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Alumni News | 1970s & 1980s
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1970s
Jon Probstein (Avner) ’73. As actor Jon Avner, I am currently General Di Ravello in Just Cause 3 and continue my live dinner shows with my company The Killing Kompany Comedy Murder Mystery Dinner Shows. As attorney Jon Probstein, in April 2016, I received a Certificate of Recognition from Nassau County Bar Association, Nassau/Suffolk Law Services and The Safe Center as a Top Provider of Pro Bono Services to the community. Contact: jonavner@jonavner.com, jmp@jmpattorney.com; 212 794-0373. | Summer 2016
1980s
Michael Balkind ’83. While I have not kept up with many Brothers, I will always cherish my years as a DU brother at SU. I still bleed blue and gold as well as orange. Having married my college sweetheart, Greer, a Delta Gamma sister, DU/DG keepsakes can be found throughout our house. I find myself comparing notes and reminiscing when my son tells me of goings on in his fraternity at Cornell – he and I recently dominated the beer pong table at his frat house parent’s night. | I am nearing completion of my 5th novel. Writing has consumed my life for the past 12 years. My 4th novel, The Fix, which takes place mostly within the Tudor mansion at 711 Comstock, has been my most enjoyable writing adventure to date. While DU and SU are not named (to protect all involved, uh…me and my co-author, Golf Channel host and SU alum, Ryan Burr) most of you will know many scenes and names very well (even our beloved cook, Marion, is a character.) As brother, Tre Mishka wrote in his Amazon review, “Don’t let anyone tell you that this story is “pure” fiction. Michael Balkind creatively blended some real life experiences from his college days at Syracuse University. These stories were meant to stay inside the fraternity house, Mike!” (Thanks Tre!) | While I spend most of my time writing, editing, and marketing my books, I also sell solar systems to help pay my kid’s three tuitions. Helping the environment as I earn a few bucks just feels good. | I also want to say thank you to the task force, Mike, Rick, Mark, Kevin, Ken, Al, Oz, Dick for all your time and effort with recolonizing our great institution on campus.
Contact: mbalkind@hotmail.com; 914-275-1394; www.balkindbooks.com. | Summer 2016
Contact: mbalkind@hotmail.com; 914-275-1394; www.balkindbooks.com. | Summer 2016
Jim Carroll '86. Extremely happily married for 29 years to Jessica '86, my SU Sweetheart who I met living on Flint 2a on the second day of freshman year. Proud of our 21 year old twin boys who are rising college seniors; one at Syracuse (we raised him right) and the other at Johns Hopkins (who still bleeds orange with the rest of us for everything except lacrosse). Have spent 25 years as a Sports Photographer and VP of Sales at Lors Photography in New Jersey. Living, enjoying, and appreciating family, friends, and life in general every single day! Contact: jcarroll@lorsstudio.com; 908-240-7217.
Dwight (Dewey) Emmons ’85 – Hey guys, been a long time. All these updates have been inspirational so I thought I’d weigh in and give my thoughts. Brace for it….. It’s so good to read everyone’s comments and refresh my memory on why I was so fortunate to stumble in to DU that spring of ’82. It’s been a long strange trip since ‘82 and there always seems to be a fellow DU involved in some fashion or another every step of the way. I read Peter Yorn’s post and couldn’t agree more about dinner’s at the house and just shooting the breeze with so many like minded fellas. I remember I would have to force myself to leave for the library after dinner or else I’d get swept up in the revelry. Next thing you knew it was past 10 and you’re on your way to the pubs where a flock of brother’s were keeping a fellow brother bartender company. To this day I tell anyone that asks about life in a fraternity that I would have flunked out if it wasn’t for my fraternity. The elder brothers would show you the ropes. Dan (Mac) MacDonald (rest his sole) would say, “Dewey, you need to get your work done right after dinner because we’re all going out around 10. Oh, and one more thing… never schedule a class before 9:40”. There was lots of other memorable advice, but that pearl of wisdom saved my bacon (I had a 2.2 after my freshmen year and made Dean’s list with a 3.4 both semesters of my sophomore year). | I never moved out of the house my remaining 3 years at SU. I was the old man living in the suite at the end of the hall with my own bathroom and exit (Who would ever give that up!!). But the good times at SU followed me after graduation and I have DU to thank for that. | Here’s a summary of my travails. After