Sun-Chaser: Marvin J. Vann, an American Life

From Dreams to Reality

Among those who imagined a planetarium to follow from the successful observatory project, perhaps only Marvin had a reasonably clear idea of the difficulties achieving that dream would pose. In the first place, the Palo Alto Neighbors Abroad membership understandably felt they had performed heroically. Neither Marvin nor the organization's president, Ray Rupple, were sure they could sell another, and as they knew, a much more ambitious project. They themselves felt sure, nonetheless, that the observatory had been well worth the effort, and they were privately convinced a planetarium would be too.

Before, however, they had finished organizing their sales campaign, the members of the Palo Alto Neighbors Abroad chapter discovered that they had won their parent organization's national Best Project Award for their contributions to the observatory. This of course made Marv and Ray's sales' job easier. Ray Rupple's term as president expired, and his successor, Paul Cardoza, who owned a successful agency, "Adventure Travel," also shared Marvin's enthusiasm for the planetarium project. The success of the observatory project predisposed the membership to approve a feasibility study and, given feasibility, to undertake the project.

Paul opened negotiations with the Oaxacan chapter of Neighbors Abroad. They agreed to accept responsibility for seeing through the construction of a star-projection chamber, if the Palo Alto chapter would accept responsi- Page  146bility for acquiring a star projector. With perfect insouciance, Paul agreed to this and appointed Marvin the coordinator of the project.

The Foothill Planetarium had a chamber with a 30-foot dome, a bit smaller than the size of the dome proposed for Oaxaca. Foothill also owned a Goto (rhymes with "so-so") Venus star projector that, after certain modifications Marvin made to the dome, would support a 360 degree peripheral star panorama whose images were cast by 12 linked slide projectors. In the manager's capacity, Marv ran the planetarium's programming and was expected to attend conferences to keep current with developments in the field. These conferences, Marv remembers, were ideal places to learn of the availability of used projectors.

"We would necessarily have to recondition a used projector for our gift to Oaxaca," Marvin recalls, "since a new one big enough to project on their forty-foot dome would cost $125,000—and, remember, that was in 1974 dollars!"

At one of the conferences, in response to Marvin's queries, a participant offered Marvin a used star projector, the smallest made, for $6000. Marvin turned her down, thinking that such a projector would be a disappointment for the Oaxacans. Another participant, however, told Marvin that Olivet Nazarene College in Kankakee, Illinois, had a non-working Goto Mars projector in a warehouse. Olivet Nazarene had never been able to get the projector to work, and a donor had given them a new one for their planetarium.

Back in Los Altos, Marv read up on the specs for this machine and discovered that, at just one size up from his projector at Foothill, it would be ideal for Oaxaca. In November of 1974, Marv contacted Olivet Nazarene, made an appointment with their planetarium director, and on a detour from a family wedding trip in Birmingham, Alabama, went to Kankakee. He flew to Chicago, rented a car and drove through ice and snow to his appointment.

On Marvin's arrival the responsible administrator received him courteously, took him to the planetarium and demonstrated the new projector. Marv was, he said, the first person to enquire about their non-functioning instrument, and they hadn't ever considered selling it. They went to a storage shed to view it. Except for some nascent rust on the journal ends, Page  147which no one had thought to protect, the instrument appeared to Marvin to be in perfect condition.

"It never worked," his host assured him.

"What seemed to be wrong?" Marvin asked.

"All we could get it to do was make little doughnuts on the dome," his host answered.

This is not the first time we've compared Marvin to Odysseus. Like the old Greek traveler, Marvin is wily. When he heard the symptom described, he knew immediately that there was nothing wrong with the projector, only with the people trying to operate it. They didn't know how to focus the star projection lenses. He saw no reason, however, to communicate this knowledge. Instead, he explained the Neighbors Abroad project, and opined that perhaps he could refurbish the machine so it worked—if not altogether properly, at least satisfactorily. He also hoped that the board might consider selling the projector.

