Corinne Heath
October 28, 1948 - February 11, 2018

"Sweet Corinne, we are eternally grateful."

"Corinne was definitely missed and thought of at our 50th Visitation Academy Reunion this fall. We wondered why she didn't attend. Her Valedictory Speech & her Obituary speak of someone wise beyond her years, talented and accomplished. May Corinne's family and friends find comfort in warm and loving memories. Sincerely, Kathryn Donahoe Lawlor"

"Ed, Eric, Sandy and Jake, My heart is saddened to hear the news of Corinne. She truly was a special person. My mom loved the fact that she was my best friend in grade school. My mom thought maybe some of her "smarts" would rub off on me! My thoughts and prayers are with you all."

"I worked with Corinne as a young dancer in the 1970's, it was a highlight for me from the time that I danced while young. I stopped dancing, but continued a Yoga practice my whole life and retired from an IT career. Corinne was the best in terms of creativity in dance and just a person to be around... I want to say to her family - from someone you don't know - my prayers are with you all. Karen Krause (Peterson)"

"We were greatly saddened to hear of Corinne's passing. Unfortunately we lost touch with her and thought you had moved away from Madison. She was an asset to our studio and dance in Madison. Love, Bess and Tibor Zana"

"Quiet, unassuming, brilliant Corrine was valedictorian of our high school class. I leave you with her breathtaking 18 year old wisdom: VALEDICTORY SPEECH by CORINNE HEATH Class, 1967 Academy of the Visitation 3020 N. Ballas Road St. Louis, Missouri Now we have shed the fear and retain the wonder, Slowly the unknown, under our questioning eyes, yields up its secrets and reveals new shapes, new worlds, new possibilities. We go out like children, into the vastness of space and bring back news . . . To pull the blinds of habit from the eyes, to see the world without names of the first bright time, to wander through its mystery, to wonder at every age and stage, at one with it - to be alive! That was a quote from one of my most treasured books, which is appropriately entitled, To Be Alive. If there is one word that describes the Class of 1967, it is-alive. Alive to The Four Tops and Peter, Paul and Mary; to dates and telephones; to projects; to people-alive to being young. In fact, we are part of that well publicized group, Time's Man of the Year-The Youth of America. But we have been called other things. From all corners comes the resounding ring of rebellion, and people call us rebels. We're seen working in the inner city, and people call us the New Breed. We're caught laughing and acting as if there isn't a tomorrow, and people call us crazy kids. They throw up their hands in despair and say they can't understand us, and we throw up our hands and say we're not understood. And what they're afraid to find out, and we're afraid to tell them, is the secret that our rebellion, intense concern, and good times are only the outer covering. Deep down is the same confusion and fear which the adult world handles by resignation, secondary concern, and cocktail parties. The time before sleep is the soul-searching time for us. It is the time when we can run no longer, when the darkness encloses us, presses around, and pries off the outer covering. Simon and Garfunkel, two new poets-in-song for our generation, have described what is found when there is only the darkness and ourselves . . . Through the hard doors of sleep, past shadows dark and deep, My mind dances and leaps in confusion. I don't know what is real, I can't touch what I feel. And I hide behind the shield of my illusions. The mirror on my wall casts an image dark and small, But I'm not sure at all it's my reflection. I'm blinded by the light of God and truth and right, And I wander in the night without direction. And soon my fantasy becomes reality, And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow. But it would be unfair to say that our life is only concerned with the problems and doubts of today, for "young men shall see visions". But the vision of youth is expressed in strange ways: a stand-up, a sit-in, a walk-out. The expression of our vision is always action, for we are the greatest activists in the world. Sometimes we do not take the time to examine our actions in the light of our vision, and they fall short of our high expectations. We expect to be free, perhaps without knowing the responsibilities of freedom. We wish to express ourselves, perhaps without knowing the language of the world. We demand the freedom to be creative, to fashion a new world to our standards of right and wrong. What we sometimes don't realize is that creativity is an end product. It is achieved through individuality. We have trouble being individuals because we are group-conscious and group-motivated, and the restraint of the group can be a suffocating thing. We realize our interdependence and our vast need for others. Sometimes these ties of mutual acceptance turn into conformity, and our vision is lost in the smog of sameness. With this smog to protect, we shout out our warnings to the world. Our freedom within the group is almost unlimited and sometimes shocking, but it's like being free to turn around in a sardine can. Freedom turns into group restrictions; creativity into conformity: Our vision is lost. To be free and creative we must be honest with ourselves. To be honest, we must be alone. But we are afraid to be people alone, crying in a wilderness of our own ideas. We are afraid to be prophets, because prophets were always lonely people. And we know what it's like to walk into a room and have our smile returned by no one: cut-off, vulnerable, cold, panicky-alone. So we drown ourselves with noise and people and activities and try very hard not to meet ourselves face to face in the darkness. Without this self-discovery there can be no identity, no individuality, no freedom, no creativity. Self-discovery isn't a sudden occurrence. Identity comes bit by bit. Our lives are a series of struggles in which we either succeed or fail. But this is not the important thing. What is important is that we gain knowledge of ourselves and our world. Identity, then, comes out our daily response to life. If this response is to be free and creative, we must have a sense of who we are - an identity. From this will come our singular way of seeing things - our individuality. Then, by taking what we see and seeking truth and reality, we show our insights to our fellow men. We are then expressing our creativity. Without this process there would be no great art, no great literature, no great music and, particularly, no great people. In the end, freedom for us must be the choice, either to escape the responsibility of reality, or be vulnerable to a world which we did not make, but which we will try to remake in a new image. And when we have made the choice to be vulnerable, which is the choice of an adult, we must say good-bye to the warm blanket of childhood, to easy decisions and endless play. We have left our childhood somewhere between and the halls of Viz, ringing and dancing in fear and wonder and questioning and newness. Yet the love and friendship of that childhood remains with us, with this one distinction. We have tried to shed the fear and yet retain the wonder. Slowly under our questioning eyes the unknown has yielded up its secrets and revealed new shapes, new worlds, new possibilities for us. We go out of Viz today like children, and yet very much like adults, to bring the news that, as adults, we will pull the blinds of habit from the eyes and see the world without names for the first bright time, wander through all its mystery, wonder at every age and stage we find ourselves, at one with it. For that's what it means to us - to be alive."

