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Bulfinch Hall - Andover English with Francis J. 'Black Mac' McCarthy 1954-1955

Category: Andover

Phillips Academy Class of 1955 class notes

Unabridged PA ’55 Class Notes Fall / Winter 2026 – 2027

Posted on by David Harrison

The following is an unabridged version of the version limited to a 900-word count which will appear in Andover Magazine’s Fall / Winter issue. It’s significantly longer than usual for a reason: the rate of attrition among our number over the past year. 133 down to 124 and my being more proactive. The journalist going for the story rather than waiting for the story to come to him and classmates who have stories to tell.  If you haven’t already gotten my personal attention my intention is that you will. So, please, add my phone number to your contacts: (303) 746-5983. My intention is also to see that domestic alumni who don’t do computers, websites, and emails receive hardcopies of the unabridged notes. Foreign alumni when I win the lottery.
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Fred Byron: Responding to my asking if it was he, the editor of The Phillipian, who had once stood at the top of the stairs facing the student body as it filed into Cochran Chapel. Reminding me of Mark Antony striking a pose from the steps of the Temple. “I have no recollection of the event you describe, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t happen. My ability to recall things that happened seventy years ago is much impaired, although your description makes it sound like an event I should remember. Mark it down as a mystery along with the great Route 28 detour caper!”

Phillipian headline March 5, 1954: FRED W. BYRON IS ELECTED NEW PHILLIPIAN EDITOR. Among “nine associates told of their appointments during a Friday meeting in the Rose Room:” Robert A. Pitts, Managing Editor; Stephen B. Clarkson, General Manager; Thomas Hale, Jr., Assignments Editor; Louis M. Bell, Sports Editor [and cartoonist]; Richard N. Smith, Copy Editor; and Fred A. Cooper, News Editor. Did the new editor make the sparks fly? PHILLIPIAN HITS RULES, by F. W. Byron Jr., ran the five-column headline January 13, 1955 above his incendiary editorial declaring the Academy’s new disciplinary system a “flop.” Why? “Constant faculty supervision” that “hits the ‘non-hacker’ too hard.” How about the uppitty Phillipian editor? With thanks to Jack Doykos for his donation of five issues of The Phillipian 1953 to 55.
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Dil Cannon: I am now 89 years old, and have been retired from orthopedic and sports medicine practice for 12 years. But to my total surprise, approximately 4 months ago, I received an email stating that my name will be used for a new society at UCSF called the “Cannon Society”. Our first meeting will be on September 9, and I will be giving a short talk.
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When I checked in with Ben Cheney recently, he’d read a biography of John Wesley Powell that got him interested in the Colorado River. Aware that Lake Mead is going down while Las Vegas housing is going up, adding to the demand for water when there’s already not enough to meet it. As Powell had long ago warned would happen, a threat to the American Southwest. A reminder that “people don’t act until there’s a crisis,” as Ben observed, with an interesting question: are we too late?

Bitter cold was the personal crisis for Ben. Twenty-two years in Rochester, Minnesota, where his career as a manufacturing executive and consultant took him, and then he and Mary Ann headed South to Irmo, South Carolina. Thirteen years ago, to the warmth of retirement, volunteering at the state museum in Columbia, and family. Living with his daughter, Laura, and in touch with sons in Florida and Minnesota. Grandfather to grandchildren in New England, Minnesota, and Seattle and now a great-grandfather to a great-granddaughter. 64 ½ years of marriage came to an end last year when he lost Mary Ann; they’d married while Ben was stationed in Brunswick, Georgia, for further training after having gone through the Navy’s OCS.

Ben has fond memories of “a bunch of good guys:” South Carolinian Walt McLeod; former Minnesotan Peter Bradley; his Yale college roommate Bob Schaedel; Steve Clarkson who sat next to him for four years in Chapel; John Carswell; Beez Morton; Fritz Okie; Don Oasis; and Jack Doykos. Bob Pitts (d. 2023) and Fritz Cooper (d. 2011) are missed – roommates from Andover Cottage, Johnson and Bartlet Halls. Ben remembers teachers Charley Stevens (Latin) and Emory Basford (English) with appreciation and affection. As for his Bartlet Hall’s housemaster, Ben “kept a low profile.” That would be Alston Chase who “enforced the rules.” “Andover was a wonderful school. We were lucky.”

