Talking with a friend can take you places.
 
This month, while exploring the outer reaches of my neighborhood, my phone rings.  It’s Alla.

We haven’t spoken since last May and I don’t know whether she’s just checking in or has bad news (these days you can’t be too sure).  Still, it’s always wonderful to hear her voice.
 
She asks me where I am, and makes sure I’m safe and not moving. 
I assure her my bike is parked, the kickstand is down and she and the neighboring trees have my full attention.

While it’s a pleasant surprise to hear from her,
I almost know what she’s about to say.
 
We studied with Wynn Handman at his studio on 54th street. 
By the time I started in 2012, Alla had already been there several years. 
Over the next two years in that room, I came to understand why she stayed. 
(She was already professional grade when I got there)
 
Wynn’s stories and anecdotes are full of flavor, color and shape.  He welcomes you into his world by his words.  And sure, sometimes we would hear the same story over and over again, but it was well worth the journey every time. 

As someone who never really knew his grandfathers, I find his stories comforting, even if told in a friendly, yet professionally distant manner.  Out of a rich stockpile, I think the one that sticks with me most, and one he’s told so many times I’m sure many of his students can tell it, is how his young daughter outed him on the transit bus for trying to skip her fare
(by saying she was younger than she actually was) – his proud punchline:
she’s now a lawyer.

Talking with Alla reminds of the House Wynn built, the community he fostered.
Even after a full day, I loved going to night class.  It's great sharing work, getting to know classmates and spending quality time with fellow storytellers.  Plus, it's really exciting to see someone get something they couldn't before, especially with Wynn guiding the way.
 
I remember Alla’s "last" class (after a 5 year run), as well as seeing her return several years later. 
Like Alla, I simply love being there, spending time with Wynn and his stories. 
I’m so glad she was with him in what would be his final class on March 9th, 2020.
 
We all knew it would come, but didn’t know how or when.  As I sit on my bike with Alla and the weight of our memories, I bitter-sweetly feel proud of our time together, knowing that we both share a common thread, laden with stories, meaning and purpose.
 
It’s amazing to think, that in over 60 years of teaching how many lives Wynn touched, and how many stories he created.  I also think of the memories Alla and I share and hopefully will continue to build.

A week later, around 7:15pm (when night class would usually start) we're on a Zoom call full of Wynn-ers.  Alla leads the charge with a community-centric service that features Taps, Impressions, and even the Mourners Kaddish.  I listen, watch and feel connected in a way I rarely feel. 

So many people, so many shared experiences that revolve around Wynn and the American Place he created.  I log off around 1am, but know this is only the beginning of a new chapter.
 
Now it’s time for us to continue Wynn's story and legacy, and oh the places we’ll go, together.

In Honor and Memory of Wynn Handman
(May 19, 1922 to April 11, 2020)

Hollywood Reporter
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