2008-2019 Partners at the Hartford Bridge Club Part 1

Regular partners at the HBC. Continue reading

Preparation: For several years I have maintained a spreadsheet that contained one line per bridge partner. I only kept track of ones with whom I had played at least one complete session at a sanctioned game. I also had bookmarked the ACBL’s web page that contained the records of club games. However, when I started working on this entry, I was disappointed to discover that the link no longer worked. So, I have needed to rely on my memory more than I hoped.

This document contains stories about partnered with whom I played several times. Part 2 (posted here) describes the ones that I met through the mentoring program or the High-Low game on Sundays and people that I only played with once or twice.


The HBC: The Hartford Bridge Club (HBC) was founded in 1931. It is the oldest continuously operating bridge club in North America. Its headquarters since October 1995 has been at 19A Andover Drive in West Hartford. I played my first game at the club and became a member on January 1, 2008. My partner that afternoon was Dick Benedict (introduced here), with whom I had been playing on Wednesday evenings at the Simsbury Bridge Club (SBC) for several years. At the time the club was charging $30 for a membership. The table fee was $5 for members and $6 for others. At the time I had only been playing in Simsbury. I joined the HBC because I had been asked to play in the games it ran on Tuesday evenings and Saturday afternoons. So, I figured that if I kept to that schedule all year1, it would be a good dealT


Tom Gerchman.

The person who asked me to play was Tom Gerchman. In preparation for playing with him I taught myself thirteen conventions that I had found in a book by William S. Root and Richard Pavlicek. I also bought Michael Lawrence’s CD about 2/1 (pronounced “two over one”), the set of bidding principles used by most players at the HBC and at tournaments. He had played 2/1 with his previous partner, Mary Witt2, and I eventually persuaded him to play it with me as well. At this point I knew enough conventions to be comfortable playing with nearly any new partner.

Tom drove a red BMW convertible. Between 2008 and 2023 he has purchased several new cars. Each one was a red BMW convertible. The license plate was GERCH. On trips he liked to drive, but the back seat was uninhabitable. If we were playing in a team game, the BMW was not big enough to hold four people. He borrowed his mother’s car.

I soon discovered that Tom wanted to play with me because Mary had resigned from their partnership. She wasn’t angry at him; she just did not like sitting across the table from him. I learned this when Tom and I played in a knockout with Mary and Ruth Tucker3 as teammates in the regional tournament in Danbury, CT. We made it to the semifinals of our bracket. After we had been eliminated Tom kept telling Ruth, “I got you gold!”

That evening the four of us went out for supper. I learned at that meal that Ruth had been a small child in Nazi Germany during the Kristallnacht in 1938. She was surprised that I knew quite a bit about the event. I had read about it when I had researched the backgrounds of two popes4, Pius XI and Pius XII, who had both been in Germany during Hitler’s rise to power. Tom had never heard of it.

For quite some time I enjoyed playing with Tom for several reasons. The first was that he liked to go to tournaments, and so did I. In addition, he was still working5, which meant that he could only play in evening games, and on weekends and holidays. That schedule conformed to mine. However, he was an avid golfer. So, in nicer weather he played less bridge. I also like the fact that he was not averse to learning new conventions. Bidding has always been my favorite aspect of the game.

At the SBC Tom occasionally played with his mother, Sue. He was sometimes pretty hard on her when she made mistakes. Wen she died in 2012 (obituary here) I was still playing regularly with Tom, and I went to her wake. I was the only bridge player who attended, but a number of Tom’s golf buddies were there.

After the evening games Tom and a small group of the other players went to the Corner Pug in West Hartford to discuss the hands and drink. Tom might have eaten a very late supper. I don’t think that he cooked, and he was not married.

It took me a while to realize it, but Tom definitely was obsessive-compulsive in some ways. For example we played together on two separate days at the NABC held in Boston in 2008. I discovered that he had memorized in terms of minutes how long it took to get to the site of the tournament from several spots on the route. Furthermore, on the day that I drove I let him off to register us while I parked the car. He insisted that I must park in precisely the same spot that he had used on the previous day. Just to be peevish I parked in the same spot, but one floor lower.

On that occasion we played in an Open Swiss with a pair from the partnership desk. We won our first round against a team from Connecticut. After that it was one humiliating defeat after another. Our teammates were upset at us. We beat a hasty retreat after the last round.

I heard from Mary Witt that Tom read the Hartford Courant every morning and always started with the obituaries. She also said that he had a huge stack of old newspapers in his house. I never went to his house, and so I cannot verify this.

Tom was much more obsessed with the scores than I was. He was pretty hard on me at club games, but he very seldom talked during rounds at tournaments. He also stayed after club games and audited the scores. He once told me that he loved to check calculations. He confided once that he should have been an auditor.

I was still playing with Tom at the time of my Life Master parties at the HBC and the SBC in early 2010. I remember that he gave a little speech at the HBC in which he talked about my habit of sending him emails about what I thought we could have done to do better in the previous game. In my acceptance speech I thanked every single partner that I had had at that point. I thanked Tom for teaching me “that in a six-team Howell, you don’t play against the pair that you follow and the pair that follows you.”

I don’t have any great memories of playing with Tom. We did not do very well at most tournaments. Eventually, I stopped playing with him. I just could not stand the fact that he said and did the same things over and over and over and over. He also talked about the hands too much in club games while we were still playing. I found myself pounding the steering wheel while driving home after playing with him. Fifteen years later I still react negatively to the sound of his voice.

Actually, I quit twice. After the first time he persuaded me to try again. It took me very little time to realize that he was never going to change. I quit again.

I still teamed up occasionally with him for team games. We had much better results when I did not have to sit across from him.

Tom invited me and Sue to the party that he threw for himself on his sixtieth birthday. It was at a restaurant on the west side of town. He was celebrating the fact that he had survived that long. Apparently both his only brother and his father had died from heart attacks when they were in their fifties.


Michael Dworetsky.

After my partnership with Tom was dissolved, on most Tuesday evenings I played with Michael Dworetsky. He had been playing for quite a while before I returned to the world of bridge, but he had only occasionally played in tournaments. I never was quite sure why he had avoided tournaments before I began playing as his partner.

I have several vivid memories of playing with Michael. We drove to a sectional in Johnston, RI, and did well enough to finish first in the C Flight in the afternoon session of the Open Pairs. As the director read the results, I said to Michael, “Let’s see how he does with our last names.” He butchered both of them.

The most catastrophic mistake of my bridge career occurred in the penultimate round of the Flight C qualifying tournament for the Grand National Teams (GNT). We were definitely in contention when Michael made a Help Suit Game try by bidding 3. I needed to bid 4 if I thought that we could take ten of the thirteen tricks or 3 if not. I considered all that I knew about the hand and finally decided that we probably did not have enough. Unfortunately, I did not bid 3, I mistakenly passed, leaving Michael in a ludicrous club contract.