graduating I landed a job in Hartford, CT and moved in with my best buddy, brother Rich (Shells) Shelley. He and Mac grew up together in West Hartford and boom, now I’m friends with this gang of guys (the Hartford Boys) who quite honestly would have been DU’s if they had gone to SU. Shells and I (and sometimes more) would make excursions to Boston to party with the DU contingent of Newton boys, or down to Manhattan to hang with brothers Shirms, Cantor and all those knuckleheads. I hated Hartford. The city was a suitcase town and would be dead at 10pm on a Sat night. But those road trips made me feel alive again. | Around ’88, Shells and I started getting restless in Hartford. There had to be more to life than this sleepy city. I longed for the good times at DU. Shells and I decided were going to move to a bigger, better city. So we decided if we’re gonna move, then let’s go big or stay home and settled on moving across the country to Los Angeles (All those beer commercials of bikini’s on the beach were starting to have an effect on us). | Shells had a seasonal job and decided to fly out to LA and to do some reconnaissance. He’s out there a couple weeks and what happens!!! He meets a girl and falls in love. Not just any girl, he runs in to a SU KKG and they just hit it off. And, it’s not just any KKG, it’s Mac’s old girlfriend (Mac graduated before she did). | As you can imagine, we’re all scratching our heads on this one. Fortunately, Mac gives him his approval and the next thing you know, Shells is packing his bags and is gone within the month. We are all blown away. And I’m like… Hey Shells, what about me and our plan L. Not to be discouraged, I call up brother and good drinking buddy Paul (PJ) Johnson who just graduated the prior semester and was putting is Sociology degree to great use landscaping in Atlanta and living with his mother. PJ and I hatch a plan to get to LA, but we weren’t going to just drive straight to LA. No, PJ and I decide to take a 35 day road trip from Syracuse NY (one last weekend with the boys, plus some supplies) down to New Orleans and across to Las Vegas where we will meet up with Shells and Co to christen our arrival. PJ and I have the time of our lives. We have a brand new Chevy K-5 Blazer and $5000 (plus other essentials). We would drive all through the night; sleep in the woods through the morning/afternoon; cruise down into town in the late afternoon; do a fly by of the town to see what’s what: see the sites; eat dinner; close the bars and then do it all over again day after 35 days. We were 25 years old and living the dream. Best of all we stayed out of trouble; didn’t get one speeding ticket; and never saw the inside of a jail cell.
After we made it to LA safe and sound, PJ and I found a house a couple blocks off the beach in Hermosa Beach, CA. Fellow brother Bill Mulroy just happened to land a job in town and his brother (Mike) was going to school at UCLA. Brother John (Savs) Saviano was working in the film industry in Hollywood. Mike Miller moved out later. All of the sudden we had our own LA-DU contingency. Shells, PJ, Muls, his brother (Iron) Mike, Mike’s roommate Vinny and I would play volleyball every weekend; drink the pubs dry until closing and then play tunes all night long at PJ and my house. Everyone would crash at our place on the weekend. We had an open door policy. We rarely left town. It was like a mini DU house. I only remember two occasions where we all went to visit Savs in the hills. It was too dangerous to drink and drive in LA. Especially after the Rodney King riots. Those cops weren’t fooling around. What was their adage? Instead of ‘We serve and protect’, it was ‘Welcome to Los Angeles, where we treat you like a King’. But, I digress…. Anyhow, Hermosa Beach was fantastic!!! But, even though it was fantastic the beach life can become monotonous. I say it’s like eating lobster every night. Eating lobster every night sounds fantastic at first, but even lobster gets old if you have to eat it every night. After about three years there, everyone’s lives started to change. PJ and Shells got transferred to Seattle. Muls got shipped back to Buffalo. I was the last holdout, but around year ’95 I started getting restless. I started planning my exodus and the first person I consulted was brother PJ. I asked him if he could put me up for a couple days if I came up his way and looked for work. But, before that I filled him in on my grand plan. My plan was to drive around the entire Northwest (in the same Chevy K-5 Blazer we came to LA in); camp in every National Forest west of the Rockies; and end up in Seattle. I was going to follow the same method of operation as we used in ’89 (maybe a little less reckless).