A graduate of Yale in American Studies, Ben “fell in love” with heavy manufacturing — ‘factory’ — that got him an education in engineering and led to an executive career in textiles, metals, and plastic. Followed by a career consulting in reinforced plastic that got him an education in another river’s climate: the Red River of the North. A glacial lakebed, cold, flat, and prone to flooding. All the way to a client’s business in Winnipeg and beyond. To Gimli on Lake Winnipeg, where Ben learned about “The Miracle of Gimli.” When Air Canada flight 143, out of gas, glided safely onto a drag strip that had been a WWII era airfield, in the summer of 1983.

So, back to Lake Mead, the Colorado, and Ben’s concern about water: will our luck hold out? Or will it take a miracle?_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Duncan Cox heard that he’d won Andover’s “Improvement Prize,” he was earning an electrical engineering degree at Yale. Word reached him through a younger brother who was in GW Hall when it was announced, suggesting, perhaps, that Andover considers its students “most improved” when it’s rid of them. The improvement in part was memorizing ancient history dates after a blow to the head affected his memory and got him the lowest grade in Mr. Minard’s class. With help from Mom, who filled in ably for Mr. Minard until her son “was let back into Andover.”

Fast-forward to 2006 when Duncan became a Fellow at the Institute of Navigation, cited “for his leadership and technical innovations in the development of inertial GPS [Global Positioning System] and integrated navigation systems, and for his service to the Institute of Navigation” https://www.ion.org/. Cause for reflection on a career that took him to MIT’s Draper Laboratory where he got Draper into GPS development, then got himself into “all sorts of personal development” while he navigated through human nature. A difficult working relationship at Mayflower Communications, a business he co-founded, that put him to founding another in six years. DBC Communications, where he could refocus on GPS-type technology that he “enjoyed immensely.”

And on family now that he’s retired. On second wife Kristin Mellen, his sons Duncan III and Edward who live nearby in Beverly and Salem, and a grandchild. Plus Kristin’s children, one of whom promotes clean water by swimming in the Hudson River. Originally from Long Island, Duncan made it to Marblehead where it’s a pleasure to walk and to sail, though it was while living in Manchester that he last enjoyed sailing in his sloop.

Until recently, politics and honesty in government weren’t a concern but that’s changed. Duncan has joined “Preserving Our Democracy and Ecology,” a church reading group aware that “Democracy is in huge trouble.” Elections are being messed with and views objectionable to the government risk incarceration. “Anything going wrong with the health of our country, Earth’s climate and environment,” has their attention. They’re on the alert and they’re motivated.

Not “socially integrated” when he started out in Will Hall, Duncan is motivated now to connect. Too late with Dave Page (d. 2026), who attended his wedding, and with Lonnie Blackmer (d. 2023), who brought Duncan into his family’s campus home to board his senior year. But not for Steve Kaye, another friend, and there may be others. [For help finding them alumni can go to Andover’s website https://www.andover.edu/alumni/alumni-connect/in-your-region or check with their class secretary. Class lists are maintained by staff and shared with secretaries but not with individual alumni.] All this relayed to me when we talked in September.

So, just how ‘improved’ was Duncan? “The smallest guy at Andover” his junior year, who went out for football so he could live up to his Yale-footballing Dad. How can you improve on that?
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Steve Halsted: Thanks for the [Zoom] report, and I look forward to participation in the future–when life is not so busy!! I am happily settled in a retirement community in Santa Barbara with my wife Carole (in a second marriage of 29 years). Four children, 10 grandchildren, and 4 great grandkids. Sticking close to home after extensive travels in Europe and Mexico. Happy to be alive!!!
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Dobie Jenkins: Thank you for the opportunity to share our memories from the early ’50s at PA. I was surprised and disappointed at how few of the ’55 survivors took advantage of this opportunity to visit [Zoom meeting August 9]. Other than my mates at [Clement] house on School St., I knew more students in the year ahead of us as I had spent the summer of ‘52 working on the  AMC’s trail with Dave Hayes, ’54, and Lex Thielens, ‘53, a friend from Alabama whom I knew when we were in the army together in the late ‘50s at the Army Language School in Monterey, CA, then subsequently when he visited California with his Chinese language fellow students in the 1970s until perhaps late 1990s – early 2000s.