Fig. 9-1

A Goto projector with supporting equipment.

In anticipation of such an outcome, the administrator had scheduled a meeting that afternoon. He invited Marvin to address the board. Marv gave a short slide presentation about the successful outcomes of the observatory Page  148project in Oaxaca and explained the new project. He was briefly excused from the room, and then called back. The board would, they said, be glad to be a part of such a worthy project and would sell the machine for $12,000. Marvin replied that he had been authorized to offer no more than $10,000, but that he would personally add to that offer a solar prominence telescope of his own manufacture to round out the capabilities of the observatory at Olivet Nazarene College if the board could see its way clear to accepting his counter offer.

Very pleased, the board accepted without further discussion. Marvin wrote a check, a paper assigning title of a solar prominence telescope to the college, and another conveying ownership of the Goto projector to Neighbors Abroad of Palo Alto. Technically, the wily Marvin had acted entirely on his own with no authorization from Neighbors Abroad. Predictably, however, since he had acquired a $125,000 machine for a fraction of its value, Paul gave him instant ex post facto approval and a promise of reimbursement.

"You are, after all, the project coordinator," Paul said. "We'll raise this money and a whole lot more, all we need to make this project happen!"

And of course they did. Trans-World Airways also owed Paul a favor, so they transported the projector to San Jose Airport and had it delivered to Marvin's garage. As Marvin had predicted, all the machine needed was a few hours spent removing rust from the journals, loosening the lock rings, rotating the projection lenses into focus, re-tightening the lock rings, and tracing the electrical circuits and preparing a schematic of them to help in the machine's eventual installation in Oaxaca. That done, the projector worked better than new. To assist him in preparing the electrical schematic, Marvin recruited engineer and inventor Roger Dorr, and a close friend and technician at Foothill, Peter Geist. Both became so interested in the project that, when the time eventually came, they accepted Marv's invitation to help install the machine in Mexico. Moreover, the three excitedly first imagined and then built embellishments for the system. One was a four-channel sound system that allowed for stereo, voice, overlay, and a cue system that operated simultaneously. The other, based on Marv's innovations at Foothill, was a twelve-projector panorama system with a choice of eighty different panoramas, a system that Pete Geist enthusiastically built.

Back in Oaxaca, however, things were not proceeding quite so smoothly. Paul Cardoza's opposite number in the Neighbors Abroad program, still Carlos Hamilton, did not seem to be moving the project forward with the same dispatch and enthusiasm as the Palo Alto folks displayed or indeed as Hamilton had done with the observatory project. Cardoza used his influence as a travel agent to get Marvin free air passes to go to Oaxaca to confer. Marvin recruited his longtime friend, Jorge Gonzales, and the two met with Carlos Hamilton.

Hamilton proposed several reasons why the planetarium project would be much more difficult than the observatory, perhaps impossible. Whereas only the mayor's blessing had been necessary for the civic project that produced the observatory, a much more ambitious planetarium would entail using Oaxacan state resources and the governor's active cooperation. Since the observatory had been built, moreover, a new governor, Manuel Zarate-Aquino, had taken office, and his support was far from certain. Much discussion of the project ensued.

Carlos Hamilton, Marvin felt, was dragging his feet for some reason. No site for a planetarium had been identified, and state participation in the project had not been assured. Marv suggested going directly to the new governor of Oaxaca, but Carlos offered several objections to this course of action. Strapped for time, Marvin insisted that they try to see the governor, and Carlos reluctantly capitulated.

Marvin was elated and Carlos appeared surprised by the ease with which the governor, who had two secretaries constantly clamoring for his attention, willingly made time for them. With Carlos in attendance and Jorge as interpreter, Marvin briefly laid out the proposal for the planetarium. Marvin noticed that governor Zarate-Aquino seemed keenly interested in anything having to do with astronomy. At the end of the presentation, the governor assured Marvin of his full cooperation with the project. Then Zarate-Aquino said, "I have a son in San Francisco working in research at the university there. You should meet him. His name is Renato Zarate." He noted his son's phone number and gave it to Marvin, who promised to call.