So, I pack all my stuff in storage and my parrot (a cockatoo named Napoleon) and I were off on my first mid life crisis at the ripe old age of 35 (or is it the 2nd after the Hartford exodus, I don’t know). As anyone can imagine I had the time of my life. Going wherever I wanted. Eating and drinking wherever and whatever I wanted. Sleeping wherever I wanted (wink, wink). I zig-zagged from LA thru Utah; back to the Sierra’s; up thru Sequoia, Yosemite, and Kings Canyon; then across to Napa; up to the Redwoods and onwards along the entire Oregon Coast; then all the way across Oregon, Idaho to Jackson Hole Wyoming; up thru Yellowstone and out as far west as Deadwood South Dakota (gotta see Mt Rushmore, right?). It was an epic trip. There were no cell phones in ’95. I still used a long distance calling card. I shot 50 rolls of film and had to wait until I finished my trip to see if the pictures were any good (they are framed all over my house these days). After Deadwood it was near time to wrap it up. It had been over 3 months. I didn’t want it to end, but all good things have to come to an end. I planned my trip so my last leg would take me through MT, ID and back to Seattle, WA to stay with PJ. So, South Dakota was as far east and this last stretch was as far north as I was going to go in the United States. This was the end. Side note: Of all the national forests, Glacier National in northwest Montana was the most spectacular. It wasn’t even on my list, but it was on the path back to Seattle and I sure am glad I stopped in. | I ended up settling in Portland, OR. PJ and his friends advised me it was less crowded and 30% less rainy than Seattle. After 6 years in LA and 3 months on nothing but back country roads, less crowded and rainy sounded great. The best thing I got out of living in Portland was being taught how to coach high school boys lacrosse. I never really made any close friends like I had with my DU buddies. I had a good job and a nice apartment. Coaching was rewarding, but I started dreaming of getting out of the city. Maybe moving to Wyoming or Montana and building a cabin resort. | Anyhow, one day in ’98 blood started oozing out my ear. I had always had a slight infection in my right ear since I had swimmer’s ear in 3rd grade. But the gunk was never tainted with blood. Apparently doctors that diagnosed me back when I was little were not very good because a world renowned doctor in Portland told me I had a cholesteatoma. In detail, I had a bubble of infectious puss growing towards my brain from my inner ear canal. If I didn’t get it fixed I would die of meningitis. Sounds splendid doesn’t it? Well the resolution was even worse. The resolution to a cholesteatoma is a cholesteatomy. In a cholesteatomy, they make a half moon cut from the back of your ear up and over your ear to the front of the ear. Then they peel back the ear, drill your skull and extract the infection all the while trying not to sever any of your facial nerves. If you’re not dead after all that, they sow the ear back in place and send you packing (no overnight perks for you). To add insult to injury, they inform me that you can’t see the infection with an MRI and they will have to perform the incision again in 12 months so they can visually inspection to ensure the infection has not returned… Now boys, I had never been more in need of a drink in my entire life than the day I left that doctor’s office. After a 2nd opinion, next thing you know they are wheeling me in to OR. Six hours later, I wake up and feel like I just ran over an IED in my Blazer. The next day I unveiled my head. I pull off the bandages and sure as shit, there was just this slight half moon incision from the back of the ear and up and over to the front side of my ear. The doc made sure the entire incision was up in my hair line. He did a fantastic job! Understand, the side of my head and ear was so swollen my ear looked like an open cab door or like Sloth Fratelli’s ear (think monster in the Goonies). But you could tell it would heal up nicely. Where am I going with this? Well, my research on cholesteatomys didn’t make me feel real good about my long term prospects. I decided I’m getting out of this rat race, city life and and following my dreams to move someplace quiet in the mountains like I’ve always dreamed of. So what does that mean…. Road