Tea-Time Crime

Every Wednesday at 3, musical activities at Curtis come to a halt and the common room is transformed into a tea parlor. Within a few minutes, the room fills with students, faculty and guests. For four years, it was a sure source of fresh fruit for all of us who were too lazy to buy groceries. Serving tea was the Director’s wife, Naomi Graffman. This tradition goes back all the way to the school’s opening in 1924, when that Director’s wife (and Curtis founder) Mary Louise Curtis Bok Zimbalist served. As always, Mrs. Graffman’s question was, “strong, weak or medium?” Many of us would stay there in the packed common room until they collected the tea cups and saucers, often an hour later. It was a welcome respite from the rigors of the week.

As I said above, the room was always packed, and some jostling was inevitable. One day during tea, I felt a poke in my lower back which had to have been intentional. I turned around, and at first saw no one. Then I realized that Mr. Galimir was indeed behind me, but had compacted himself further by crouching! He looked up with an evil grin, and said very deliberately, “Knife--in your--back!”