In memory of Sid – in the beginning and at the end
Many among Sidney’s
colleagues and long-time friends will remember that his sixtieth birthday was
celebrated with a surprise party in conjunction with the 1982 meeting of the
American Anthropological Association in Washington, D.C. The fete took place at
the Textile Museum near Dupont Circle, and I was there as the date of Richard
L. Kagan, professor of history at Johns Hopkins. Richard had previously
introduced me to his close friends Jackie and Sidney Mintz, but it was only
when we arrived at the Textile Museum that I was able to appreciate the expanse
of the Mintz friendship and collegial circle. Soon Sidney came to the museum
lectern--with a black eye, acquired (as we were to learn) in a fall–and began:
“Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking...” The crowd immediately roared
in laughter, which is when I realized how often everyone there had anticipated
and savored his presentations and what a very prominent place Sidney occupied
in the academic and culinary worlds.
***
As it happens, my own
birthday is the day after Sidney’s. (Albeit a few decades apart.) So after
Richard Kagan and I married, it became the custom to have a joint birthday dinner,
sometimes at our Baltimore home, sometimes at the Mintzes, sometimes at a
restaurant and always with our dear mutual friends Nancy and Arthur Valk. These
were special occasions, featuring some great meals (always better and more
vinous when chez Mintz, Simpson/Kagan or Valk), equally terrific conversation,
and lots of laughter. It was through these gatherings, and many others with Sid
and Jackie over the years, that I learned the essential role of good food and
drink in creating and sustaining fellowship and memorable occasions.
***
Christmas Eve was long
another occasion for the Mintzes, Valks and Simpson/Kagans to foregather, a
tradition that continued even after Richard and I moved from Baltimore to
Philadelphia. This past year Jackie and Sid spent the night, and Sid
contributed a vintage bottle to our repast. As always, he also told many jokes
and stories, especially about childhood years in New Jersey. More jokes and bon
mots–and ideas about a Mintz memoire--enlivened breakfast and the opening of stockings
(a specifically Simpson family practice that Sid doubtless regarded as a bit too
much Christmas, but cheerfully accepted as part of the visit). Early on
Christmas afternoon we sent Jackie and Sid off to Princeton, with hugs and
kisses. Our tears would come all too soon. Birthday and Christmas Eve dinners
will never be the same. How fortunate we feel to have experienced these–and so
many other wonderful times–together.