Trip!!! After the follow up surgery, it was ’99. I was a programmer but graduated from the School of Management at ‘Cuse. I had been investing in stocks through the entire dot-com build up. Fortunately, being in computers, I had been buying all those little start ups like Microsoft, Intel, and Sun Microsystems. So I cashed some in, packed up my Chevy K-5 Blazer (by the way I still have it today) and hit the road. I drove from Oregon, across the Colorado Rockies, all the way out to Portland Maine and then back along the I-90 to Seattle and then home to Portland again. It took me about 2 months. This trip was shorter because camping stinks once you get east of the Rockies. Ironically, I found the perfect place just 400 miles from Portland, OR. I’d been there before but totally forgot about it. It’s a small town of 40,000ish on I-90 in North Idaho, on a beautiful 20 mile lake, called Coeur d’Alene (pronounced ‘core duh lane’). I cashed in my stocks as the market was crashing in ’01 and bought a house only 5 blocks from town and 7 blocks from the water on a nice tree lines street (I decided a cabin resort was not as appealing as living near the lake). I was contract programming, had a flexible schedule and some dot-com cash to hold me over so I decided to start boys high school lacrosse at the two high schools in town (there are now 10 high school teams in the area). My contracting work led to full time employment developing software in the health insurance industry. I still get to telecommute from home and now have full benefits. Things turned out pretty good after that scare in Portland. And it got even better. Seven years ago I met the most beautiful, considerate, dangerously intelligent woman I’ve ever crossed paths with in my 46 years of philandering. I asked her to move in within a month and we were married a year later. Today we enjoy skiing in the winter and boating in the summer. There’s tons to do here. Sorry, no potato fields, just mountains, lakes and rivers (Potato fields are in southern Idaho, so quit your wise cracks Shells!). But most of all, I enjoy strolling down to the pub and having a beer with the tourists and the locals. Just the way we used to at ‘Cuse back in the day. I miss you guys. Look me up if you’re in the vicinity. Contact: dwightemmons@roadrunner.com; (208) 691-9270, | Summer 2016
After we made it to LA safe and sound, PJ and I found a house a couple blocks off the beach in Hermosa Beach, CA. Fellow brother Bill Mulroy just happened to land a job in town and his brother (Mike) was going to school at UCLA. Brother John (Savs) Saviano was working in the film industry in Hollywood. Mike Miller moved out later. All of the sudden we had our own LA-DU contingency. Shells, PJ, Muls, his brother (Iron) Mike, Mike’s roommate Vinny and I would play volleyball every weekend; drink the pubs dry until closing and then play tunes all night long at PJ and my house. Everyone would crash at our place on the weekend. We had an open door policy. We rarely left town. It was like a mini DU house. I only remember two occasions where we all went to visit Savs in the hills. It was too dangerous to drink and drive in LA. Especially after the Rodney King riots. Those cops weren’t fooling around. What was their adage? Instead of ‘We serve and protect’, it was ‘Welcome to Los Angeles, where we treat you like a King’. But, I digress…. Anyhow, Hermosa Beach was fantastic!!! But, even though it was fantastic the beach life can become monotonous. I say it’s like eating lobster every night. Eating lobster every night sounds fantastic at first, but even lobster gets old if you have to eat it every night. After about three years there, everyone’s lives started to change. PJ and Shells got transferred to Seattle. Muls got shipped back to Buffalo. I was the last holdout, but around year ’95 I started getting restless. I started planning my exodus and the first person I consulted was brother PJ. I asked him if he could put me up for a couple days if I came up his way and looked for work. But, before that I filled him in on my grand plan. My plan was to drive around the entire Northwest (in the same Chevy K-5 Blazer we came to LA in); camp in every National Forest west of the Rockies; and end up in Seattle. I was going to follow the same method of operation as we used in ’89 (maybe a little less reckless).
