Just back from a very interesting visit with Marion Leathers Kuntz. I went with Anita and Mary Sydney. Dr. Kuntz lives off Ponce de Leon and her house was on the tour of homes in Druid Hills. I was supposed to be a docent for her house, but had jury duty for a murder trial in DeKalb County, so had to bow out. Anita and Mary Sydney were docents, and enjoyed meeting Dr. Kuntz and arranged to go back for a visit. They invited me to go, too.
We took a bottle of nice Italian wine and some appetizers and arrived about 3:30. She is in her 80’s, and truly brilliant and amazing. She was dressed in a lavender blouse and purple skirt,
with gold high heels and lots of jewelry. She has an apartment in Venice where she researches manuscripts for her next book. She has written several books and has taught classes as recently as 2 years ago at Georgia State (as well as other colleges). If you google her, you will see all of the books she has written. She is a Latin scholar and has translated books written in the 1500’s. I don’t know how many degrees she has, but she has plenty! I could not find anything about her on Wickipedia, and that is curious. She adores her 2 sons and 2 grandsons. She also has 3 granddaughters and truly enjoys all of her family. She can only stay in Venice for 2 months at a time so that she can come home to be with her family for a month in between each visit.
Dr. Kuntz seemed to enjoy our visit very much. We did not leave there until 7 p.m. as she was reading parts of her latest book to us and showing us the illustrations. Her house is a showcase with wonderful collectibles and umpteen sets of china. I’ll post a picture or two of our visit.
What fun! We plan to go back in August when she returns from Venice. She insisted!
She must floss her teeth. I heard you add years to your life if you floss. I bet it helps maintain brain cells too.
Were you at Marion’s funeral Wednesday? Here’s an entry I made in the guest book of the AJC obituaries:
Although it was after dark some years ago, my mother and father and I stopped by Marion’s house on Ponce de Leon. She was not expecting us, and my mother thought it was too late to call. I assured my parents that Marion would be receiving. Well, she was certainly more than DRESSED for receiving! (If not, in fact, as Mother suspected, actually on her way out to some fancy gala… But she wasn’t.) Marion was, as ever, the completely gracious hostess, inviting us all in. After chatting a while, I asked her to show my parents her basement study, with all its old books and documents — and piles of xeroxes of even older books and documents. We climbed down there. Marion was about mid-way through writing one of her scholarly volumes. “Show us some of your work, Marion,” I requested. She made my mother take her good chair while Marion stood up and began translating. My father, Marion’s cousin, looked on, too. “Now, this, Sarah,” she began, leaning over the large page, “is Latin.” She read it and translated it. “Now, this, Sarah, is Greek.” Marion read it aloud then translated that into English. “Now, this, Sarah, is Hebrew, so we have to jump to the end and read backwards to the left” (which she did, along with a clear and enlightening translation). “Now, Sarah, here we are back to Latin.” Following that, Marion gave us a short idea of the thrust of the text on that page — and where the whole enterprise was heading. “My, my,” cooed my mother. My father shook his head. We left the desk and turned to climb the fairly steep stairs back to the main floor. Half-way up, Marion halted quickly, pointing off excitedly to her left. We all peered towards the fairly dim wall. “That’s my Maytag over there,” Marion announced proudly. She turned to look at all three of us. “I just love doing wash!” I echo my mother: “My, my!” Has there ever been — or will there ever be — the likes of Marion Leathers Kuntz? I doubt it. I will miss her so much!
I was a student at Georgia State University in the 1970’s. Was saddened to hear she had died. She seemed so much larger than life. Truly an amazing, gifted, gracious woman.
Deborah,
Thank you for letting me know that she has died. I had no idea. We never did get back to visit her, but the one visit is a very nice memory.