A teacher-coach I liked during my year at PA was [George “Red”] Sanborn [math & biology], who offered outings off campus and up to the southern White Mountains. As for housemates, I remember Thos. W. Alexander [d. 1979]; Sam Kennedy [d. 2012]; [Peter] Metcalf [d. 2001]; Dave something; and a fifth student I cannot recall. No office at PA seems to have records of the house occupants over the years. My friend, Tony Costello, a day student from Andover, I was saddened to read, is also deceased [1983].

I will continue to read the class notes and look forward to a future Zoom encounter, hoping it will attract more students of 1955. I will also ask the alumni folks if there are other living PA-AA folks in this part of California [Santa Cruz, on the central coast].
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The life and times of Bob Kohler, Professor Emeritus, University of Pennsylvania, got their first airing here when I called in September and he answered thinking I was either Jack, his glaciologist son in Norway, or Willy, his artist son in Chicago. My good fortune and yours that he didn’t hang up because his is a fascinating story. Like others among us, Bob started out in one professional direction, was blessed to be taken with another, and then found himself in something totally different that came along by accident. First it was organic chemistry (summa cum laude Yale, Harvard PhD), then on to what he considered the “world’s best job” at Penn: doing the writing and publishing alongside Arnold Thackray, founding Chair of the Department of History and Sociology of Science. In all, eight titles currently on Amazon including Landscapes and Labscapes: Exploring the Lab-Field Border in Biology (2002). And from there to art collecting.

Still residing in Philadelphia’s University City near his old job, Bob is buoyed by family – three grandchildren in addition to sons who are good to him — while not letting himself be weighed down by current events. ‘Andover’ brings up the memory of Bob Spurr, an Alaskan rock-climbing enthusiast and a close friend (d. 1995), whom I remembered as the straight-shooting captain of the rifle team. Otherwise what he recalls of his four years there was that it wasn’t easy. The thirteenth Kohler to attend Andover, he came into his own when, at the age of 21, he married Frances.

You can read more about Bob, his late wife of sixty-three years, and Professor Thackray on my website. Where I’ve posted a separate addendum to this note with descriptions from the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and the Woodmere Art Museum of “Bodies and Souls: Robert and Frances Coulborn Kohler Collection,” concurrent exhibitions last spring in Philadelphia. A great leap forward from when I visited Bob in the adjoining room at Rockwell House, seventy-five years ago, and admired his non-regulation easy chair. A clear sign, I thought, that this guy would someday make a difference.
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Fritz Okie would have been a dominant presence on Mike Bell’s Phillipian sports page, a six-time varsity ‘A’ stud, a fleet-footed track star who whipped Exeter and captained lacrosse and soccer. A talent for performance and leadership that served him well afterward in Pittsburgh, where he could help his hometown ‘modernize’, as he put it to me. Get out from under the shadows of industrial heavyweights like Andrew Carnegie by reviving faded institutions. Give them a new purpose, bring in new management, and replace fusty male-chauvinist orthodoxy with more inclusive humanitarian values.

A cause that called upon him to serve on various boards and take on executive responsibility when the need arose.

  • As it did when he volunteered with East Liberty’s venerable Presbyterian Church. An experienced banker with an economics degree from Princeton, Fritz helped the Church expand its endowment while serving as its business manager, organized its security force for protection in a tough part of town, and volunteered, at its request, to head East Liberty’s storied Regent Theatre. Once an incubator for entertainment greats Dick Powell, Gene Kelly, and Billy Strayhorn, while it transitioned into an arts theatre and incubator for musicians among the underprivileged.
  • And as it did when, as its president, Fritz overhauled the bylaws of Sewickley’s Allegheny Country Club to bring it into the 20th century, so women would have a vote on its board among other things.

He had the time because he’d retired early. Before 2007, when his former employer, Mellon Financial Corporation, merged with Bank of New York to become BNY-Mellon. A blow to Pittsburgh’s reputation for business competence and integrity brought on by leadership compromises that wouldn’t make it in his dad’s time or ours. “A world gone to hell,” in Fritz’s words, short on morality. He’s not sure what to make of Artificial Intelligence but he is sure that we need another president. Meanwhile, he’s enjoying retirement, still in condition to venture off to the Bahamas every December with Cynthia Ingram, his girlfriend, and to the Caribbean or the Seychelles every year for saltwater fishing with his stepsons.