I played with Michael when he made Life Master in a sectional in Westchester County. He drove us into New York City to a deli to celebrate. I had a Reuben sandwich; he had pastrami. We had a great time, but it cost him a fortune to park the car.

He almost always drove us to tournaments. On one occasion I spilled some coffee on the rug in his car. He did not yell at me, but I knew he was upset. He had a very nice car. It was the first that I had ever been in that had a both a built-in GPS and a hand-free telephone.

One of the best calls that I ever made in bridge was when Michael and I played against two ladies, one of whom needed to win the match in order to make Life Master. I opened 1, the lady overcalled 2, Michael doubled, indicating that he had a pretty good hand with clubs and diamonds. I had six spades, five hearts that included two honors, a club, and a diamond. I passed. We took the first nine tricks. She was down four for 1100 points. She did not make Life Master that afternoon.

I gave a little speech at Michael’s Life Master party. It might have been the best speech that I ever gave. It was not as effective as Urban II’s call for a crusade in 1096, but mine got more laughs. I began by claiming that Michael was a founding member of the club in 1931. I also mentioned the hole in the sole of one of his shoes.

Michael and I played together at the NABC in the summer of 2013. I posted my recollections of this adventure here. We also flew down to the Gatlinburg Regional Tournament in Tennessee in 2013. I took notes and posted them here. We won a knockout and a lot of masterpoints there.

The house in Bloomfield in which Michael lived with his wife Ellen was struck by lightning. Eventually they moved to Palm Beach Gardens, FL, but I have seen Michael at bridge tournaments in New England a few times. He usually was playing with a teaching pro named Bob Lavin.


Dan Koepf.

The nicest person whom I ever met was Dave Landsberg. When I started playing on Tuesday evenings, Dave was playing regularly with Dan Koepf. I invited them to team up with Jerry Hirsch and me in Flight C of the GNT event one year. They accepted, and we did quite well. I then wrote to both of them to ask if either one wanted to play in a tournament with me. Dave responded positively, and we were partners and good friends right up until his death (obituary here) in 2016. In fact, he was planning on playing with me in the Cape Cod Senior Regional the week that he died. I wrote up my experiences at that tournament, including my thoughts about Dave, and posted them here.

Dave was on the HBC’s Board of Trustees, and I was not. I once asked him what the BoT meetings were like. He told me that at that time there was a big controversy over toilet paper. He said that the women on the board were complaining that the toilet paper in the ladies’ room was too flimsy. Dave informed me that his position was that we should give them better paper, but it was only fair that they should agree to pay higher table fees. I laughed for several minutes.

Dave and I won a couple of events together. The most memorable one was in Cromwell, CT, when Dave played with Kay Hill, and I played with Ginny Iannini (introduced here). I posted a photo6 of us on the District 25 website, NEBridge.org, as I did the winners of all events at D25’s regionals. When Dave’s wife Jackie saw the photo of Dave and Ginny side-by-side, she told him that he could not play with her again. When Dave told me this, we both broke out laughing. However, it made me wonder why Sue never complained about me playing with Ginny.


Pat Fliakos.

I was playing with Dave and three other people when I set the world standard for captaining a five-person team in a sectional Swiss in Auburn, MA. We were playing with Pat Fliakos,7 one of Dave’s regular partners, and a pair that we picked up at the partnership desk, Charlie Curley (introduced here) and Mike Colburn. Since Mike and Charlie were regular partners, I assigned them to play all eight rounds. Pat and Dave would play six rounds, four together and two each with me. I would play the middle four rounds. This would allow me to leave early and mow the lawn, which needed it badly. When I departed, our team’s score was slightly above average, but in my absence my four teammates won both of the last two rounds, defeating the best team in attendance in the last round. We finished third overall and first in B and C.

The accident occurred between Worcester and Springfield.

The grass did not get mowed. On the trip home my 2007 Honda was rear-ended on the Mass Pike by someone driving a rental car. I did not yet have a cellphone, but he did. He did not speak English very well, but I did. So I called 911 on his phone. After about twenty minutes a state trooper appeared. After a few minutes he told me that he had given the other man a ticket for following too closely. I already had his insurance information; he had Progressive. So, I just drove home.

A few days later a Progressive adjuster examined my car and assessed the cost to fix a small dent on one bumper at $1500. I later was contacted by someone from Avis, who had rented the car to the other driver. They said that they would accept Progressive’s assessment and asked me to settle for $2,000. I spelled my name for them, and gave them my address. The check arrived a few weeks later. Four or five years later I traded in the car. I never considered getting it fixed.

Dave’s Life Master party at the HBC was shared with Sue Rudd (introduced here). I told the above story (minus the car crash and insurance). I balanced it with the tale of the first sectional in Hamden, CT, in which Dave and I competed as partners. We finished dead last in both the morning and afternoon session. I have never heard of anyone who could match that performance.

The best time that I spent with Dave was when the two of us dined at an Italian restaurant in Hyannis, MA. I recall that I ordered the Bolognese and a glass of wine. The food was good, and the conversation was better. For some reason it was very easy to talk to and to listen to Dave. By the time that we left, we had solved the most serious of the world’s problems.

I went to Dave’s wake and the ceremony for him at Wesleyan, where he had worked. When I met Jackie, I told her that Dave really loved her. I was certain of this because he never rolled his eyes when he talked about her. I really miss him.

A photo of Dave is in the Felix Springer section of this entry.


Peter Katz and I started playing together on Saturdays and Tuesday evenings after I stopped playing with Tom Gerchman. In 2023 I still played with him whenever the HBC had a game on Saturday. We had one great showing in August of 2023, which I have documented here.

Earlier in our partnership Peter and I played together in a few sectionals that were held in the Hartford area. At one of them we happened to have the last sitout in the afternoon session, which meant that we could go home early. Before we left we picked up hand records for that session. It did not take us long to realize that some of the hands that we played did not correspond to the ones on the printout. We reported this to the director, Tim Hill. He did not tear his hair out, but I am pretty sure that I saw his bow tie spinning around.

How could this have happened? Some directors like to play “web movements” when an awkward number of pairs are playing. If, for example, thirty-eight pairs are playing, the standard way to play it would be to have two sections, one with ten tables and one with nine. Both sections would be playing nine three-board matches. Each pair would only play against nine of the other thirty-seven pairs. A web movement would allow for one very large section playing fourteen two-board rounds. This requires two identical sets of boards, and they must be handled precisely correctly, but the directors who do this are very reliable about setting them up correctly.

In this case, however, the directors were not at fault. The two sets of boards were NOT identical. I don’t know how they were able to score this, but they eventually did. The directors definitely earned their salary that day.

When I first began playing with Peter he was something of a local celebrity. He and his wife (whom I never met) attended all of the home games of the Hartford University men’s and women’s basketball teams. Peter wore outrageous wigs to the games. I never met his wife, and I only saw photos of him in his super-fan getup.