Pleased with the outcome of the meeting, Marvin and Jorge said farewell to the governor and Carlos. Then the two old friends went to El Farolito, a small, secluded restaurant with great food and greater margaritas. As Page  150they dined, Marvin broached the subject of Carlos' reluctance to meet the governor. Jorge guardedly replied that Carlos was jealous of authority and liked to be in control. Also, Jorge continued, Carlos didn't like the governor. Though Marvin tactfully decided not to pursue the issue further, he subsequently came to suspect that Governor Zarate-Aquino wished to break up Carlos' large real estate holdings for the benefit of Oaxaca's poor. Nonetheless, Carlos was president of the Neighbors Abroad chapter, and Marvin's naval training had convinced him of the utility of a clear chain of command. He therefore regularly included Carlos in the loop and faithfully kept him informed of all developments.

Back again in California, Marvin followed up on his promise to call Renato Zarate. Like his father, young Zarate was a full-blooded Zapotec Indian. Already an M.D., he was studying epidemiology on a grant in San Francisco. Moreover, like Marvin, Zarate was an enthusiastic amateur astronomer.

"I've been expecting your call," he said. "I've visited the observatory in Oaxaca several times and have met with Dr. Mares, the director."

Renato continued, reporting that his father had been most favorably impressed, and was waiting to hear further from Marvin. On his side, Marvin hoped that the next time he went to Oaxaca, Renato could attend the meeting with his father. Renato shook his head.

"That's unlikely, Marvin," he said, "I'm far too busy to travel. Don't worry, though, I'll be talking with my father. He listens to me, so I'll be at your meeting in spirit."

"How true, that proved to be!" remembers Marvin.

Shortly thereafter, Marvin returned to Oaxaca to make final arrangements for the construction of the planetarium. On arrival, he found that no site had yet been secured or even selected. Marvin raised the issue with Carlos Hamilton. Hamilton's suggestions were limited to sites that were available for purchase at what struck Marvin and his friend Jorge as inflated prices.

"Let's ask the governor for his preferences and suggestions," Marvin proposed. Hamilton once again trotted out his list of objections—excuses, as Marvin now thought. The governor was too busy. He wouldn't grant them another interview.

"I can see him," Marvin assured Carlos. Carlos shrugged dismissively.

At that point Marvin decided that including Carlos further would hinder more than help the project. He made his appointment, and this time the conference with Governor Manuel Zarate-Aquino included only Marv himself, Jorge Gonzales, and the project architect Raphael Ballestreros, who had also designed the observatory.

The governor proved even more welcoming than before. He and his son Renato had had a long talk, he reported, about the project. In the course of that discussion, the governor had learned that Marvin was the project coordinator, a fact that Marvin had modestly omitted at their last meeting. Any time Marvin needed anything, the Governor assured him, he had a direct line to the Governor's office.

Fig. 9-2

Governor Zarate-Aquino, Marv, and Ballestreros.(Jorge Gonzales)

Marvin brought up the subject of the site. The governor asked where Marvin would like to build the planetarium. Of course, Marvin had given that subject some thought, and he replied that near the observatory would be logical. After all, the site was just a mountaintop overgrown with brush. Looking levelly at Marvin, Governor Zarate-Aquino said, "I want you to go out today and select the site and tell me where it is. I'll make the necessary arrangements." Equipped with that carte blanche, Marvin went directly forth to do just what the governor had instructed.