He stayed connected for a time with Fritz Cooper (d. 2011), his dormmate at Clement House, with Dick (John) Pille (d. 2023), his roommate in Day Hall, and with Tat Hillman, his Princeton roommate, whom he recalls seeing at our 25th reunion in 1980. Cooper and Hillman both native Pittsburghers who, like me, followed their bliss elsewhere. Were it not for G.G. Benedict, PA’s dean of students, Fritz might not have gotten into Princeton nor I into Harvard on the strength of our academics at Andover. Interesting question: how many of us should be thanking Mr. Benedict for our prospects after Andover? Don’t all speak at once!
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“The best experience of my life” is how Al Polk recalled his four years at Andover when we talked in September. Particularly his lower year at Andover Cottage where he was among ten or so friends and stayed connected with two for good: John Palmer and Peter Bradley. A demanding English instructor also made a lasting impression – Walter Gierasch, – as did football and basketball that aspired to varsity but never quite made it.

As for the present “it’s a different world now.” Middle Eastern money put his occupation out of reach years ago. Thoroughbred horse breeding in Lexington, Fayette County, Kentucky. Horse country, where “the best-looking stallion I’d ever seen” sired Temperance Hill, the mare who won the Belmont Stakes at 53-1 odds in 1980. He’s upset that the Republican Party is no longer conservative but, as he put it, there’s good and bad. He’s happily retired with wife Mary by Burt Lake in northern Michigan where they’re visited by family in the summer. Four talented children and five grandchildren, most settled in California except for a grandchild in South Carolina. All doing well.

Once an avid small boat sailor Al gave it up last year. Travel and even getting outdoors for walks cut back, but Burt Lake is still beautiful every fall and spring. And he hasn’t lost interest in Andover. The family whose doings he checks regularly in Andover Magazine and now on my website, where there’s no word count and no waiting for publication. A different world for sure but, in this case, for the better.
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Mike West was busy retiring when we talked early in the fall semester of ’26. So busy that he didn’t have time for a complete class note which will have to wait for the Spring issue. One of the oldest tenured faculty at the University of Pittsburgh Mike had so far enjoyed teaching English, but now that Artificial Intelligence had become the default for many students the pleasure had gone out of it. Honest students were being disadvantaged by cheaters. A problem best left to professors more electronically gifted than a “hardcopy guy” like himself. There were minor health issues and other complications, but to my ears “hardcopy guy” summed it up. Not so much a limitation of ability as doing the work to get it right. Strength of character that attends to fundamentals – our legacy from Andover. Which puts Mike on the front lines of a pressing issue and his decision to retire on the right side of it. A gift to the next generation from the spirit and pride of ’55.

Also posted to my website:

Recap: Inaugural Virtual Reunion: Zoom Meeting August 09, 2026 (hosted by Walt Howe and Hope Tillman)

James Boxley Cooke September 15, 1936 – July 15, 2026
George Christian Crosby 1936 – March 21, 2026
Harold Francis Donnelly Jr. July 25, 1937 – May 11, 2026
Dr. Thomas Hale Jr., October 1937 – July 22, 2026

Andover ’55 Class Notes Fall / Winter 2026-2027

Posted on by David Harrison

Abridged Fall / Winter class notes. For unabridged version please go to my website.

Fred Byron (editor of The Phillipian): I have no recollection of the event you describe [standing at the top of the stairs facing the student body as it filed into Cochran Chapel. Reminding me of Mark Antony striking a pose from the steps of the Temple] but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t happen. Your description makes it sound like an event I should remember. Mark it down as a mystery along with the great Route 28 detour caper!

Dil Cannon: I am now 89 years old, and have been retired from orthopedic and sports medicine practice for 12 years. But to my total surprise, approximately 4 months ago, I received an email stating that my name will be used for a new society at UCSF called the “Cannon Society”. Our first meeting will be on September 9, and I will be giving a short talk.

Ben Cheney’s career as a manufacturing executive and consultant took him to chilly Rochester, Minnesota for 22 years. Then, 13 years ago, he and Mary Ann headed south to the warmth of retirement in Irmo, South Carolina, volunteering at the state museum in Columbia, and family. Now living with his daughter, Laura, and in touch with sons in Florida and Minnesota. Grandfather to grandchildren in New England, Minnesota, and Seattle and now great-grandfather to a great-granddaughter. He lost Mary Ann last year after 64 ½ years of marriage.