At some point in the teens the couple got divorced, and Peter stopped attending the games. The marriage must have been stressful on him. He mellowed out quite a bit after the divorce.

At first Peter and I played a version of 2/1 that was not much different from what I had played with Tom Gerchman. At some point Peter began playing on Tuesdays with one of the best players at the club, Tom Joyce. They played a version of the Kaplan-Sheinwold weak 1NT system. I agreed to learn this and play it on Saturdays with Peter. That was what we employed in our big game.

Peter served as webmaster for the HBC. In 2023 I began working with him on posting the club’s monthly calendars.


Before the Pandemic I played regularly with Felix Springer. In fact we played together (and won!) in the very last game on March 15, 2020, before the HBC closed its doors for over a year. We also played together at a few tournaments, including a week at the Fall NABC in San Francisco in 2019. We also played together on a large number of very successful teams, but I usually paired with someone else.

Felix shared his Life Master party with Ken Leopold (introduced here). They asked Dave Landsberg and me to be their teammates. Before the play started, Dave turned to me and said, “Did you read their background stories? Why are they playing with us?”

I don’t know, but it was a good idea. We won our first four rounds. In the fifth round, we faced the other unbeaten team. They had at least five times as many points as we did. It was a very close match that turned on one hand. Laurie Robbins, an excellent bridge player, and I were both West holding the same cards. We each had to make a decision similar to the catastrophic one that I had made in the GNT with Michael Dworetsky. Laurie chose to try for game and went down. I settled for the partial.

Donna Feir.

Donna Feir, the longtime club manager, said that it was the only time that she could remember that the honorees won such a game, and also the only time that they were undefeated.

Felix, as president of the HBC, guided the club through the perilous times of the Pandemic. The club had almost no income, and it still had considerable expenses. He kept everyone involved with periodic newsletter, analysis of playing bridge with robots, and walks in the park. Donna confided to me that without Felix the club probably would not have survived.

In 2022 Felix did something that I never would have expected him to do, and it hurt me deeply. The story is related here.


Ann Hudson.

Ann Hudson lived across the river form Enfield in Suffield, CT, with her husband, Randy Johnson. I thoroughly enjoyed playing with both of them. The card that they played was very sophisticated. I must admit that I had a difficult time to remember the modified Manfield responses to an opponents takeout double.

For a few years Ann and I were rather regular partners for the half of the year that Ann and Randy spent in New England. The other half of the year they lived in South Carolina. In 2022 they moved from Suffield to Hadley, MA.

The only times that I got to play at the HBC with Randy were when Ann had to cancel at the last minute. It only happened a few times. He was an exceptionally good player. We played together in the open pairs in the sectional in Great Barrington, MA, one year and won the afternoon session.

Randy Johnson.

I met Ann while I was working at the partnership desk at the NABC in Providence in 2014. After that we played together pretty regularly at sectional, regional, and NABC tournaments and occasionally at the HBC if she could get away from her chores on their mini-farm.

I usually stopped at the McDonald’s on the south side of Hazard Ave. on the way to either their house in Suffield or at the Hampton Inn that was about halfway between us. On one occasion I was sitting in my blue 2007 Honda in the parking lot while I ate my sausage biscuit with egg. I had turned off the Honda’s engine while I ate. I could not get the car to start, and I did not have a cellphone yet. I had to go in to McDonald’s to use someone’s phone to call Sue, and I had to cancel my game with Ann. If was embarrassing. The best thing about Hondas is their reliability. Mine was telling me that it was time for a trade-in, and I listened.

Ann had actually been born in China. Both of her parents were university professors. They brought her to the U.S. when Ann was very young.

In 2015 my wife Sue and I decided to fly to Denver to play in the Fall NABC. Randy and Ann also planned to attend. Ann and I decided to play in two NABC events: the 0-10,000 Swiss and the 5K Blue Ribbon Pairs.

Kathy Rolfe.

Before those events started I picked up a partner for the evening side game, Kathy Rolfe. I had met her at a previous NABC when we were both playing in the lowest level of the Life Masters Event. When we came to her table she asked me if I was related to Vic Wavada in Kansas City, and—get this—she pronounced my name correctly. It turned out that Kathy knew Vic’s wife Theresa very well, and she had mentioned that I played bridge.

Kathy and I finished near the middle in the side game. We probably should have done a little better.

I had arranged to play in the 10,000 Swiss with a woman from Arkansas named Ti Davis.8 I told her that I was 6-feet tall, grey-haired, and skinny, and I would have on my red and blue Barça hat. She was playing with an Asian woman whom she met at the partnership desk. Unfortunately, we were overmatched in the event and only won one or two rounds.

Leonardo Cima.

On the next day Ann and I teamed up with Randy and one of his regular partners to play in an Open Swiss event. In the second round we played against Leonardo Cima and Valerio Giubilo, famous players from Rome. We had a little time to talk with them before the match. They told me that they were both from Roma. I told them that it was “la mia città preferita in Italia.”

Valerio Giubilo.

In the match Giubilo made an incorrect bid on an important hand causing them to miss a slam. Cima gave him a severe dressing-down. During the rest of the match they both spoke impeccable English, but during this post mortem Cima filled the air with Italian curse words.

We won the match, but we did not do well in the event. Giubilo and Cima won over 100 points in the tournament.

In the Mini-Blue Ribbon Pairs Ann and I played as well as we have ever played. I was very excited when we made it to the second day. We played pretty well then as well, but not quite well enough.

I was too intense for Ann in the Super Senior Pairs and Mini-Blue Ribbon Pairs at the NABC in Honolulu, as described here. She was not angry at me; I think that she felt sorry for me more than anything. After the tournament she drove to the airport and drove Sue and me to Enfield. Ann and I have played together in less stressful situations a few times since then.


I played with Michael Varhalamas a few times at the Saturday game at the HBC. I also played with him at least once in a Swiss in a sectional somewhere in Westchester County. I remember that he drove us there in his truck. Our teammates were two women from, I think, New Jersey. I don’t remember their names. Michael made the arrangements.

Twice during the game he bid dicey grand slams that I had to play. I made the first one without too much difficulty. The second one, however, was in the last round and required a squeeze—not my specialty. However, I pulled it off, and we ended up with a very good score.

Michael and his wife eventually moved to Saint Petersburg. Sue and I went to a bridge game there, and my partner, Chris Person, and I played against him in the first round of a pairs game at the local club. On one hand Chris opened 1[Suit x=”C”]. I passed with three or four points and only one or two clubs. Chris had only three clubs; it was a bloodbath. Michael recommended bidding in that situation, but only over 1[Suit x=”C”], not over any other opening bid.


Connie Dube

Before the Pandemic I played fairly regularly at the HBC with Connie Dube ( pronounced DOO bee). I met her when she and Myrna Butler agreed to be teammates with Ken Leopold and me at a regional tournament. They were late for the first round. Helen Pawlowski and Sally Kirtley sat in for them for one or two hands. In case you are wondering, this was definitely not legal. Since Helen told me that Myrna was always late, I did not hold it against Connie.