So, I pack all my stuff in storage and my parrot (a cockatoo named Napoleon) and I were off on my first mid life crisis at the ripe old age of 35 (or is it the 2nd after the Hartford exodus, I don’t know). As anyone can imagine I had the time of my life. Going wherever I wanted. Eating and drinking wherever and whatever I wanted. Sleeping wherever I wanted (wink, wink). I zig-zagged from LA thru Utah; back to the Sierra’s; up thru Sequoia, Yosemite, and Kings Canyon; then across to Napa; up to the Redwoods and onwards along the entire Oregon Coast; then all the way across Oregon, Idaho to Jackson Hole Wyoming; up thru Yellowstone and out as far west as Deadwood South Dakota (gotta see Mt Rushmore, right?). It was an epic trip. There were no cell phones in ’95. I still used a long distance calling card. I shot 50 rolls of film and had to wait until I finished my trip to see if the pictures were any good (they are framed all over my house these days). After Deadwood it was near time to wrap it up. It had been over 3 months. I didn’t want it to end, but all good things have to come to an end. I planned my trip so my last leg would take me through MT, ID and back to Seattle, WA to stay with PJ. So, South Dakota was as far east and this last stretch was as far north as I was going to go in the United States. This was the end. Side note: Of all the national forests, Glacier National in northwest Montana was the most spectacular. It wasn’t even on my list, but it was on the path back to Seattle and I sure am glad I stopped in. | I ended up settling in Portland, OR. PJ and his friends advised me it was less crowded and 30% less rainy than Seattle. After 6 years in LA and 3 months on nothing but back country roads, less crowded and rainy sounded great. The best thing I got out of living in Portland was being taught how to coach high school boys lacrosse. I never really made any close friends like I had with my DU buddies. I had a good job and a nice apartment. Coaching was rewarding, but I started dreaming of getting out of the city. Maybe moving to Wyoming or Montana and building a cabin resort. | Anyhow, one day in ’98 blood started oozing out my ear. I had always had a slight infection in my right ear since I had swimmer’s ear in 3rd grade. But the gunk was never tainted with blood. Apparently doctors that diagnosed me back when I was little were not very good because a world renowned doctor in Portland told me I had a cholesteatoma. In detail, I had a bubble of infectious puss growing towards my brain from my inner ear canal. If I didn’t get it fixed I would die of meningitis. Sounds splendid doesn’t it? Well the resolution was even worse. The resolution to a cholesteatoma is a cholesteatomy. In a cholesteatomy, they make a half moon cut from the back of your ear up and over your ear to the front of the ear. Then they peel back the ear, drill your skull and extract the infection all the while trying not to sever any of your facial nerves. If you’re not dead after all that, they sow the ear back in place and send you packing (no overnight perks for you). To add insult to injury, they inform me that you can’t see the infection with an MRI and they will have to perform the incision again in 12 months so they can visually inspection to ensure the infection has not returned… Now boys, I had never been more in need of a drink in my entire life than the day I left that doctor’s office. After a 2nd opinion, next thing you know they are wheeling me in to OR. Six hours later, I wake up and feel like I just ran over an IED in my Blazer. The next day I unveiled my head. I pull off the bandages and sure as shit, there was just this slight half moon incision from the back of the ear and up and over to the front side of my ear. The doc made sure the entire incision was up in my hair line. He did a fantastic job! Understand, the side of my head and ear was so swollen my ear looked like an open cab door or like Sloth Fratelli’s ear (think monster in the Goonies). But you could tell it would heal up nicely. Where am I going with this? Well, my research on cholesteatomys didn’t make me feel real good about my long term prospects. I decided I’m getting out of this rat race, city life and and following my dreams to move someplace quiet in the mountains like I’ve always dreamed of. So what does that mean…. Road Trip!!! After the follow up surgery, it was ’99. I was a programmer but graduated from the School of Management at ‘Cuse. I had been investing in stocks through the entire dot-com build up. Fortunately, being in computers, I had been buying all those little start ups like Microsoft, Intel, and Sun Microsystems. So I cashed some in, packed up my Chevy K-5 Blazer (by the way I still have it today) and hit the road. I drove from Oregon, across the Colorado Rockies, all the way out to Portland Maine and then back along the I-90 to Seattle and then home to Portland again. It took me about 2 months. This trip was shorter because camping stinks once you get east of the Rockies. Ironically, I found the perfect place just 400 miles from Portland, OR. I’d been there before but totally forgot about it. It’s a small town of 40,000ish on I-90 in North Idaho, on a beautiful 20 mile lake, called Coeur d’Alene (pronounced ‘core duh lane’). I cashed in my stocks as the market was crashing