Remembering Allyson Carlye’s lifelong work as a cataloger through her 2010 appearance in the iSchool’s “Librarians Do Gaga” video.
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September 18, 2020 at 12:45 pm
It’s the day after Allyson’s beautiful memorial service. I dreamed about Allyson last night, and I’m thinking about her today, wishing I had been brave enough to speak up to honor her during the memorial.
I was high school friends with Allyson in Missoula, Montana and probably had met her in elementary school through our good friend Terri who was her classmate. Allyson and I kept in touch through letters and her return visits home during our undergrad years, and through letters and exchanged cassette tapes (those have got to be somewhere in my basement!) during her Peace Corps years. In our adult/career years we lived half a continent apart. We still had occasional visits (mostly Allyson visiting me although I did see her first house in Seattle) and infrequent letters. So I really didn’t know her in her professional life.
In reading through the tributes here and listening yesterday, I heard about many of Allyson’s attributes that I also experienced and recognized including her fierce devotion to friends, advocacy for minorities, and her impulse to be a caretaker. One thing that wasn’t mentioned is that Allyson knew how to be a good guest. She told me this had been taught to her by a family she was close to in her College of Idaho years. (I hope someone out there recognizes themselves!) During her last visit to my home, Allyson changed a light bulb, insisted on taking me out to breakfast plus paying the parking meter, and put clean sheets on the bed before she left.
Another thing others mentioned was a surprise to me. Allyson was a wonderful cook. So I thought I would share a memory involving cooking. For some reason I can’t recall, Allyson was over at my house (we were high schoolers) and she was going to teach me how to make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to make. I didn’t know how to make it because my household was of the convenience foods era - Tang, instant mashed potatoes, Shake ’n Bake chicken. Spaghetti as I knew it came in a Chef Boyardee box. The only thing I can remember from Allyson’s instruction was that spaghetti needs lots of spices. “Just look in your cupboard, see what you have, and put it in.” “Celery salt?”, I asked. “Yeah - put it in,” she replied.
For some reason, Allyson and I hardly ever spoke on the phone. But out of the blue, she called me for my birthday this year in early March. I actually had to call her back several days later since we didn’t connect at first. I caught her out doing errands, getting cat food. She was a bit stressed, and spoke of trying to keep COVID out of her household which included those who were vulnerable. I’m grateful for that last conversation, before her diagnosis.
My friend Terri introduced me to Allyson and it was Terri who called to tell me she had died. I’d had a plan, never shared, that when we were all fully retired the three of us high school friends would begin a regular series of get togethers. There was no real reason that this had to wait for retirement. So it is a reminder for me that memories should be made when there is the opportunity. I think Allyson did that and lived very fully. I will miss her.
It's the day It’s the day after Allyson’s beautiful memorial service. I dreamed about Allyson last night, and I’m thinking about her today, wishing I had been brave enough to speak up to honor her during the memorial.
I was high school friends with Allyson in Missoula, Montana and probably had met her in elementary school through our good friend Terri who was her classmate. Allyson and I kept in touch through letters and her return visits home during our undergrad years, and through letters and exchanged cassette tapes (those have got to be somewhere in my basement!) during her Peace Corps years. In our adult/career years we lived half a continent apart (I’m now in Ann Arbor, Michigan.) We still had occasional visits (mostly Allyson visiting me although I did see her first house in Seattle) and infrequent letters. So I really didn’t know her in her professional life.
In reading through the tributes here and listening yesterday, I heard about many of Allyson’s attributes that I also recognized including her fierce devotion to friends, advocacy for minorities, and her impulse to be a caretaker. One thing that wasn’t mentioned is that Allyson knew how to be a good guest. She told me this had been taught to her by a family she was close to in her College of Idaho years. (I hope someone out there recognizes themselves!) During her last visit to my home, Allyson changed a light bulb, insisted on taking me out to breakfast plus paying the parking meter, and put clean sheets on the bed before she left.
Another thing others mentioned was a surprise to me. Allyson was a wonderful cook. So I thought I would share a memory involving cooking. For some reason I can’t recall, Allyson was over at my house (we were high schoolers) and she was going to teach me how to make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to make. I didn’t know how to make it because my household was of the convenience foods era - Tang, instant mashed potatoes, Shake ’n Bake chicken. Spaghetti as I knew it came in a Chef Boyardee box. The only thing I can remember from Allyson’s instruction was that spaghetti needs lots of spices. “Just look in your cupboard, see what you have, and put it in.” “Celery salt?”, I asked. “Yeah - put it in,” she replied.
For some reason, Allyson and I hardly ever spoke on the phone. But out of the blue, she called me for my birthday this year in early March. I actually had to call her back several days later since we didn’t connect at first. I caught her out doing errands, getting cat food. She was a bit stressed, and spoke of trying to keep COVID out of her household which included those who were vulnerable. I’m grateful for that last conversation, before her diagnosis.