Connie and I played at a few sectional tournaments. Her availability was quite limited because her husband was suffering from severe chronic illnesses. As of 2023 she has not resumed playing after the Pandemic.


Joan Brault.

At the HBC I have played with Joan Brault quite a few times when one of her regular partners, Mike (really Michele) Raviele or Aldona Siuta, could not play. We have never set the world on fire, but we have played together a few times in 2023.

Paul Pearson and I teamed up with Mike and Joan at a sectional Swiss in the Hartford area. I think that we did pretty well.

She was a very talented artist. She also had a grandson who was a pitcher/outfielder for the Pittsburgh Pirates.


Over the years I have played with Mary Eisenberg both at the HBC and at a few tournaments. She asked her to help her to get her Life Master designation at an upcoming regional tournament in Danbury, CT. We played together in club games at least twice so that we could accustom ourselves to each other’s styles. One of those was a STaC (Sectional Tournament at Clubs) game that we somehow won. We earned a lot of silver points for that, but Mary still needed a small fraction of a gold point.

Mary asked me to drive us to the tournament. She had apparently been in an automotive accident a few months earlier, and she was still shaky about driving, especially at night. I picked her up at a parking lot at a supermarket near her home. I never did understand why this arrangement was necessary, but I did not question it.

We played in the Golden Opportunity Pairs at the tournament. It was a two-session event limited to players with less than 750 masterpoints. At the time I was within a few points of the limit. So, I was not afraid of any of our competitors. It was safe to say that I had more tournament experience than any of them. Gold points were awarded to players who had a good combined score (known as “overalls”) for the two sessions, but a smaller amount of gold was also awarded to the pairs that finished first (both North-South and East-West) out of the ten in each section of ten tables for each session.

We did very badly in the morning. I remember interfering against a team playing Precision. The player with the strong hand doubled my bid, and it resulted in a four-digit score in the minus column. Mary did not play very well either. Our score was bad enough that we had very little chance of getting one of the overall awards. Mary was very disappointed. She asked me if I wanted to go home. Go home? I hadn’t driven all this way when there was still a chance of achieving the objective. I said that we just had to win our section in the afternoon session, and that was (at least from my perspective) a reasonable goal. If we played as well as well as we had in the STaC game, we would prevail easily.

We did much better in the afternoon. I have always had a pretty good feel for anticipating results. I reckoned that there was a pretty good chance that we might have won. You never knew for certain; someone may have received a lot of “gifts” from their opponents.

During the last round they posted the standings after the penultimate round. We checked it when we finished playing the last round. We were in first in our section, but only by one point. I thought back on the last round. On the first hand one of our opponents had made a grievous error that should have given us a good score. On the second hand we bid to the best contract, but Mary made some mistakes in the play. The third hand was mediocre, but we did avoid possible errors.

It took the directors nearly half an hour to post the final scores. Mary was beside herself with worry. They finally posted the scores. We tied for first place, and so we had to split the gold award with the other pair. Fortunately, that was just enough for Mary to become a Life Master.

On a good day the drive the hotel to Hartford took an hour.

The trip back to Hartford was in a downpour. However, my Honda had good tires, and so I was not much concerned with the water, and I still had pretty good vision for night driving. So, I was going the speed limit. I nonchalantly passed trucks that were going slower. Mary had to hide her face for most of the ride. She was terrified of another accident.

When we got to Hartford Mary could not remember how to get to the parking lot when coming from the west. We drove around for five or ten minutes before she got her bearings. Since I still had a half-hour drive to Enfield, I was annoyed by this.

Some months later the club sponsored a Life Master party for Mary. I gave a short speech that highlighted two aspects of her activities. At the time she often brought baked goods or other goodies to the club. She also cooked professionally. She even cooked for the Archbishop of Hartford for a while!

The other aspect was her fear of driving. I claimed that she had taken up racing on the Formula 1 circuit, and I held up a large picture of her alleged Ferrari. This reference went right over (or maybe under) Mary’s head, but a few people in the audience understood what I was talking about.


I may have played with Eric Vogel at the HBC more often than any other player. He started playing a few years after I did, and he amassed a terrific record. After I played with him a while I realized that he shared my interest in conventions. Together we put together a good card.

We also have played together in tournaments. We won one session of the open pairs at a sectional in Connecticut. That story has been told here. At the Presidential Regional in Southbridge, MA, in 2023 we played in Bracket 2 of the knockout. We won the qualifying Swiss very easily but only finished a very disappointing fourth. That tale of woe can be read here.

Eric is another talented artist. He also became the club’s treasurer in 2022. He has not had an easy time with accrual accounting.

Eric unobtrusively became a vegetarian at some point during our partnership. He certainly was one in 2023, but I remember that he complimented me on my chili at one of the pot-luck lunches at the HBC.

Eric’s daughter died in 2022. I went to the service at his church. His wife gave a very nice tribute.


Partab.

Prior to the Pandemic I was playing at the HBC nearly every Tuesday with Partab Makhijani. I expected to resume playing with him when the club reopened, but he did not return to play. I think that he, like many others, might have health issues.

His LinkedIn page (here) said that he was on the adjunct faculty at the University of Hartford.


Buz.

I met Buz Kohn (LinkedIn page here) when he was playing with his mother Joan occasionally on Tuesday evenings. We have played together several times at the HBC both before and after the club closed for the Pandemic.

Although Buz was as good at playing the cards as anyone he was not very tolerant of conventions. I had trouble getting him to even use a convention card.

Buz was still playing at the HBC in 2023, but I think that he also had a house in Florida.


Sonja Smith was Steve’s mother, and she also had triplet girls. When I began playing at the SBC in 2004, Sonja played there regularly with a partner who subsequently moved away.

We played together at the HBC several time before the Pandemic and once or twice afterwards—including one of the sectionals in 2022—before she and her family moved to the South.

Sonja attended the 2018 NABC in Honolulu. Afterwards she and her husband Chris spent a few days in Maui, as did my wife Sue and I. Sonja, who was staying at a resort hotel a few miles north of our base of Lahaina, invited us to join them on Monday, December 3, for an expensive sunset cruise of Maui’s west coast. I described it in detail here. It turned out to be a booze cruise with very loud music. I did not enjoy it at all.


Jeanne Striefler and her husband Fred invited Sue and me to their house in West Simsbury several times before the Pandemic. Jeanne and I also played together at the HBC several times and played at teams events at nearby sectionals and regionals. She was part of our ill-fated team at the Presidential Regional described in Eric Vogel’s section. She served as the club’s secretary for many years.

Jeanne also played regularly at the SBC both before and after the closure for the Pandemic.

Jeanne was from Omaha, Nebraska. She grew up closer to my old stomping grounds than anyone else in the HBC.


Ron Talbot.

