Deceased 7/7/2021
Jennifer and I were Carleton roommates our sophomore and junior years. We lived in Evans. Jennifer’s outgoing and vibrant personality complemented my quiet nature. We made the perfect roommates. After college, she remained my steadfast and caring friend, who always took the initiative to stay in touch. I’ll miss her out-of-the blue phone calls. When I was unable to answer, she’d leave me long voicemails. Her calls would often come near midnight because she’d forget she lived on the West Coast, and I lived on the East Coast.
In 2000, my son Phillip and his college roommate moved on a whim to Los Angeles. Jennifer watched over him and helped him adjust to his new city. She began to claim Phillip as her son, too. I was more than happy to share him with this “other mother.” I saw Jennifer often when visiting Phillip and his family. She almost always wanted to take me to a play. Jennifer loved the theater. My last time there for Thanksgiving, she and her mother joined us for this holiday meal. Jennifer didn’t cook, but she relished good food.
In 1996, when I asked her to join me for the first MCAN Gathering on campus, she didn’t hesitate to agree. From then on, I could count on her to say “Yes” each time I asked her to attend a Carleton event with me. We traveled to Northfield for the other MCAN Gatherings, trekked to a Minnesota campground for a Women of Color retreat, and had a ball at our 45th reunion. A mutual friend told me that Jennifer said I forced her to join the 50th Reunion Committee. I don’t think I forced her. I probably just told her she was going to be on the committee with me. The last time I saw Jennifer was when the reunion committee met in Englewood, so if I forced her, I’m glad I did. She always supported me, and she always showed up. I’m so grateful for her friendship.
A favorite Jennifer story happened one night at a Los Angeles club. We were celebrating the 50th birthday of my sister-in-law. When the male singer finished some Motown songs, he asked if anyone in the audience would like the mike. I kept pointing at Jennifer. He finally gave her his mike. The music for Smokey Robinson’s “Ooo Baby Baby” began, and Jennifer started to sing. She turned the club out. Everyone sat astonished, including me, because I had never heard her sing solo before. At Carleton, I had only listened to her as part of a choir. I bet the performer that night never offered his mike again.
I found Jennifer’s devotion to her mother a marvel to observe and an inspiration. I know Ms. Rambo will miss her dear daughter, and I’ll miss my dear friend.
-Diane Hinton Perry ’70
Click here to read Jennifer’s story that she wrote for our Class Story Book.
Add a comment