Shared Memories

From Willard Travell Weeks
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The tennis player and the fisherman by Gay Bossart

Don is excellent tennis player and was competing in the finals of a city tennis tournament on the courts of Amherst College on this very pleasant late afternoon of August 1961. Nine month pregnant me was watching the game sitting on the side of this hill leading down to the campus tennis courts with 15 month old Kent and Dick and Shirley Harding (neighbors and minister of Wesley Methodist Church; Don was associate minister). The tennis match is close and Don is winning. And the labor pains commence! I don't want to interrupt Don in such an important game -- but we better do something soon. So Dick, Shirley, Kent and I start up the big hill to their car to go home and get ready to go to the hospital in Northampton. My bag is packed already. Dick left a message with another spectator to tell Don we had all left early and he should hurry home after the game.

By the time we arrived home, the pains were more intense and closer in time. Shirley took care of Kent, and I called my doctor, Dr. Weeks, immediately to tell him it was time to go to hospital. "He is not available now I'm very sorry," says his wife Bev. "He has gone fishing and quite far away." (No cells phones 50 years ago.) Bev volunteers to jump in the car (good thing the Weeks had two) and try and locate him by some river (lake?) and tell him to get to hospital to meet me, as I am ready to deliver a baby. Bev found him, Dr. Will went right to Cooley Dickinson and arrived at the same time as Don and I did. We three rode up in the elevator together: I in a wheel chair and the guys on either side. Don in his tennis whites and Dr. Will in his fishing gear. I want to sincerely apologize to both men for interrupting their sports and good times to have to take care of me. Alan Dana was born a very sort time later.


The customized sweater by Virginia L. Weeks

Willard Weeks 2002.JPG

I love this photo, especially because I got him that sweater with the black labs on it. He loved it but something was missing. Then he got some yarn and changed one of the labs to Butterscotch with her red collar. Problem solved. Classic!


Uncle Willard by John Bergamini

The Uncle Willard that I knew, and will remember, is that proud father of 2 cousins, the complete woodsman, architect and creator of Funland, and laughing little brother that would still tease his older sister given the chance, and the patient (and brave) uncle (with an eternal great smile) that taught both Herbert and I how to use a fly-rod at a rather early age...


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