Ron Talbot, who attended Notre Dame, was the president of the HBC for two years. Before the Pandemic I played with him fairly often at the HBC as well as at a few sectionals in Rhode Island. If his partner was male. he wore a baseball cap while he was playing. If female, he was bareheaded.

Ron told me that he walked three miles every morning. I much preferred to do my walking in the evening. He also walked fifty miles in three days on the Appalachian Trail with his children and/or grandchildren. I don’t know if I could have done that.

Ron moved to Naples, FL, before the Pandemic. He has returned to the HBC once or twice.


Trevor Reeves.

Trevor Reeves served as president and then treasurer of the HBC. He implemented the budgeting system that was instrumental in helping to get the HBC through the Pandemic.

I played with him a few times at the club and at tournaments, including an open pairs game at the Summer NABC in Toronto in 2017 in which we were first in our section in the evening session.

Trevor was involved in the GNT difficulty that I described at the end of Felix Springer’s section.


The player with whom I have played for the longest time is my wife Sue. W have played together at the SBC, the HBC, at tournaments, on cruises, and clubs while we were traveling.

Sue’s HBC photo.

Sue had never played bridge when we met in 1972, but she had played a lot of setback, a much simpler trick-taking game, with friends and family members. She had no trouble learning the rules of bridge, but she had a difficult time understanding even the basics of the strategic principles concerning bidding and play.

I vividly remember one of the first times that we played as partners. It was at the house in Wethersfield of friends of ours, Jim and Ann Cochran, who were introduced here. I may have had a gin and tonic or two. It was a friendly game of rubber bridge. Nothing was at stake.

Sue and I got the bid in a suit contract, and Sue had to play it. The hand was not very challenging; all she had to do was to lead a few rounds of trump and then take her winners. Unfortunately, she neglected to take out the trumps before taking her high cards. So, the Cochrans were able to ruff several of her winners, and the contract went down.

Ann helpfully provided Sue with a way of remembering the importance of drawing trumps before attacking side suits. She taught her the old adage, “Get the children off the street!”

A few hands later Sue played another suit contract. She once again forgot about her opponents’ children, and they once again made enough mischief to set the contract.

On the third hand that I witnessed from across the table in my role of dummy, Sue’s failure to draw trumps led to another failed contract, I lost my temper, slammed my fist down, and broke the card table. I would have offered to buy them a new one, but at the time we were, as the British say, skint.

Nearly forty years passed before Sue and I played together at a sanctioned game. She joined the ACBL in 2011, seven years after I did. By the time that she started to play, I was already a Life Master. She blamed me for not warning her that the ACBL had changed the requirements for that rank on January 1 of 2011. The organization increased the number of required points, but they also made available new opportunities for obtaining them.

Over the years Sue and I played together at a few NABC tournaments, two bridge cruises, and at a few clubs in New England and Florida. At first I tried to get her to go over the hands with me after a session of bridge, but she really hated to do so. Our games together did not improve much over the years.

Sue has a lot of trouble with time, and in competitive bridge only seven minutes are ordinarily allotted for each hand. Contributing to this difficult are the facts that she plays—and does every other thing—rather slowly, keeps a very detailed score, and insists on playing North, the position that maintains the official results.

Mary Petit

I remember one Sunday in which we played in the High-Low game at the HBC. By chance I declared more than my usual share of contracts. We finished first! I cannot remember any other occasion on which we enjoyed even a modicum of success.

Sue would like to do better, but she does not have the drive that I have always had to improve one’s game. In short, she never reads books or bridge articles. She sometimes goes over a result sheet, but never with a critical eye.

She participated in the mentoring program once. Her mentor, an experienced player named Mary Petit, offered her some tips. Later Mary asked me why Sue did not use any of them. I knew the answer, but I could not explain it in a way that anyone else could understand. So, I just said, “That’s the way that Sue is.”


Document here are more of my partnerships at North America’s oldest bridge club before it closed for the Pandemic . Partnerships after the reopening are described here.


1. I naturally thought that I had twelve months of play. In fact, however, the year started on October 1 at the HBC. So, I needed to play 25 times in nine months, which I did.

2. I never got a chance to play with Mary Witt before she moved to Cary, NC. I have occasionally communicated with her by email.

3. Several years later Ruth asked me to play with her at the HBC. I remember that I made a mistake of some kind on one hand that prevented us from getting any points. She mentioned that she knew that I was going to do that. Ruth was a good player, but she never made Life Master because she did not like tournaments. She died in 2020 at the age of 86. Here obituary can be found here. Her parents brought her to the United States in 1940.

4. An abbreviated recounting of my long obsession with papal history has been posted here. The chapter of my book about papal history that makes reference to Nazi Germany is posted here.

5. Tom was an actuary, but he never made FSA. In 2023 he was still working part-time at a pension consulting firm called PCI.

6. This photo was unfortunately lost when the server on which NEBridge.org ran had a catastrophic system failure in 2015. I also had a copy of the photo, but I cannot find it.

7. Pat still plays bridge, but she moved to Charlottesville, VA.

8. As it happened, we played against Ti’s team in the semifinals of the Summer NABC in Washington in 2016. Her team won the match and the event. I did not play against her. She and her partner played the same direction as Felix and me.

1992 Cruising Tour of Turkey and Greece: Part 2

Three Greek islands, Ephesus, Athens, and Delphi. Continue reading

Buses transported the entire group from the hotel to the ship, which was considerably smaller than the Song of Norway. This was actually a good thing. It was easier to get around on this ship, and almost all of our time on it would during the hours of darkness.

The Dolphin IV may have been our ship.

I think that we must have left Istanbul fairly late in the day. I don’t remember that we had any days at sea. In fact, I do not remember much about being on the ship at all. The schedule was pretty much the same every day. We were always in port when we woke up. We ate breakfast on the ship. Then we disembarked from the ship and did something. Then we returned to the ship. After we left the port we had supper. There was usually some kind of entertainment in the evening.

I remember absolutely nothing about the food. It must have been passable and fairly plentiful. In those days I was probably more interested in quantity than quality. The cost of the cruise was quite low. We did not expect to be treated the way that we were on our two Royal Caribbean cruises (described here).

Our room was OK, and the service at supper was, too. There were no assigned seats, and I don’t ever remember us sharing a table with anyone. I don’t remember our cabin boy, but we must have had one.

If we had had a day at sea, it might have been tiresome. The ship had none of the amenities that the Song of Norway boasted. There was definitely no casino. I don’t think that there was even a game room or an exercise room or anything like that. We did not miss these things; we came to see the sights. If we wanted a drink on the ship, we could get it.

Magicians who specialize in productions need a good tailor.

After supper there was entertainment in a small theater. I remember three of the shows.

