Edward H. Culver, Jr. – 50th Reunion Essay

Edward H. Culver, Jr.

190 Tradd St

Charleston, SC 29401

ned.culver@comcast.net

781-223-5544

Spouse(s): Susan Chase Culver (1980)

Child(ren): Jennings Lee Cameron (1986), Anne Prentice Culver (1992)

Education: Yale, B.S., 1969

National Service: Destroyer Officer USNR, active duty 1969-72, reserves 1975-1980. Retired as LCDR

Career: Advertising – account executive and management; residential real estate – sales and management.

Avocations: Golf, bridge, genealogy

College: Davenport

I suppose I have always been a Yalie (you can’t say “Yale man” anymore, can you?). My father went to Yale, and in the very crimson town of Dedham, Massachusetts, where I grew up, we proudly flew the Yale 1940 banner every November and even decorated the neighbors’ houses with blue crepe paper every time Yale won The Game. There was a proud defiance in our support of Yale. I never really wanted to go to college anywhere else.

Fast-forward to parenthood. On the morning of The Game, we would mischievously blast Yale football songs from a boom box toward our Wayland, Massachusetts, neighbors across the street—Harvards, of course. We used to take our two daughters to The Game when it was in Boston. This was preceded by a fine brunch at Lang Wheeler’s, which usually included a short concert by either the Whiffenpoofs or the Whim ’n Rhythm. Yale usually lost the game. But my daughters were smitten: by the team in blue, but more likely by the handsome Whiffs.

Such was Yale’s impact on my daughters that when it came time to look at colleges, one said, “Daddy, would you be sad if I didn’t go to Yale?” I was astounded—and touched.

How can a parent have such an influence on a child?

I told my daughters that Yale was one of the great experiences of my life, where I made wonderful, bright and stimulating friends that I keep in touch with to this day, where I learned to be my own person, untrammeled by the standards and expectations of cool and athletic prep school classmates, where I “came of age” (whatever that means), and where I learned a little.

I also told them I believed that wherever they went to college, they would have a similar experience: they would meet lifelong friends, they would come into their own, and they would learn something. They would be equipped, I predicted, to lead full and rewarding lives. And they would develop a strong and lasting loyalty to their chosen colleges, which turned out not to be Yale. In retrospect, this seems to be true.

What strikes me, as I write this, is that this is not unique. While Yale is unique, the experience is not. To imagine others, graduates of Yale or anywhere else, with similar loyalties to and affections for their alma maters is to contemplate a great and powerful force, larger than any of us.