My friend Terri introduced me to Allyson and it was Terri who called to tell me she had died. I’d had a plan, never shared, that when we were all fully retired the three of us high school friends would begin a regular series of get togethers. There was no real reason that this had to wait for retirement. So it is a reminder for me that memories should be made whenever there is the opportunity. I think Allyson did that and lived very fully. I will miss her.
It's the day after Allyson's beautiful memorial service. I dreamed about Allyson last night, and I'm thinking about her today, wishing I had been brave enough to speak to honor her during the memorial.
I was high school friends with Allyson in Missoula, Montana and probably had met her in elementary school through our good friend Terri who was her classmate. Allyson and I kept in touch through letters and her return visits home during our undergrad years, ad through letters abad exchanged cassette tapes (those have got to be somewhere in my basement!) during her Peace Corps years. In our adult/career years we lived half a continent apart. We still had occasional visits (mostly Allyson visiting me although I did see her first house in Seattle) and infrequent letters. So I really didn't know her in her professional life.
In through the tributes here and listening yesterday, I heard about many of Allyson's attributes that a I also recognized including her fierce devotion to friends, advocacy for minorities, and her impulse to be a caretaker. One thing that wasn't mentioned is that Allyson knew how to be a good guest. She told me this had been taught her by a family she was close to in her College of Idaho years. (I hope someone out there recognizes themselves!) During her last visit to my home, Allyson changed a light bulb, insisted on taking me out to breakfast plus paying the parking meter, and put clean sheets on the bed before she left.
Another thing others mentioned was a surprise to me. Allyson was a wonderful cook. So I thought I would share a memory involving cooking. For some reason I can't recall, Allyson was over at my house (we were high schoolers) and she was going to teach me how to make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to make. I didn't know how to make it because my household was of the convenience foods era - Tang, instant mashed potatoes, Shake'n Bake chicken. Spaghetti as I knew it came in a Chef Boyardee box. The only thing I can remember from Allyson's instruction was that spaghetti needs lots of spices. "Just look in your cupboard, see what you have, and put it in." "Celery salt?", I asked. "Yeah - put it in," she replied.
For some reason, Allyson and I hardly ever spoke on the phone. But out of the blue, she called me for my birthday this year in early March. I actually had to call her back several days later since we didn't connect at first. I caught her out doing errands, buying cat food. She was a bit stressed, and spoke of trying to keep COVID out of her household which included those who were vulnerable. I'm grateful for that last conversation, before her diagnosis.
My friend Terri introduced me to Allyson Aad it was Terri who called to tell me she had died. I'd had a lean, never shared, that when we were all fully retired the three of us high school friends would begin a regular series of get togethers. There was no real reason that this had to wait for retirement. So it is a reminder for me to make memories when there is the opportunity. I think Allyson did that and lived very fully. I will miss her.
I was high school friends with Allyson in Missoula, Montana and probably had met her in elementary school through our good friend Terri who was her classmate. Allyson and I kept in touch through letters and her return visits home during our undergrad years, and through letters and exchanged cassette tapes (those have got to be somewhere in my basement!) during her Peace Corps years. In our adult/career years we lived half a continent apart. We still had occasional visits (mostly Allyson visiting me although I did see her first house in Seattle) and infrequent letters. So I really didn’t know her in her professional life.
In reading through the tributes here and listening yesterday, I heard about many of Allyson’s attributes that I also experienced and recognized including her fierce devotion to friends, advocacy for minorities, and her impulse to be a caretaker. One thing that wasn’t mentioned is that Allyson knew how to be a good guest. She told me this had been taught to her by a family she was close to in her College of Idaho years. (I hope someone out there recognizes themselves!) During her last visit to my home, Allyson changed a light bulb, insisted on taking me out to breakfast plus paying the parking meter, and put clean sheets on the bed before she left.
Another thing others mentioned was a surprise to me. Allyson was a wonderful cook. So I thought I would share a memory involving cooking. For some reason I can’t recall, Allyson was over at my house (we were high schoolers) and she was going to teach me how to make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to make. I didn’t know how to make it because my household was of the convenience foods era - Tang, instant mashed potatoes, Shake ’n Bake chicken. Spaghetti as I knew it came in a Chef Boyardee box. The only thing I can remember from Allyson’s instruction was that spaghetti needs lots of spices. “Just look in your cupboard, see what you have, and put it in.” “Celery salt?”, I asked. “Yeah - put it in,” she replied.
For some reason, Allyson and I hardly ever spoke on the phone. But out of the blue, she called me for my birthday this year in early March. I actually had to call her back several days later since we didn’t connect at first. I caught her out doing errands, getting cat food. She was a bit stressed, and spoke of trying to keep COVID out of her household which included those who were vulnerable. I’m grateful for that last conversation, before her diagnosis.
My friend Terri introduced me to Allyson and it was Terri who called to tell me she had died. I’d had a plan, never shared, that when we were all fully retired the three of us high school friends would begin a regular series of get togethers. There was no real reason that this had to wait for retirement. So it is a reminder for me that memories should be made when there is the opportunity. I think Allyson did that and lived very fully. I will miss her.