in ’01 and bought a house only 5 blocks from town and 7 blocks from the water on a nice tree lines street (I decided a cabin resort was not as appealing as living near the lake). I was contract programming, had a flexible schedule and some dot-com cash to hold me over so I decided to start boys high school lacrosse at the two high schools in town (there are now 10 high school teams in the area). My contracting work led to full time employment developing software in the health insurance industry. I still get to telecommute from home and now have full benefits. Things turned out pretty good after that scare in Portland. And it got even better. Seven years ago I met the most beautiful, considerate, dangerously intelligent woman I’ve ever crossed paths with in my 46 years of philandering. I asked her to move in within a month and we were married a year later. Today we enjoy skiing in the winter and boating in the summer. There’s tons to do here. Sorry, no potato fields, just mountains, lakes and rivers (Potato fields are in southern Idaho, so quit your wise cracks Shells!). But most of all, I enjoy strolling down to the pub and having a beer with the tourists and the locals. Just the way we used to at ‘Cuse back in the day. I miss you guys. Look me up if you’re in the vicinity. Contact: dwightemmons@roadrunner.com; (208) 691-9270, | Summer 2016
Ronnie Hochman ’85. I have been working at Sanford C. Bernstein in NYC for 17 years, trading equities. I live in Short Hills, NJ. Wife Lauren. 2 sons: Joshua about to start junior year at Yale and Jeremy who will be attending SU this fall! Looking forward to spending time up in Syracuse. Contact: Ronald.hochman@bernstein.com, Rhochman@mac.com; 212-756-4670 (w), 973-879-6357 (h). | Summer 2016
Jeff Ploshnick ’88. Lived in NYC for 8 years after graduation. Worked on New York Stock Exchange and other sales/trading jobs in NY while getting my MBA in Finance from Fordham University. Married college sweetheart (Shari Lehrer SU ’88, Kappa Alpha Theta). Wedding attended by a number of DUs. Moved to DC area in late 1990s. Currently Senior Portfolio Manager at ProShare Advisors. Son Jack is rising sophomore at Washington University in St. Louis and son Reid is rising sophomore in high school. Looking forward to serving on the DU Undergraduate Advisory Board. Contact: jeffplosh@hotmail.com; 301-908-0310. | Summer 2016
Paul Simon ’88. Hey Brothers, Paul Simon here. Life is good- as I live in Needham, MA with two children & my amazing wife. They accept that I still think I'm 21, & laugh at my memorable DU stories. I own a men's clothing store (Simon & Sons) & enjoy the retail world. My DU brothers are still my closest friends. I try to live my life with as many boners/ bonuses possible! The Boston welcoming committee of Brothers Hyman, Simon, Maescher, Maney, & Richmond are too happy entertain any guys who happen to be here for biz. We've had visits from Whalen, Plosh, Silverman, The Seattle Boys & others. As we get ready to recolonize- I can't wait to have more great memories together. Contact: thesuitguy@comcast.net; 781-910-5066. | Summer 2016
Kevin Stein ’83. Living in DC Metro Area with my bride of 20 years and my two teenage daughters. Oldest is a Junior at Indiana, youngest is a senior in High School. After 30 years of working for large companies including Chase, Barclays and the US Government (FDIC), I am now working for a family office focused on venture capital and private equity investing. In touch with too many DUs to list here. Enjoying the camaraderie and team work associated with the Recolonization Committee along with Whalen, Buster, Sarge, Minty, Al, the fellow Flint '79 resident often known as the "Nay" and fearless leader Dick Thorpe. I was moved to see John “JR” Greblick '83 recently on a sad occasion, in attendance at my father's funeral in Binghamton, New York. John and I are long-time friends and grade school classmates. Recently attended the Sting and Peter Gabriel concert at Madison Square Garden with Larry Cantor ’84 and Steven Hochberg ’83. Fond DU memories of pledging with Bill Strickland '81 and Dick Lowery ’82 as my co-pledge trainers, subsequently living at 711 Comstock in the second floor triple with Bill Mulroy '83 and Jeff Aber '83 as well as my semester abroad in London in 1982 with roommates Steven Hochberg '83 and Hal Fetner '83.
Contact: kevin@truestein.com. | Summer 2016
Contact: kevin@truestein.com. | Summer 2016
Andrew “Schirms” Schirmer ’84. I’ve been living in Pound Ridge, NY for 16 years with my wife, Andrea, an actress. I have two daughters: Halle, a recent Gettysburg College grad, and Sophie, a UVM rising senior. I’ve been in the advertising and health care marketing industry for almost 30 years, currently focusing on global health, having engagements with UNICEF, USAID, J&J, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, among others. When not trying to change behaviors and health outcomes around the world, I live a fairly simple life hanging with family on the porch, riding a lot of miles on my road bike, building stone walls and playing beach volleyball. I connect with a core group of tri-state DU brothers, including LC, Muls, the Nay, Yarley, Linamin, Largo, Smiley and Hane. There you go, figure them out. Contact: Andrew.Schirmer@McCann.Com; 917-496-5623. | Summer 2016