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Fathers and daughters
There’s no night quite like it: the annual black-tie father-daughter dance put on by sororities at Cal. My daughter Casey is spending her formative years at the same University my grandfather, his son, and his son’s son did. I have no doubt that if she were going to UCLA, I would still have the time of my life rocking the night away with her. But the fact that she is where I was at her age adds a touch of poignancy; that three of my best college chums and half a dozen other college acquaintances also have daughters living in the same house adds to the magic.
Our prayers were answered early Saturday evening when the tuxedo pants actually fit. Dressed to kill, Ray and I quietly walked up the stairs of the Pi Phi house, wrist corsages in hand, still nervous after all these years. Would our daughters be ashamed of us?
When the door opened and they descended the staircase, we were each silently aware of why we had been so scared. We did not deserve women like these on our arms, and we knew it. (Of course, when we were their age, we didn’t deserve girls like that either, but that’s another story.)
 | | | Casey and Jeffrey Warren | Like a double date, we drove over to the Claremont for the dinner dance, where each father was convinced that his daughter was the most beautiful girl, and each girl--I mean, woman--was confident that she was dancing with the most dashing dad. We were in fantasy land: as young and dashing as we once thought we were, with our grown-up girls, each the apple of the eye of the one man in the world who, they knew, would always love them unconditionally.
Then, reality hit-- the coats came off and the bellies popped out. The DJ wailed on, leading us in dance routines that limited us to clapping hands and moving shoulders. When the DJ stopped, it was off to Kip’s. As one of Casey’s friends said: "I can’t believe you used the word ‘parents’ and Kip’s in the same sentence!"
The night wore on until the Campanile bells warned us our coach was about to turn into a pumpkin. The old folks left, leaving the young behind. But, for a few precious moments, each of us had stood tall and got to dance with the prettiest girl at the ball.
--Jeffrey Earl Warren ‘70
Cal seniors flocked to Pac Bell Park to support the Giants during Senior Week in May. For a Class Gift to the campus, the seniors raised a record $47,350, with contributions from more than 1,150 students (an average of about $20 per gift--or $20.02).
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Joanna Lennon ‘70, M.A. ‘81, who started the East Bay Conservation Corps in 1983, received this year’s Peter E. Haas Public Service Award. Lennon is pictured above between Peter Haas ‘41 and Mimi Haas at the award ceremony on Charter Day.
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