Running along the side of El Fortin, the Pan-American Highway roughly marks out the northern boundary of Oaxaca. A scenic viewpoint overlooks the city, and directly across from it, the new road snakes up the mountain to Page  152the observatory. A short distance up that road, one finds a statue of Mexican hero Benito Juarez, his right arm extended and pointing north. Local wits have christened this statue, "Yankee, go home." Further up the road at that time, and not far from the observatory, stood a small building, a neglected monument to the flag of Mexico. The building was falling into disrepair and bore evidence of being used by drifters, vagabonds, and worse. The site on which it stood, however, was level, and in Marvin's view, an ideal place for the planetarium. He reported his choice to the governor.

The governor responded by instantly having the monument removed and authorizing construction of the planetarium to begin as soon as the final plans were drawn. Marvin later learned that the governor had suffered some political repercussions from this act. What Marvin hadn't realized was that the monument to the flag was a national one. When Marvin later expressed his regret, Raphael Ballestreros, the architect, told him, "Don't worry! No matter what a politician does, it draws flak from someone! The monument was just a dirty place where dirty people did dirty deeds. Good riddance!"

In the final plan, Raphael produced a chamber wall 50 feet in diameter supporting a 40-foot dome. A large foyer/exhibit hall ran half-way round the building, and continued round the other half, which was divided into offices, areas for electrical equipment, and other storage rooms. Because of the prohibitive cost of a metal dome, Raphael had opted for a smooth plaster one. This decision created something of an acoustical problem, but Marvin knew two retired experts in Palo Alto who could ameliorate the difficulty. One, Roger Dorr, was an expert in electrical systems and the other, Walter Smith, in the acoustical design of theaters.

The exterior of building, a large surrounding platform, and the great steps from the parking lot to the planetarium entrance were to be built of the famous Oaxaca green stone quarried a few miles away. Inside, simulated leather seats secured to cement crescents accommodated 120 persons. A carved stone pedestal in the center, ten feet in diameter and four feet high, would support the star projector. All around the perimeter of the pedestal were carved zodiacal images of the constellations, illuminated by a constantly changing light show. The entire planetarium plan was a class act. Construction began at once.

Fig. 9-3

Pedestal with star projector during light show.

Border Crossing and High Jinks

As construction went forward in Oaxaca, work on the console to operate the star projector and the auxiliary components described above continued in California. Under Marvin's practiced eye, tasks got finished as scheduled, and the instrument and its accessories were shipped via Mexicana Airlines and Paul Cardoza's good offices to Mexico City. There they were impounded in customs.

Anticipating this eventuality and concerned lest customs formalities—or irregularities—delay the anticipated two-week installation schedule, Marvin had arranged to travel with Jorge Gonzales and Governor Zarate-Aquino to Mexico City to retrieve the cargo. At the airport, the governor himself presented the necessary papers to the customs officers while Marvin and Jorge waited outside. They waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, a uniformed customs officer emerged and announced that they could not find the equipment.

Jorge whispered to Marvin, "They want pesos under the table."

Recalling this occasion—another occurrence of the leitmotif of "Marvin vs. the customs officers"—Marvin shakes his head.

"Here," he said, "was an international gift to the Mexican people that the governor of a Mexican state was picking up in person, and the customs officials still worked their scam!"

Governor Zarate-Aquino, however, appeared unconcerned. Perhaps he understood Mexican civil-service retirement systems better than Marvin. In any case, the Governor shelled out the requested "fee" for locating the merchandise. That accomplished, the boxes appeared.

"Were there," the custom's official next asked, "any motors in the boxes?"

The shipment in fact was crawling with motors. There were motors all over the star projector, and (unofficially) motors on a large sand filter that Marvin was bringing Jorge for the latter's projected swimming pool. Marvin, however, felt that the fee the governor had already disbursed should be considered payment in lieu of duty.

"Motors? Only activators on the instrument," Marvin hedged.

Marvin lucked out. Nodding solemnly, the official passed the shipment.

With the shipment officially in Mexico, Marvin and Jorge sent everything via local carrier to Oaxaca and had a good laugh together at El Farolito over the Mexican government's failure to consider "activators" dutiable.