  • A magician performed one evening. I was still quite interested in magic in 1992 even though more than a decade had passed since I had devoted a lot of time to it in Detroit (as described here). The magician came on stage wearing a flashy sport jacket and did at least six or seven “productions”—making things appear out of nowhere: flowers, a cane, a dove, a bunny, etc. Then he took off his jacket for the rest of the performance. I wonder how many other people thought, “Well, I guess that that jacket is empty now.”
  • I seem to remember that there was a small orchestra/band on the ship. One night they played while some female dancers performed. Ordinarily I would have no interest whatever in such a show. However, Sue and I were within ten feet of one of the dancers when her left breast popped out of her costume. I paid attention after that.
  • On the last night of the cruise as our ship was en route from Santorini to Piraeus, the orchestra played Greek music, and a gourp of the crew members got up on the stage and showed how to dance to Greek music. One fellow really got into it and tried to coax passengers into joining him for the finale. Only a few did. I think that this fellow may have hit the ouzo a little early that evening.

Our first port of call was Mytilene (mee tee LEE nee), the port city and capital of the Greek island of Lesbos (LEZ voss). Although Mytilene is only 184 miles from Istanbul by air, it was quite a bit farther by sea, perhaps 300 miles. The first phase of our voyage took us down to the base of the Bosphorus, across the entire width of the Sea of Marmara, through the Dardanelles, past the site of ancient Troy, down the western coast of Turkey, then an abrupt turn back to the east, and then south to the western side of Lesbos, where we were actually less than seven miles from Turkey and very far indeed from the Greek mainland.

Sue and I took a guided tour that included at least two stops on the island. About ten or twelve of us were in the group, as I recall. We traveled in a small bus. Our guide was a young lady who was very well spoken and enthusiastic about her home island and Greek heritage. She told us about the historic conflict between Greece, of which Lesbos is one of the most distant islands, and “Asia Minor”, which is how she always referred to Turkey. She also spoke about the Turkish Revolution that ended in 1923 and resulted in the Greeks being expelled from modern Turkey. She called this event “the Catastrophe”. How strange it must be to live in such an otherwise isolated area only a few miles away from your country’s ancestral enemy. I don’t know for certain, but I suspect that the families of most or the residents have been in Lesbos for centuries.

Theophilos is on the right.

Our first stop was at the Theophilos Museum in the village of Vareia, just outside of Mytilene. Our guide explained that Theophilos Hatzimihail was an eccentric artist who was born in Vareia. She said that he was one of the few people who dared to wear the ancient historical garb, including a kilt and a curved sword. He also was a fanboy of Alexander the Great.

Theophilos’s works were generally very colorful and patriotic. He also often painted the locals of Lesbos engaged in mundane tasks. The guide said that they were like “cartoons”. Clearly she did not mean to disparage them. Instead, she was emphasizing that they told stories and were not necessarily realistic. Also, he also sometimes hand-wrote dialogue next to his characters, but he never used “balloons”.

I really enjoyed the visit to the museum. Theophilos was no Caravaggio, but I remember having a really good time looking at his paintings. and I had never felt that way before around art. Maybe it was just because the guide provided some context for me. It had a profound effect on me. It definitely affected the way that I approached subsequent trips.

After we left the museum the bus transported us into the interior of the island to another village. This one was, our guide assured us, locally famous for its beautiful church. I don’t remember the name of the village or the church. The church did not seem that special to me. It certainly was not as ornate as St. Bede’s church in Kelly, KS. The most memorable feature was the pair of nuns who cared for the church. I estimated that they were both about four feet tall.

After the visit to the church we may have stopped for lunch (I don’t remember) before returning to the ship. When I gave the guide her tip, I described the experience as “θαυμάσια”, which means “wonderful”.2 She was very surprised by this and smiled widely.

By the way, Sue did not share my enthusiasm about the excursion. Maybe I just had a slight crush on the guide.


Mytilene is in the top center; Kuşadası is in the lower right.

During the night we sailed from Mytilene to Kuşadası, a port city on the Turkish mainland. The primary reason for this stop was to allow passengers to view the remains of the ancient city of Ephesus. Almost all the passengers elected to take the excursion.

Ephesus was for centuries one of the major cities in Asia Minor. It figured prominently in the early years of Christianity. There is even a letter to the Ephesians attributed to St. Paul.

I think that we had a guide for this visit, but I don’t remember him at all. Someone official certainly accompanied us on the bus trip to the site, which is about twenty miles from Kuşadası.

Layout of Ephesus.

I remember that we were told that the city was a port in its heyday. However, the river and coastline silted up over time. The ruins are now about two miles away from the sea. By the fifteenth century the former city had been completely abandoned.

The ruins, however, were in pretty good condition. Perhaps the best aspect was that it felt like a real city, not just a group of isolated structures.

The one thing that both Sue and I remember the most clearly was the place where a footprint and a drawing in the paving stone have been interpreted as an advertisement for a local brothel. Our guide claimed that it was the oldest advertisement in the world.

The worst aspect was the fact that the site was guarded by soldiers with semi-automatic rifles. In 1992 this was a stunning sight. We were told that there might be a problem with Kurdish groups.

The building that impressed us the most at the time was the huge theater that could seat as many as 25,000. It was extremely well preserved. It took no effort at all to imagine a performance taking place there.

The other really impressive structure was the Library of Celsus. I remembered that the four virtues were celebrated in the facade, but the only one that I remembered was Sophia (wisdom). The other three—bravery, knowledge, and thought— I had to look up online.

Library of Celsus.

The guide did not tell us about Jesus’s mother Mary being escorted to Ephesus by John the Apostle. Supposedly she lived in or near the city up until her last days on earth. However, no Catholic believes that she was buried in the vicinity—or anywhere else. One of the very few statements ever made by any pope under the terms of infallibility was that Mary was assumed into heaven body and soul at the time of her demise. Pope Pius XII made this declaration in 1950 in the Apostolic Constitution, Munificentissimus Deus.

Of course, I was quite familiar with the doctrine of the Assumption when we were in Ephesus in 1992, but I did not know about the papal declaration. What is surprising to me now is that it was not declared earlier. The Assumption has been a part of Christian (but not biblical) tradition for a very long time.


Kuşadası is at the top, Rhodes at the bottom.

The next morning we landed in Rhodes, which is the name of both the port city/capital and the island on which it resides. The only thing that I previously knew about Rhodes was that it was the home of the Colossus of Rhodes, a huge statue that straddled the harbor. The statue disappeared many centuries earlier, but as our ship docked in that same harbor, and it was not difficult to visualize what the statue—one of the seven Wonders of the World—might have looked like in ancient times.

Part of the wall in the old town.

Rhodes was a very interesting place. A medieval wall circumscribed the Old Town. I walked the entire circuit by myself. It affoded great views both of the city on one side and the rest of the island, the harbor, and the sea on the other.

I was even able to read a few of the street signs. I recall that one of the streets was named ίππος, a common word from Homer’s time that is still used. It means horse. If he had ever written it, Homer would have placed a rough breathing mark at the beginning to indicate an /h/ sound. Modern Greek has dispensed with that character and that sound.

