Mystery writer Al Blanchard, Ed'69, MA'75, left at the top of his game.

"Al died upwardly mobile," says Hallie Ephron, fellow mystery novelist and crime fiction reviewer for the Boston Globe. "His writing career was in full throttle."

"He was a vibrant, full-of-life guy, with a future," agrees mystery writer Bill Tapply, once Blanchard's literary mentor.

Blanchard, a fifty-nine-year-old Waltham native, died suddenly last November while attending a mystery writers conference called the New England Crime Bake, which he had helped found.

He was in his third year as president of the New England chapter of Mystery Writers of America. "Al made the group a very welcoming place for new writers," says Ephron. "He let others share the spotlight with him. He was generous. As an author, he was prolific, and fearless."

Blanchard had eased into a second career as a mystery writer after thirty-four years of teaching social studies in the Waltham public schools, from which he retired in 2003. The seed was planted fifteen years ago, when Blanchard and wife Enid went to a talk given by Tapply—himself a former teacher—at the Waltham Public Library.

On the way to the book signing afterward, Enid had a thought. "It was raining," she says, "and we were walking together under one umbrella. And I said to Al, 'You know, you could do that.'"

Tapply remembers, "After my talk, this guy came up to me and said, 'Someday I'm going to do what you do.' Three years later, Al ended up in my writing group." Over the next six years, the group's weekly Wednesday-night meetings spawned the first two of Blanchard's five mystery novels.

His art drew from his life. In Murder at Walden Pond, protagonist Steve Asher is a middle school teacher who, by necessity, becomes a criminal investigator—and, yes, he's also a Northeastern alumnus. So is criminal justice major James Callahan, Blanchard's homicide detective in The Iscariot Conspiracy.

Another book in the Callahan mystery series, The Disappearance of Jenny Drago, has been optioned by a film production company.

Friends and family are still dealing with their loss. "Al was respected because of his work with the New England mystery writers group," says Tapply. "And because he wrote books people like to read. But the thing about Al that's way more important than his career is what a wonderful man he was. Everyone is just blown away."

- Katy Kramer, MA'00

  The Sarofeens with members of their big-name   bridal party.
  Photo Courtesy Koenisha Publications

Bridal Broadcast

Louise Fullerton, BHS'01, GB'02, and Rob Sarofeen, BA'02, had a terrific turnout for their wedding. About a hundred guests gathered for the February 11 nuptials.

That's not counting the studio and television audiences—which added 4.3 million more to the guest list.

The twosome tied the knot on Live with Regis and Kelly as winners of the daytime show's annual "Live Wedding" contest. Despite all the exposure, their big-day jitters were under control. "I think I would have been a little more apprehensive," Rob says, "if there were actually 4.3 million people I was onstage in front of."

In addition to their wedding, the Sarofeens won a honeymoon, a van, even a makeover for the groom. They also got the chance to motivate others to overcome life's difficult obstacles.

Rob is a quadriplegic as a result of a high-school diving accident, and has faced numerous health complications ever since. In fact, Louise entered the Live contest after Rob was hospitalized with kidney failure for a month last fall. "At the time, it was a big realization for both of us that we wanted to get married sooner rather than later," she says. "It just made us realize that what we had was so special, and we didn't want to let it go, ever."

Their love story began at Northeastern. Louise was a resident assistant in Willis Hall, where Rob also lived. He first visited her to borrow a stapler, but soon he was interested in more than office supplies. "Whenever I saw her, something would draw me to her," he says.

Rob now works as a financial analyst, Louise as a physical therapist. After the ceremony, they received many messages from well-wishers, including some notes from people in wheelchairs who'd been inspired by their story.

"If there's somebody else out there in this situation, there is hope," Louise says. "There is a lot you can do, no matter what the situation is."

- Lewis I. Rice, MA'96

  Barbara Springer
  Photo Courtesy Barbara Springer

Patriotic Pull

Twice a week, Barbara Springer, BHD'86, drops by the White House. She's not part of George W. Bush's inner circle, but she still does a lot of legwork there. She's a physical therapist for the White House staff, dealing with knotty hamstring, tendon, and rotator-cuff problems.

"I love it," Springer says. "Everyone is very smart—and they follow directions."

But that's not the only place she tells VIPs what to do. Springer, a U.S. Army lieutenant colonel, is the chief of physical therapy services at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, where she directs the therapists who treat soldiers who've been injured in Iraq. "It's labor-intensive," she says. "We bring amputees up to sports-level activities quickly—they're otherwise in pretty good shape."

She's responsible for 3,900 patients and a staff of forty-three. She's also a public relations manager of sorts. "I'm the gatekeeper," she explains. Springer has maneuvered such high-profile visitors as Tom Hanks, Michael Bolton, and Geraldo Rivera through the clinic. ABC, CBS, NBC, and CNN have visited. So has the most famous initial of all: W.

It's beyond where Springer envisioned her military career would take her. By her own admission, she was a "small-town girl" from Fort Fairfield, Maine. At Northeastern, she was in ROTC. "Boston was an adventure, and I got to travel a lot," she says. Co-ops took her from Caribou, Maine, to Denver, to New Orleans.

In 1986, she entered the Army as a physical therapist and second lieutenant. She expected to be out in four years.

She hasn't hung up her uniform yet. Along the way, she's earned a master's degree in exercise physiology from the University of Hawaii and a doctoral degree in health education from the University of Texas at Austin.

Today, her sons say the details of her job provide great show-and-tells and reports for their third- and eighth-grade classes. Springer remains wide-eyed herself: "I still feel like it's a dream."

- Katy Kramer, MA'00