When, however, they went two days later to the offices of their shipping company to get Jorge's filter, they discovered that the filter and everything else had once more been lost. This time, happily, it was truly just a mix-up, and after several hours they located everything safe and sound in a storage shed. Nonetheless, both felt chastened and moderated their hubris lest the gods have other unpleasant surprises in store for the over-confident.

By this time, the planetarium site had been graded, the foundations and floors poured, the outside walls and the chamber walls erected, and the scaffolding set up for construction of the concrete and plaster dome itself. A week saw the completion of this labor. Then it was time to bring in the star projector and begin the extensive wiring connecting the projector with its console at the north edge of the chamber. Roger Dorr and Pete Geist arrived to assist in this work. So did Fran Paz, a medical student whose husband was a friend of Renato Zarate. Taking her job very seriously, Fran Page  155interpreted for Marvin, whose Spanish, he regrets, never got far beyond the rudimentary.

In due course, the plaster dome was finished and, since the electricity was not yet hooked up, the inside became pitch black until some very long, thin, extension cords were run from outside. On one occasion, Marvin recalled, the workmen attached a 100-watt lamp to the extension cord. They needed the light so they could attach a skill saw. Marvin nudged Pete.

"Watch this," he said.

As soon as the workers started the saw, it overloaded the circuit, blew a fuse, and all went dark. Then, like a squadron of fireflies, flashlights went on. For some reason, everyone found this sequence of events uproariously funny.

After that, practical jokes became the order of the day. Marvin had brought with him an electric drill that ran off a battery pack. The workmen had never seen one before, and Marv took advantage of this. He pretended to need the drill on the floor of the structure, and left the charger and its short cord attached. He called for the extension cord, which he knew would not reach. Then he scratched his head and looked around in apparent confusion. He called one of the smaller workers over and regarded him appraisingly.

"No," he said, "you are too small." Then, addressing the largest of the workers, he called, "You, Francisco, would you come over?"

Francisco came, and Marvin gave him the unattached drill cord. "Put it in your mouth, please," he requested. Quizzically, Francisco started to oblige, but Marvin stopped him. "No, instead put it in the other end."

Realizing that Marvin was playing a trick of some kind, Francisco bent over and touched the drill's plug to his rump. The second he did so Marvin triggered his drill. Startled, Francisco jumped, and Marvin turned the drill off. The rest of the men exchanged looks of disbelief, and Marvin once more went through the charade before he explained to them that the drill was battery operated. Everyone laughed, and work waited as each man in turn tried out the drill. Before he left, Marvin made Francisco a present of the amusing tool.

During the course of the work, Governor Zarate-Aquino had thought it prudent to assign the visitors bodyguards. To Marvin he had assigned his personal driver and bodyguard, Jose Calderon. One day Jose fell asleep in the newly installed faux leather seats with his .45 automatic lying on Page  156the seat beside him. Marvin exchanged a hammer for the gun. When Jose awoke and missed his weapon, he was much chagrined.

Despite such high jinks—indeed, partly because of them—the work moved rapidly to completion. It was almost time for the delegation from Palo Alto to arrive for the dedication. Rather than rely exclusively on his own expertise with the star projector, Marvin had arranged for a friend from Denver who operated the same Goto Mars machine to do the final aligning. He wanted none of the technological glitches that so often plague even simple machinery.

A few gremlins nevertheless found their way into the planetarium. The transformer ran at 145 volts, causing everything to shine too brightly. The governor directed finding a new transformer, but the only one available provided power for a nearby small village. Just for the dedication ceremony (and much to the dismay of the village) the governor "borrowed" their transformer. To achieve a longer-term fix that restored the transformer to the villagers Marvin rigged a special limit stop on the variable transformer so it could only send out 90 volts, plenty for the planetarium's purposes and easier on the equipment.

