Class: 1963
Major: Government, Psychology
Deceased: August 1, 2004
Alumni survivors: Judith H. Batson ’59 P82 W59 (Sibling-in-law), Mr. Bruce P. Hanna ’66 (Sibling-in-law), Mr. Quinn W. Batson ’82 (Nephew)
A remembrance by Joe Braucher
Paul was one of the first people I met at Carleton. As we were both thinking about being econ majors, we had Prof. Vatter as our adviser. We saw him at the same time, which was rather late in the day. First, the good news: K.O. May math and the chem-phys classes were full. We subsequently learned this was not such a terrible thing. The bad news: French 101 and Ada’s econ 101 were still open. Somehow Dr. Vatter also got us in an English course for students who had exempted rhetoric. That was not us! So we had three classes together. Soon after, some basic problems in foreign language began to emerge. One consequence was that our campus greeting to each other changed from “hi” to “VITE! VITE!” We did make it through, although Paul shifted out of econ as a major.
Paul was also with me the first time I was seriously “overserved” but that’s another story.
I lost track of him after graduation, but read that his hobbies included writing jokes for the likes of Phyllis Diller and Joan Rivers. This I believe. He had a wonderful sense of humor.
A remembrance by Hugh Cameron
Paul was an early and dear friend. We spent Friday nights together our frosh year cruising the campus, cursing the language requirement, and discussing our lack of results meeting ladies.
Paul had a skilled sense of humor back in 1959 which he used in later years to create on-air jokes for the likes of Phyllis Diller, Joan Rivers, and Jay Leno, and he was doing this when we last spoke a few years ago. If his material was used on air he received $35 each time —not bad, seeing that he honed his skill with me for free, or maybe splitting a warm Grain Belt.
Each year when school ended I drove him home to Wayzata, where his warm wonderful mom put me up and had great late snacks and breakfast. Several times, Paul and I grabbed a boat and motor and explored northern Minnesota lakes and rivers, cooked over a campfire, and talked endlessly under starry skies until sleep interfered.
Paul and I corresponded whilst I was at law school and he was in the Peace Corps in Jamaica. I wish I had his letters, as they were classic: describing the seamy side of Jamaica and the unhappiness of the volunteers working underappreciated in the rain.
Paul left this life too soon, and it makes me teary to remember this highly intelligent and caring friend.
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