The Staircase of the Propylaea was pretty steep, but …

For centuries Rhodes was home base for the Knights of St. John, often called the Hospitalers. Several castles and palaces that they used remained on the island. I think that there were excursions available to visit some of them, but we did not take advantage of them.

Instead, we went to the nearby town of Lindos, which is pronounced like “LEAN those”, except that the last consonant sound is an /s/, not a /z/. It has a nice beach, but it is most famous for its Acropolis. One of the most stunning events of my life was climbing the very wide Staircase of the Propylaea there. Sue recalls ladies who sat on the steps selling home-made lace products.

Nothing but sky was visible at the top as one ascended the stairs. It was a surreal experience. However, when the top was finally reached, the view in every direction was absolutely stunning—ruins of the church of St. John, the sea, the village, the beach. It was almost too much for the senses to handle.

… the view from the top was spectacular in every direction.

Rhodes is in the upper right. Santorini is in the upper left. The big island at the bottom is Crete.

During the night we sailed west toward our final island, the picturesque Santorini. We knew nothing about it until we arrived there.

The small island is a long way north of Crete, but an event there had a large effect on the Minoan civilization that was based on its much larger neighbor to the south. That is because circa 1600 BC the volcano on Santorini (which was then one single island called Thera) erupted massively3 and buried the settlement at Akrotiri on the southern part of the island. It also caused tidal waves and earthquakes that wiped out the Minoan civilizations on Crete and other islands.

… but Sue insisted on the cable car.
I was game for riding a donkey up to Fira, …

The caldera of the volcano, which has became the harbor after the eruption is surrounded by very steep cliffs. The capital city of Fira and, from there, the rest of the towns and villages, can be reached by road. One way to get to the top is to ride a donkey. A faster way is to take the cable car. Both Sue and I remember exploring Fira and having lunch at a restaurant there, but neither of us remember how we got up and down. We definitely did not ride donkeys. We must have taken a cable car.

The roof in this photo of the Akrotiri site collapsed in 2005.

In the afternoon we took a bus to the archeological site of Akrotiri. This was the most informative and interesting excursion of the entire trip. When we arrived, the excavation was in its twenty-fifth year. These are probably the best preserved ruins ever discovered, and large portions of them were open for public viewing.

Our guide told us about some of the artifacts that were found here. It is indisputable that the merchants of Akrotiri traded with people from all over the Mediterranean. A large amount of written material was also discovered. It is in a language called Linear A. Unfortunately, we were told that no one has been able to decipher it.4



During our last night at sea the ship sailed northwest from Santorini (which Google Maps sometimes still calls Thera) to Piraeus, the port for Athens. We were then taken by bus to the hotel. During the drive we passed the Panathenaic Stadium in which some of the events of the first modern Olympics were held in 1896. We also were surprised to see a statue of Harry Truman, who was honored there because of the Marshall Plan that was implemented during his administration.

Most of the group took the excursion to the Acropolis. How could you visit Athens without seeing the Acropolis? Actually, I was a little disappointed by the Parthenon. It definitely was impressive to see from anywhere in Athens5, but when we finally arrived there, we discovered that a good bit of it was covered by scaffolding. So, for me at least, this was mostly just a matter of “ticking the box” on the bucket list. I did learn one new word that actually stuck in my memory: Caryatid.

The only social interchange with any of the other tour members that I can remember occurred while we were standing around on the Acropolis. As we looked down on Athens sprawling beneath us, we got into a conversation with two young ladies from the West Coast. They were interested that we owned a business, which we accurately described as “struggling”. One of the women astutely pointed out that we could not be doing too badly if we could afford to take a nice vacation like the one that we had both experienced. It was a nice thing for her to say, and it improved my mood.

After we had wandered around the Acropolis for the allotted period of time the bus drove us down to the National Archeological Museum in the center of Athens. Although I am absolutely positive that we visited it, I don’t honestly remember anything about it at all. If you want to know what is in it, I recommend that you watch the nine-minute video that is posted here.

At the hotel we had picked up a pretty good street map of Athens. I talked Sue into walking back from the museum to the hotel. If we became too tired or sore at some point, we could probably flag down a taxi. Incidentally, the taxi drivers in Athens were almost indistinguishable from the ones in Istanbul—same gender, same mustaches, same cigarettes held at all times in the right hand.

I wanted to stop at a clothing store or sports store in Athens to try to buy soccer jerseys with team names in Greek for my nieces. We stopped in a few places, but I don’t think that we found anything of that nature that was very appealing. The retailers in the center of Athens were mostly oriented toward selling souvenirs or very expensive stuff to tourists. It may be that the fad of wearing fake jerseys had not yet reached Greece in 1992.

At one point in the journey back to the hotel we stopped for a rest. Sue and I were resting on a low wall. An elderly woman approached us and addressed us—in Greek, of course. As quickly as I could, I tried to form the most useful short sentence that I could think of: “Δεν καταλαβαίνω,” which means “I don’t understand.” Before I could get the first word out, she correctly diagnosed our ignorance of her native language, turned her back and walked away. By the way, that first word, “Δεν”, is pronounced almost exactly like the English word “then”.

We happened to pass the home of the Prime Minister of Greece just as they were performing the ceremony of the changing of the guards. The soldiers wore absolutely absurd costumes, and their marching style would certainly have qualified them for the Ministry of Silly Walks. If the Turks frightened their enemies with their mustaches, the shoes of the Greek soldiers must have disabled their foes with uncontrollable laughter.

Sue and I had a good time at supper describing these guys to some of the other members of our tour group who had gone to the same restaurant. The atmosphere was festive, but the food was at best mediocre.


On our last day we took a bus to Delphi, the home of the famous oracles. The highlight of the trip occurred just as we made the turn to the west. I saw a sign for Marathon. It was fun to imagine the messenger making his fatal run from Marathon back to Athens along the same route that we had driven. I could visulaize him prostrate near the stadium as he called out in a strained voice, “Νίκη!”

Delphi itself was another disappointment to me. We got to hear the story of the oracles, and we saw the ruins along the side of a hill from a distance, but we were not allowed to get very close to them.

In point of fact, at this point in the trip we had seen about as many ruins as we needed to see. We had viewed a large number of broken columns and ruined buildings. At this point we would rather have dealt with something alive or at least intact.

Sue and I enjoyed this trip immensely. It seemed regretable that the only really disappointing day was the last one. I think that the trip would have worked better if it had been in the opposite direction—starting in Athens and ending in Istanbul. That would have put the most impressive ruins at Ephesus closer to the end and the one island with no ruins at all, Lesbos, just before Istanbul.

We flew back to JFK Airport on Long Island. The trip was completely uneventful; at least I don’t remember any problems. My recollection is that a limousine service brought us back to Enfield. In those days a company called CT Limo6 specialized in driving between the Hartford area and the international airports around New York City. Their prices were competitive; if not, I would never have agreed to such an extravagance.