The only other unanticipated problem arose from a television station and its broadcast tower that was located below the planetarium. The broadcast power was so great that the signal infiltrated the planetarium's tape channel and could be heard in the chamber. When the T. V. executives learned of this problem, they were so embarrassed they reduced the power of the signal and installed shielding. Gremlin number two chased.

The governor appointed a retired engineer named Bernardo Somoano as the first planetarium director, and Marvin undertook his training as well as that of his staff of four young men. Awkward at first with the equipment, all were eager to learn and improved as time went on. Following through on his commitment, Marvin continued writing the scripts for the shows and producing the graphics and slides for the first three years of the planetarium's existence.

After that time, the staff at last felt ready and began producing their own work. Although they lacked some equipment and never acquired truly professional facility with what they did have, Marvin was nevertheless Page  157satisfied that his trainees came to produce passable, sometimes ingenious, and always valuable programming.

The planetarium's dedication was a grand event. Governor Zarate-Aquino had invited some 200 political notables in addition to the local officials and the representatives of Neighbors Abroad from the two communities, this time including Carlos Hamilton. There was the usual speechifying and toasting and feasting and entertainment. There were tours and demonstrations of the facility. The most striking feature of the completed building, Marvin thinks, was the carving in green stone depicting astrological figures that local artisans had done around the base of the star projector. Marvin also recalls the huge and memorable final banquet at the historic Hotel Presidente in Oaxaca.

On his return to California, Marvin discovered that he had been nominated for and had in fact been awarded the State of California's "Creative Citizenship" award, whose certificate was signed by the then governor of the state, Ronald Reagan.

Over the years, Marvin continued to donate telescopes and planetarium equipment to communities and institutions of higher education. One solar prominence telescope went to The National Observatory of Mexico in Baja, California. Another Marvin gave to his own alma mater, Albion College, on the occasion of his being awarded its "Distinguished Alumnus" award. Later, after Marvin had retired, he and Ronnie gave a small Minolta Star Projector to the Planetarium at the University of Arizona for a special exhibit called "Night Skies." They had moved to Arizona on their retirement so Marvin could enjoy the advantage of the clear skies south of Tucson and keep chasing the sun and gazing at stars. His most recent and most generous act of astronomical largesse was the donation of his private observatory, telescopes and equipment to the retirement community in Green Valley, Arizona, where he and Ronnie now reside.

Marv's philanthropy toward non-U. S. entities threatened briefly to catch on a snag in the U. S. tax code. Marvin could not legally deduct gifts to charitable organizations whose home bases were outside the United States. Another regular beneficiary of Marvin's largesse, the Wycliffe Bible Translators, however, solved this problem. As they were a charitable organization chartered in the United States, Marvin could legally transfer title to them Page  158and still claim the deduction. The Wycliffites in turn, passed the title along to the eventual beneficiary.

Oaxaca One Last Time

Over the years, Marvin led more than 70 expeditions to various sites in the Mexican and Guatemalan jungles and to Mayan astronomical observatories. As his tourism business had flourished and his children grew up, he involved the kids as tour guides and managers, a task for which daughter Lindsay, especially, showed great flair. But as he passed his 70th birthday, Marvin realized that even his rugged constitution was increasingly affected by the strains of travel, particularly under the demanding conditions the rain forest imposed. He reluctantly admitted to himself that he would have to decide to make some journey in the fairly near future his last. The gods favored Marvin with an appropriate occasion for a final celebratory adventure.

In the summer of 1991, another total eclipse of the sun would occur, and this time, at Oaxaca, it would last for seven-and-a-half minutes. Fortuitously, the date closely coincided with Marvin and Ronnie's golden wedding anniversary, July 26. Marvin got busy and began advertising a guided excursion to Oaxaca to view the eclipse and enjoy the local ambience. The response was overwhelming; he finally had to cut off registrations at 100 people. Many more were disappointed.