It's the day It’s the day after Allyson’s beautiful memorial service. I dreamed about Allyson last night, and I’m thinking about her today, wishing I had been brave enough to speak up to honor her during the memorial.
I was high school friends with Allyson in Missoula, Montana and probably had met her in elementary school through our good friend Terri who was her classmate. Allyson and I kept in touch through letters and her return visits home during our undergrad years, and through letters and exchanged cassette tapes (those have got to be somewhere in my basement!) during her Peace Corps years. In our adult/career years we lived half a continent apart (I’m now in Ann Arbor, Michigan.) We still had occasional visits (mostly Allyson visiting me although I did see her first house in Seattle) and infrequent letters. So I really didn’t know her in her professional life.
In reading through the tributes here and listening yesterday, I heard about many of Allyson’s attributes that I also recognized including her fierce devotion to friends, advocacy for minorities, and her impulse to be a caretaker. One thing that wasn’t mentioned is that Allyson knew how to be a good guest. She told me this had been taught to her by a family she was close to in her College of Idaho years. (I hope someone out there recognizes themselves!) During her last visit to my home, Allyson changed a light bulb, insisted on taking me out to breakfast plus paying the parking meter, and put clean sheets on the bed before she left.
Another thing others mentioned was a surprise to me. Allyson was a wonderful cook. So I thought I would share a memory involving cooking. For some reason I can’t recall, Allyson was over at my house (we were high schoolers) and she was going to teach me how to make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to make. I didn’t know how to make it because my household was of the convenience foods era - Tang, instant mashed potatoes, Shake ’n Bake chicken. Spaghetti as I knew it came in a Chef Boyardee box. The only thing I can remember from Allyson’s instruction was that spaghetti needs lots of spices. “Just look in your cupboard, see what you have, and put it in.” “Celery salt?”, I asked. “Yeah - put it in,” she replied.
For some reason, Allyson and I hardly ever spoke on the phone. But out of the blue, she called me for my birthday this year in early March. I actually had to call her back several days later since we didn’t connect at first. I caught her out doing errands, getting cat food. She was a bit stressed, and spoke of trying to keep COVID out of her household which included those who were vulnerable. I’m grateful for that last conversation, before her diagnosis.
My friend Terri introduced me to Allyson and it was Terri who called to tell me she had died. I’d had a plan, never shared, that when we were all fully retired the three of us high school friends would begin a regular series of get togethers. There was no real reason that this had to wait for retirement. So it is a reminder for me that memories should be made whenever there is the opportunity. I think Allyson did that and lived very fully. I will miss her.
It's the day after Allyson's beautiful memorial service. I dreamed about Allyson last night, and I'm thinking about her today, wishing I had been brave enough to speak to honor her during the memorial.
I was high school friends with Allyson in Missoula, Montana and probably had met her in elementary school through our good friend Terri who was her classmate. Allyson and I kept in touch through letters and her return visits home during our undergrad years, ad through letters abad exchanged cassette tapes (those have got to be somewhere in my basement!) during her Peace Corps years. In our adult/career years we lived half a continent apart. We still had occasional visits (mostly Allyson visiting me although I did see her first house in Seattle) and infrequent letters. So I really didn't know her in her professional life.
In through the tributes here and listening yesterday, I heard about many of Allyson's attributes that a I also recognized including her fierce devotion to friends, advocacy for minorities, and her impulse to be a caretaker. One thing that wasn't mentioned is that Allyson knew how to be a good guest. She told me this had been taught her by a family she was close to in her College of Idaho years. (I hope someone out there recognizes themselves!) During her last visit to my home, Allyson changed a light bulb, insisted on taking me out to breakfast plus paying the parking meter, and put clean sheets on the bed before she left.
Another thing others mentioned was a surprise to me. Allyson was a wonderful cook. So I thought I would share a memory involving cooking. For some reason I can't recall, Allyson was over at my house (we were high schoolers) and she was going to teach me how to make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to make. I didn't know how to make it because my household was of the convenience foods era - Tang, instant mashed potatoes, Shake'n Bake chicken. Spaghetti as I knew it came in a Chef Boyardee box. The only thing I can remember from Allyson's instruction was that spaghetti needs lots of spices. "Just look in your cupboard, see what you have, and put it in." "Celery salt?", I asked. "Yeah - put it in," she replied.
For some reason, Allyson and I hardly ever spoke on the phone. But out of the blue, she called me for my birthday this year in early March. I actually had to call her back several days later since we didn't connect at first. I caught her out doing errands, buying cat food. She was a bit stressed, and spoke of trying to keep COVID out of her household which included those who were vulnerable. I'm grateful for that last conversation, before her diagnosis.
My friend Terri introduced me to Allyson Aad it was Terri who called to tell me she had died. I'd had a lean, never shared, that when we were all fully retired the three of us high school friends would begin a regular series of get togethers. There was no real reason that this had to wait for retirement. So it is a reminder for me to make memories when there is the opportunity. I think Allyson did that and lived very fully. I will miss her.