Marty Dluzansky

I went to a liberal arts college. That meant I had to take a variety of courses to graduate. I believe in being well rounded, so I was down for learning all kinds of things. Learning was the key word, not perfecting all kinds of things.

One area of academia I never perfected was foreign languages. So to fulfill my language requirement I did what I thought was the most fun way to get a credit. I went to a summer school program in Nantes France with a Dickinson program. The program was with two Dickinson Professors, a week in Paris, the others weeks in Nantes and weekends spent traveling the northwest region on France.

I looking forward to the traveling, the food, the friends, but not so much the classes. I never considered that most of the students were going to be French majors. Most of the students were from Dickinson, but two were from Bucknell and one from another school I can’t recall.

Very quickly upon the groups arrival in Paris a small subgroup formed made up of Wendy, Steve, Herb, Marty and Me. It might have been just Wendy, Steve, me and Herb, but since Marty was the only other man he gravitated to us as he might have felt overwhelmed by the half dozen other all girl group.

We explored Paris together. We walked to and from our various French homes to school together. We went to record stores and listened to records on our lunch breaks and we sat in the same van together as we went from vineyard to chateaus.

Marty and Wendy were very good French students. I was not. Marty took my French education very seriously. He would tutor me and correct my poor homework. In spite of my poor speaking skills I was better at communicating with the vendors at the markets and better at picking out the best choices on menus. So Marty, who had his own gold American Express card, funded by his Urologist father, would treat me to nice meals at fancy restaurants no one else could afford to visit.

I am certain that I never would have passed the class if Marty had not invested so much in my passing. I think he took it as a personal challenge. He did go on to be a French major.

Herb, Wendy, Steve and I remained close after we returned from France. Marty not as much. Although I would greet him in French when I would see him around campus.

Sadly Herb passed away a few years back in a very untimely death. Steve, Wendy and I took it very badly. Steve, Wendy and I would still see each other every few years. One time when we were having dinner together in Washington DC we called Marty. He had not heard of Herb’s passing.

Then this week Wendy called me. She asked if I had seen the most recent Dickinson Magazine. I had not. Marty passed away in July. Also very untimely.

I had last spoken to Marty a few years ago when he was living in the Boston area and Carter was there for college. We talked about seeing each other sometime when I was visiting Carter. We tried, but the two times we planned work got in the way.

Marty was not a life long close friend, but for one summer of my life he was a very important friend. We drank lots of wine and stayed in youth Hostels and cooked many meals together. We were young and just exploring who we were going to be. He was always kind and generous and I was lucky he was my friend.

Wendy and I talked today of seeing each other and Steve this summer. Our little band of five is down to three. Au revoir Mon Ami.