1. Her attitude to me seems strange in retrospect. The Ottomans conquered Turkey in the fifteenth century. A few Christians still lived there, but the Turks were dominant until the end of World War I. At that point the allies and Greeks tried to impose a government on the area, but the Turks revolted and won their autonomy. So, she was really pining for a time that had been erased from history more than five hundred years earlier.

2. The word is pronounced, believe it or not, “thahf MAHS ee ah”. The alpha-upsilon diphthong in modern Greek is pronounced “ahf” or “ahv”, depending on the next letter. Upsilon is still a vowel when used alone, but when used with another vowel it has developed a consonant sound.

3. The volcano is still considered active. It last erupted in 1950. The ones in the 1920’s were more serious and caused some damage.

3. Volcano

4. Little progress has been made in the subsequent years. When I heard about this my first thought was that I would love to work on this project.

5. Mark Twain’s stealthy visit to the Parthenon is described beautifully in The Innocents Abroad. He was quarantined on the ship, but a group of men snuck ashore, made their way to the Acropolis and visited it by starlight.

6. CT Limo still exists and still offers this service.

Choosing the Next Pope

Who will emerge from the next conclave? Continue reading

In a short while pope #266 will be chosen. Who will it be? I have no idea, but I do know a few things about the way that he will be chosen.

The group that chooses the pope is known as the “Sacred College of Cardinals.” At one time the cardinals served as the link between the pope, who is the Bishop of Rome, and the suburbicarian dioceses of the surrounding countryside. In those days there were only a handful of cardinals, and their primary job was to meet with the pope and then return to the hinterlands to explain his policies to the people there. After the Roman Empire virtually abandoned Italy in the fourth century, the pope was forced to take on many civil responsibilities. From 800 through 1870 the pope was universally recognized as the monarch of a strip of central Italy that stretched from coast to coast. The number of cardinals increased, but they still served as advisers and legates.

There is, in fact, no limit on the number of cardinals, and there are no guidelines (that I know of) for the qualifications. All (or at least nearly all) of the current cardinals are bishops. That is a relatively recent development. In the nineteenth century, for example, Cardinal Giacomo Antonelli served as Secretary of State for Pope Pius IX, and he never even became a priest. One cardinal, a Portuguese prince, was only seven-years old when he received his red hat. He probably had to grow into it.

Nowadays, “cardinal” is considered a rank that allows the recipient to wear a variety of red garments and to vote for the pope. When a cardinal reaches the age of eighty, however, although he is still allowed to wear red, he can no longer vote for the pope. So, Pope Benedict will have absolutely no say in choosing his successor.

Well, I should probably amend that last statement to say that he will have no direct say in choosing his successor. Of the 117 electors, 67 were appointed by Pope Benedict. All of the others were appointed by his predecessor, Pope John Paul II. Since these two popes had remarkably similar ideas on how the Church should be managed, it seems inevitable that the next pope will not favor radically different notions.

The cardinals have been choosing the pope for about half of the history of the Church. That policy was implemented in 1059 by Pope Nicholas II. Perhaps the most surprising fact about the history of the papacy is that prior to 1059 there was no established method for selecting the pontiff! Some popes were elected by the Roman citizens, some were elected by the clergy, some were appointed by kings or emperors, and there is no record at all as to how quite a few assumed the office. It was not uncommon for more than one man to claim the papacy, and the matter was occasionally settled violently.

For centuries the papal election took place in whatever city the pope had perished. The electors now always meet in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican to choose the new pontiff. This process is called a conclave, which means “with a key.” The cardinals and a few attendants (Pope Pius XII’s attendants were nuns!) are locked in until they come to agreement. In the past this process has sometimes taken years! The longest one was held in Viterbo, starting in 1268. In 1271 the cardinals finally chose a man (not a priest) who at the time was taking part in the ill-fated Seventh Crusade, but not until after the impatient residents of Viterbo had hired carpenters to remove the roof of the room in which the cardinals had been locked.

All who participate in the conclave are sworn to secrecy. There is no official record of any of the votes or of the process by which the decisions are made. The official explanation is that the electors make themselves open to the Holy Ghost, and the third person of the Trinity inspires them to choose the best man. Some information, however, inevitably leaks out from one source or another. A Jesuit priest named Malachi Martin was a Vatican insider for several twentieth-century conclaves. He claimed that Cardinal Siri was elected pope at two different conclaves. Circumstances allegedly forced him to turn down the office on both occasions.

The essential requirements for being pope are remarkably simple. Each papabile must be a male Catholic, but not necessarily a priest. Many popes were not ordained as priests until after they were elected, and one, Adrian V, never did become one. Incidentally, this certainly qualifies as one of the most inexplicable piece of papal trivia. The pope is, by definition, the Bishop of Rome. Every bishop must be a priest. Therefore, most people would conclude that every pope had been a priest. The lesson to take home is that when it comes to the papacy there is an exception to almost every rule, even the tautologies.

There is no age requirement for the papacy. Pope John XII was a teenager when he was elected in the tenth century. His father made the arrangements (by paying off Roman nobility) for his ascendancy on his deathbed. Pope Benedict IX was also very young at his coronation (yes, the Pope until recently wore a crown called the “tiara”). One monk reported that this Benedict was only ten-years old, but historians today think that he was at least twice that.

I don’t expect the current College of Cardinals to choose another teenager. John XII was evidently murdered by a jealous husband who found him in bed with his wife. Benedict IX, who was accused of equally deplorable shenanigans, was driven from the papacy, regained it, and then sold the office to his godfather so that he could get married. After being jilted by his intended spouse, he eventually regained the throne once more, but he was finally overthrown in a second coup in 1048.

I guarantee that the new pope will not be a woman. The legend of Pope Joan is not taken seriously by any historians.

I doubt that the pope will be married, but it is possible. According to the Bible St. Peter, the first pope, had a wife. Not only was Pope Adrian II (867-872) married, but he lived with his wife after he became pope! A few other popes may have also been married. Many popes fathered children before they assumed the office. Pope Alexander VI had at least eight offspring whom he recognized, and he continued his promiscuous lifestyle as pope, although he traded in his long-time mistress for a newer model. His predecessor, Pope Innocent VIII, may have had twice that many kids. Life was different in fifteenth-century Rome.

The new pope will choose his own name. This tradition was started by the above-mentioned John XII, whose real name was Octavian. Prior to that time popes continued to use their given names. We will get some indication as to the pope’s intentions by his choice. If he chooses Pius, Gregory, or Paul, you can expect him to continue the conservative bent of the last few decades. If he chooses some other name, he may be making some other kind of statement. Benedict XVI, for example, chose his name as a tribute to the two previous Benedicts, who were intellectuals, Benedict XV during World War I and Benedict XIV in the eighteenth century.

No one has ever chosen the name Peter. That would be a striking statement that the new pontiff intended to return the Church to its roots. Don’t hold your breath.