Richard R. Larkin – 50th Reunion Essay

Richard R. Larkin

107 Elm Street

Stonington, CT 06378

rrlarking@gmail.com

207-577-8887

Spouse(s): Laurie Cameron (1978)

Child(ren): James Cameron Larkin (1980)

Grandchild(ren): Emelyn James Larkin (2018)

Education: Yale BA 1969

Career: Four decades of non-profit fundraising and management experience on both coasts—now consulting with Larkin Brooks & Pratt

After more than four decades tilling the nonprofit fundraising soil on both coasts, my wife, Laurie Cameron, and I returned to Stonington, Connecticut, where we have kept a home since 1984. Our son Jamie, his wife Allie (and our brand-new granddaughter Emma), have a house across the street from us for most weekends. It is a wonderful arrangement after too many years of bicoastal family living.

It seems I have failed retirement, now serving as the campaign manager for an initiative to build The Hart Perry Boathouse on nearby Mystic River. To keep myself honest, I volunteer to raise funds for the Stonington Historical Society and I also have been active in a variety of regional civic organizations. Non sibi, as my Exeter chums like to say.

Music has been a driving and guiding light over the years, and listening to modern music, in its endless permutations, remains a resolute source of inspiration and consolation. I continue writing poetry because I must, and I enjoy a good read when it cuts to the quick and makes me feel something outside myself. I have been studying/practicing/retreating Iyengar Yoga for over 20 years despite my back’s objections, or should I say because of those objections?

I have tried to keep a safe distance from my Yale friends, but now regularly succumb to the Annual Faux Harvard/Princeton Game Reunion in NYC. We gather to affirm our moronic recollection of whatever the hell happened in New Haven back when. Apparently, our Yale years were so hilarious that we can’t remember much about them without the encouragement of others. We have even taken to enlisting complete Yale outsiders who revel in our inability to get the facts straight year after year. Now we just make stuff up, share it over dinner and wait to see what happens. If the new version goes unchallenged then we have succeeded in rewriting some salacious part of our ignominious past. All on hand can proudly rejoice in being part of this new history and will relish the improved recollection for years to come. Works like a charm, as they say.

“What year was it I came in sixth in the Boston Marathon?” “Did you make the ‘Who put the pubic hair in my Coke?’ button?” “Oh wait—did you cure cancer?” “Where is my Nobel Peace Prize now?”

Just tooling up for the 50th! See you there.