with a music/ creative writing double major in 2010.

I will always consider my Knox years as the best years of my life. Thanks, Sherwood, for the trip down memory lane. And thanks, Knox, for the gorgeous memories.

I have a small correction to offer about the history of Catch. On page 18 of the fall 2017 issue, you say that the student literary magazine “officially became Catch in 1971.” This is incorrect. I was the editor during the 1969-70 school year, and it was called Catch then. That was the year we began publishing it as a bound paperback. Nick Brockunier (who is quoted in the article) was the editor the previous year, and I believe it was called Catch then as well, but I’m not positive. In any case, the magazine had its current name at least by 1969, if not 1968.

Editor’s Note: Thank you, Don, for sharing this information. We greatly appreciate it and are sorry for our error.

Sherwood Kiraly’s article stirred a memory. Apart from being an audience member when he gave readings, I encountered Dr. Metz only once. As a sophomore in 1967, I met him at a Letters to the Editor 2 East South Street reception for new professors. He asked me about my plans for the future. I answered that I pictured myself either as a wife/mother or (in lieu of marriage) as dedicated to some sort of career. My recollection of his response: “Why do young women feel that, in order to open a door, they must close one behind them?”

Is that, I thought, this man’s idea of some kind of advice? Has he not seen the movie Mildred Pierce?

More to the point, being new he is probably unaware that Knox women are required to be in their dorms by a certain hour at night. That, if caught outside the locked dorm door, they are brought before a board of their peers.

Fast-forward to my senior year. Not only are women free to go where and when they choose, they can opt to wear jeans, live in a (gasp) co-ed dorm, take The Pill. Even those of us heavily influenced by Father Knows Best-type television began to see we had choices.

I value my years at Knox for so many reasons, not the least of which was the gift of a new way to imagine myself in the world.

Thanks to Knox for opening doors at a pivotal time for me. And I have, ever since 1967, considered very carefully before closing any door. 

Hi, Megan

You are certainly keeping up good work:

The [Knox] Magazine is bright, informative and shows brilliant light on our school. In a report on literary magazines over the years, one dear to me was missing. I was editor of the Siwasher 1952-53 year, and was proud to publish words and drawings (a great portrait by Keith Achepohl led us off, setting the standard I hoped to achieve), and of course, one of my stories, The Blue Pool, that won the Grieg-Post prize.

I look forward to your magazine and all the good work of you and your staff, faculty and students. I found editing Siwasher a joyful responsibility, as you must find your delighting achievement.