"Quiet, unassuming, brilliant Corrine was valedictorian of our Visitation Academy senior class. I leave you with her 18 year old wisdom: VALEDICTORY SPEECH by CORINNE HEATH Class, 1967 Academy of the Visitation 3020 N. Ballas Road St. Louis, Missouri Now we have shed the fear and retain the wonder, Slowly the unknown, under our questioning eyes, yields up its secrets and reveals new shapes, new worlds, new possibilities. We go out like children, into the vastness of space and bring back news . . . To pull the blinds of habit from the eyes, to see the world without names of the first bright time, to wander through its mystery, to wonder at every age and stage, at one with it - to be alive! That was a quote from one of my most treasured books, which is appropriately entitled, To Be Alive. If there is one word that describes the Class of 1967, it is-alive. Alive to The Four Tops and Peter, Paul and Mary; to dates and telephones; to projects; to people-alive to being young. In fact, we are part of that well publicized group, Time's Man of the Year-The Youth of America. But we have been called other things. From all corners comes the resounding ring of rebellion, and people call us rebels. We're seen working in the inner city, and people call us the New Breed. We're caught laughing and acting as if there isn't a tomorrow, and people call us crazy kids. They throw up their hands in despair and say they can't understand us, and we throw up our hands and say we're not understood. And what they're afraid to find out, and we're afraid to tell them, is the secret that our rebellion, intense concern, and good times are only the outer covering. Deep down is the same confusion and fear which the adult world handles by resignation, secondary concern, and cocktail parties. The time before sleep is the soul-searching time for us. It is the time when we can run no longer, when the darkness encloses us, presses around, and pries off the outer covering. Simon and Garfunkel, two new poets-in-song for our generation, have described what is found when there is only the darkness and ourselves . . . Through the hard doors of sleep, past shadows dark and deep, My mind dances and leaps in confusion. I don't know what is real, I can't touch what I feel. And I hide behind the shield of my illusions. The mirror on my wall casts an image dark and small, But I'm not sure at all it's my reflection. I'm blinded by the light of God and truth and right, And I wander in the night without direction. And soon my fantasy becomes reality, And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow. But it would be unfair to say that our life is only concerned with the problems and doubts of today, for "young men shall see visions". But the vision of youth is expressed in strange ways: a stand-up, a sit-in, a walk-out. The expression of our vision is always action, for we are the greatest activists in the world. Sometimes we do not take the time to examine our actions in the light of our vision, and they fall short of our high expectations. We expect to be free, perhaps without knowing the responsibilities of freedom. We wish to express ourselves, perhaps without knowing the language of the world. We demand the freedom to be creative, to fashion a new world to our standards of right and wrong. What we sometimes don't realize is that creativity is an end product. It is achieved through individuality. We have trouble being individuals because we are group-conscious and group-motivated, and the restraint of the group can be a suffocating thing. We realize our interdependence and our vast need for others. Sometimes these ties of mutual acceptance turn into conformity, and our vision is lost in the smog of sameness. With this smog to protect, we shout out our warnings to the world. Our freedom within the group is almost unlimited and sometimes shocking, but it's like being free to turn around in a sardine can. Freedom turns into group restrictions; creativity into conformity: Our vision is lost. To be free and creative we must be honest with ourselves. To be honest, we must be alone. But we are afraid to be people alone, crying in a wilderness of our own ideas. We are afraid to be prophets, because prophets were always lonely people. And we know what it's like to walk into a room and have our smile returned by no one: cut-off, vulnerable, cold, panicky-alone. So we drown ourselves with noise and people and activities and try very hard not to meet ourselves face to face in the darkness. Without this self-discovery there can be no identity, no individuality, no freedom, no creativity. Self-discovery isn't a sudden occurrence. Identity comes bit by bit. Our lives are a series of struggles in which we either succeed or fail. But this is not the important thing. What is important is that we gain knowledge of ourselves and our world. Identity, then, comes out our daily response to life. If this response is to be free and creative, we must have a sense of who we are - an identity. From this will come our singular way of seeing things - our individuality. Then, by taking what we see and seeking truth and reality, we show our insights to our fellow men. We are then expressing our creativity. Without this process there would be no great art, no great literature, no great music and, particularly, no great people. In the end, freedom for us must be the choice, either to escape the responsibility of reality, or be vulnerable to a world which we did not make, but which we will try to remake in a new image. And when we have made the choice to be vulnerable, which is the choice of an adult, we must say good-bye to the warm blanket of childhood, to easy decisions and endless play. We have left our childhood somewhere between and the halls of Viz, ringing and dancing in fear and wonder and questioning and newness. Yet the love and friendship of that childhood remains with us, with this one distinction. We have tried to shed the fear and yet retain the wonder. Slowly under our questioning eyes the unknown has yielded up its secrets and revealed new shapes, new worlds, new possibilities for us. We go out of Viz today like children, and yet very much like adults, to bring the news that, as adults, we will pull the blinds of habit from the eyes and see the world without names for the first bright time, wander through all its mystery, wonder at every age and stage we find ourselves, at one with it. For that's what it means to us - to be alive."