Marvin flew to Oaxaca to set things up with his buddy, Jorge Gonzales. On arrival, he encountered a major problem. Twenty years before, Marvin had been among the pioneers of astronomical tourism. Now he discovered that the big companies had also smelled the scent of profit. Worse, the tour agencies had speculatively booked every hotel room in Oaxaca, including all the rooms in Jorge's hotel. Marvin and Jorge got their heads together. Both understood that in this instance business took precedence over friendship. Jorge explained that some of his bookings were provisional. If Marvin could pay cash up front, Jorge could accommodate Marvin's group in his best lodgings. Marvin also proposed that Jorge's hotel host a grand banquet for his travelers—an arrangement that would prove even more profitable for Jorge than the premium on the rooms.

The issue of lodging addressed, Marvin needed to secure a first-rate viewing site for his participants. He suggested Monte Alban, which had been Page  159the site of an ancient Indian observatory. Jorge felt sure he could make the necessary arrangements. Marvin also requested that Jorge try to arrange free access for his participants so that they wouldn't be nickled and dimed for access fees and permissions to photograph. Jorge again saw no problem. Marvin returned to California greatly pleased with his preparations.

When the day came, Marvin, Ronnie, Lindsay, Michel, Tim, and Barry shepherded their pilgrims aboard their aircraft, which flew without incident to Oaxaca. On the ground, however, Marvin found Jorge awaiting him with a defeated expression on his face.

"Marvin," he explained as soon as the two friends were alone, "it's terrible. Everyone has free access to Monte Alban—not just our group—everyone! The government has sponsored dancing and music and fake Aztec ceremonies! The place will be crawling with tourists."

Marvin smiled and put his arm around his friend's shoulders.

"But Jorge, don't worry! That's wonderful!"

Marv knew his tourists. Far from interfering with his group's good time, all the entertainment and the excitement of the enormous crowds that showed up to view the eclipse added to everyone's enjoyment of the occasion. The septuagenarian sun-chaser had pulled off another coup.

That evening, back at Jorge's hotel, the banquet for Marv's travelers also proved a great success. The revelers thanked Marv, Ronnie, and their children and went their separate ways. Michel, Barry, Tim, and Lindsay bid their parents good night, and Marvin said to Ronnie,

"Jorge has invited us to his home for after dinner drinks. Let's go over."

Ever game for a good time, Ronnie agreed.

Jorge had thoughtfully arranged for a chauffeured car to bring his guests to his home. So, a few minutes later, the driver stopped before a large iron gate, and pressed a bell. The gate swung open, admitting the guests to a courtyard.

"Jorge has been delayed," the driver explained. "He wants you to go right in and make yourselves at home, and he'll be here shortly."

Ronnie and Marv thanked him and crossed the dimly lit veranda to a front door standing slightly ajar. They pushed it open and entered a darkened room.

Instantly lights went on, a mariachi band struck up, and people began cheering "Happy Anniversary." Marvin and Jorge and the children, of course, had made all the arrangements to surprise Ronnie, including importing a case of champagne. Many of the participants in the Adventure Montage program, people who were the Vanns' friends from back in California, as well as their circle of acquaintance in Oaxaca were all cheering and congratulating them.

Marvin reveals a streak of chauvinism when he remembers this event. "I never thought we'd manage to keep the party a secret from Ronnie," he confided. "So many of the women were in on it." He also recalls that Jorge wouldn't let him pay for anything but the champagne he'd brought from California. It flowed late into the night.

"The hardest part of setting all this up," Marvin remembers, "was finding a minister in Oaxaca who would officiate at a ceremony where we renewed our wedding vows." With Jorge's help, however, this difficulty too was overcome, and, after fifty years of life together, Marvin and Ronnie again pledged their undying fidelity. That done, Marvin presented to his bride of fifty years the gift that he had specially commissioned for her: suspended from a golden chain was a pendant in beaten gold, an Aztec solar calendar.