Stanford lost a fan

From Harriet Benson:

Janice Kohout, aka Aunt Jean

(1914 - 2011)

Most of the Stanford fans who traveled to Eugene to see us play against the University of Oregon got to see my Aunt Jean--see, but not talk to since she was profoundly deaf and could only understand if you wrote your message. She retained all her other faculties though, and read avidly, followed news and sports, and was a sharp bridge player.

Seeing Aunt Jean was a treat. She knit most of the sweaters she wore, and then color coordinated the sweater with her shoes, earrings, and necklace or pin--every day. When she came with me to a Stanford game, she wore cardinal or white, even though I suspect that deep inside she had some loyalty to the Ducks after living in Eugene for 27 years.

Watching games at Mac Court were difficult for us. Not only was the on-the-street parking a nightmare for healthy attendees, Aunt Jean's artificial knees and general wobbliness made handicap parking a must, and it was a scarce commodity around Mac Court. Even if you arrived 1-1/2 hours before the game, the parking would be gone. I would then need to leave her on the sidewalk to wait for me in the cold while I searched for a parking place and made it back to the arena.

Her deafness was an advantage during loud cheering and band outbursts. When I first began to take her to games, she still wore hearing aids that she turned off. During later years she just didn't hear.

One year at Mac Court our boosters were sold supposedly good tickets. Aunt Jean and I labored up two steep ramps, very slowly. She was brave to keep going and very tired when we finally got to our seats. So much for good seats. Then to add insult, an assistant belatedly arrived waving tickets for better seats much lower down. Although other boosters leaped at the opportunity to sit in the better seats, Aunt Jean didn't have the energy to move. I learned after that to take ticket purchase in my own hands.

The new Matt Arena was a different problem. I had phoned the ticket office before last season to purchase the best handicapped seats possible. Parking was better, but inside was a disaster: although the ticket office has assured me of convenient handicap seats, the ushers initially couldn't even direct us to the assigned seats. Then, after going up and down the elevator twice and walking (with her walker) completely around the arena, we discovered the seats down several rows--seats that were totally impossible for her to get to, and even dangerous to try (no handrails!). Aunt Jean finally took the matter in hand and just sat, exhausted. She refused to move even though the seats were sold to others.

By the way, her opinion of the Matt Arena basketball floor? "I've been all over Oregon, and I've never seen any trees that look like that."

Her support for Stanford basketball extended beyond games in Eugene. We went to a couple in Corvallis, and during every basketball season, I alerted her to the Stanford games she could see on TV. I still have her disappointed fax to me after the Texas A&M game last April.

Despite all the difficulties in attending games, Aunt Jean was planning to join me at the next game in February on her 98th birthday. I'll miss you, Aunt Jean.

(photo by Don Anderson)