By Kirstin Fawcett (AGI27) | October 17, 2025

St. John’s College fosters a unique common bond—one perhaps best exemplified by Bob Tzudiker’s (A75) anecdote of a fellow alum’s comical exchange with Public Safety at Annapolis croquet. The Johnnie, a member of the Class of 1970 according to Tzudiker, had arrived outside the post-game waltz in McDowell Hall but was flagged as a potential interloper: “He was stopped by a security guard who said, ‘I’m sorry, this is for the St. John’s community only,’” Tzudiker shared in a recent video call joined by friends and classmates Jim Jarvis (A75) and Matthew DeBacker (A75). “He said, ‘Well, I’m an alumnus.’ And the guard looked at him suspiciously and said, ‘What is a point?’ To which he responded, ‘That which has no beginning and no end.’ That was it. The door was open.”

Jarvis and DeBacker chuckled, although clearly, their experience with the Program isn’t the only reason the three have kept in touch for five decades. A shared sense of humor solidified their camaraderie, and their commitment to the Class of 1975—and, by extension, their alma mater—is why the three joined forces this past fall to spearhead their class giving campaign for Homecoming 2025. Their energetic yet earnest entreaties to their fellow 50th reunion attendees resulted in nearly $200,000 in donations to the St. John’s Annual Fund, with an unprecedented class participation rate of just more than 49 percent. Going forward, the trio has agreed to work with St. John’s staff to promote giving rates among the Class of 1976 in Annapolis and Santa Fe as it gears up for its own landmark reunion next year.

Independent of philanthropy, these Johnnies exist in tandem as Platonic examples of the Program’s versatility. Tzudiker, an erstwhile member of the King William Players, is a Hollywood screenwriter who co-created and wrote the 1992 film-turned-Broadway musical Newsies alongside his wife, Noni White. Jarvis, who went on to attend medical school at the University of Vermont College of Medicine, is a professor of pediatrics at the University of Washington School of Medicine who works with indigenous communities in child health policy. And DeBacker, who holds an MBA from the University of Rochester’s Simon Business School, served as a vice president in finance and operations for various global manufacturing companies, retiring in 2013 after nearly seven years as a software company CEO. Prior to corporate life, he worked for eight years as a dairy farmer.

Tzudiker, Jarvis, and DeBacker arrived at St. John’s Annapolis in 1971, right toward the end of the Vietnam War. What initially drew them together? “Well, there’s, like, 100 students,” DeBacker deadpanned. “You’d really literally meet everyone.” Jarvis interjected: “Matt was in my freshman seminar, and I was in Bob’s sophomore language seminar.” “And Matt was across the hall from me,” Tzudiker recalled, “in that little, tiny room at the end of the stairway. You sort of knew everyone, even if you might not be close with everyone.”

“I think the thing I most remember,” Jarvis concluded, “is how much the Program suffused through all aspects of life. It was probably the only place in the U.S. where Iliad jokes would percolate.”

Throughout their four years of the Program, their education proved to be transformative. They transformed each other as well. “We were engaged with each other, not sitting in lectures being told what to think about something,” Tzudiker said. “We were exposed to each other in a deeper way than at many schools.”

Outside the classroom, croquet still had a decade or so to go before it became a widely adopted campus sport, but the three shared stories of classmates who competed against—and beat—Naval Academy midshipmen in chess and sailing, rivalries bested only by bitter tales of Johnnie intramural games gone sour. In the lead-up to September 2025 Homecoming, the trio’s preferred form of friendly competition was drumming up 100 percent giving participation amongst their classmates, something they all agreed was much more significant at the end of the day than certain individuals giving more money than others.

“Just in terms of getting everyone to contribute, it can be very significant to grant-making organizations,” Tzudiker said. “It’s evidence of value and engagement. It’s better to give a dollar than nothing at all.” This helps St. John’s leverage larger grants, which, in turn, allows the college to accomplish bigger and better things.

Jarvis, who began brainstorming the Class of 1975’s giving campaign months ago, was galvanized after seeing his wife’s graduating class at Middlebury College raise $13 million. Sure, their cohort was technically eight times larger than the Class of 1975 was at St. John’s, but the number was impressive, plus “they had a whole committee of their classmates,” Jarvis said. “I was watching them working, and I thought, ‘Who do I know who’s done this before?’ Bob and I had previously done some fundraising, but I thought having [former CFO] Matt work with us would be extremely helpful.”

He added, “Matt has gravitas we will never have.” Gravitas aside, DeBacker said he hoped that alums would be additionally motivated by tax breaks to give back to St. John’s, and that they should remember to plan said giving while conducting their annual financial reviews.

Homecoming weekend has since come and gone at St. John’s College, but even with the class giving effort and pre-booked campus visits (Tzudiker and Jarvis shared an Airbnb in Annapolis while attending the festivities), life’s unpredictability also continues to serve as a connecting force. They don’t know when they’ll see each other again, as the three reside in different states, but rest assured, they will—and they’ll pick up as if no time has passed with plenty of jokes, Homer references, and maybe even a Freshman Math 101 discussion about points.

“I’m really glad I went to St. John’s,” Jarvis said, “because now I have friends like these.”