Duncan Cox ended his career at a business he founded, DBC Communications, where he could refocus on GPS-type technology that he “enjoyed immensely.” He’s focused since on family: second wife Kristin Mellen, his sons Duncan III and Edward who live nearby in Beverly and Salem, and a grandchild. Plus Kristin’s children, one of whom promotes clean water by swimming in the Hudson River. Originally from Long Island, Duncan last enjoyed sailing in his sloop in Manchester and is now living in Marblehead, where it’s “a pleasure to walk.”

Steve Halsted: I look forward to participation [in Zoom reunions] when life is not so busy!! I am happily settled in a retirement community in Santa Barbara with Carole (in a second marriage of 29 years). Four children, 10 grandchildren, and 4 great-grandkids. Sticking close to home after extensive travels in Europe and Mexico. Happy to be alive!!!

Dobie Jenkins: I look forward to a future Zoom encounter, hoping it will attract more students of 1955. A teacher-coach I liked during my year at PA was [George “Red”] Sanborn [math & biology], who offered outings off campus and up to the southern White Mountains. As for housemates, I remember Thos. W. Alexander [d. 1979]; Sam Kennedy [d. 2012]; [Peter] Metcalf [d. 2001]; Dave something; and a fifth student I cannot recall. My friend, Tony Costello, a day student from Andover, I was saddened to read, is also deceased [1983].

The 13th Kohler to attend Andover, Bob Kohler started out in academics where he helped to found the history and sociology of science at Penn with Professor Thackray, then wound up in “serious art collecting.” Concurrent exhibitions last spring at the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts and the Woodmere Art Museum — “Bodies and Souls: Robert and Frances Coulborn Kohler Collection.” Still residing in Philadelphia’s University City, Bob is buoyed by family: sons “who are good to me” – Jack, a glaciologist in Norway, and Willy, an artist in Chicago — plus three grandchildren. When he lost her, he and Frances had been married for 63 years.  [See addendum to Bob’s class note on my website for more on his groundbreaking work at Penn and his and Frances’s art collection.]

After a career in banking, Fritz Okie volunteered for executive responsibility to help “modernize” Pittsburgh, as he put it. His home town, where he became president of the storied Regent Theatre at the request of East Liberty’s Presbyterian Church. Once an incubator for entertainment greats Dick Powell, Gene Kelly, and Billy Strayhorn, the Regent was transitioning into an arts theatre and incubator for musicians among the underprivileged. These days Fritz is still venturing off to the Bahamas every December with Cynthia Ingram, his girlfriend, and to the Caribbean every year for saltwater fishing with his stepsons.

“It’s a different world now” for Al Polk. Middle Eastern money put his occupation out of reach years ago — thoroughbred horse breeding in Lexington, Kentucky. Where “the best-looking stallion I’d ever seen” sired Temperance Hill, the mare who won the Belmont Stakes at 53-1 odds in 1980. He’s upset with politics but, as he put it, “there’s good and bad.” Happily retired with wife Mary by Burt Lake in northern Michigan where they’re visited by family in the summer. Four talented children and five grandchildren, most settled in California except for a grandchild in South Carolina. All doing well. Once an avid small boat sailor Al gave it up last year. Travel and even getting outdoors for walks cut back, but Burt Lake is still beautiful every fall and spring.

Mike West’s class note will have to wait for the Spring issue. One of the oldest tenured faculty at the University of Pittsburgh, he’s busy retiring. Done with a career that he enjoyed — teaching English — but now that Artificial Intelligence has become the default for many students the pleasure has gone out of it. Honest students disadvantaged by cheaters. A problem best left to professors more electronically gifted than a “hardcopy guy” like himself.

Addendum to Bob Kohler’s class note Fall / Winter 2026 – 2027

Posted on by David Harrison

Bodies and Souls: Robert and Frances Coulborn Kohler Collection 

Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts
March 14, 2026 – July 12, 2026
https://www.pafa.org/museum/exhibitions/bodies-souls 

About the Kohlers & their Collection 

The Kohlers began collecting with purpose after seeing Contemporary American Realism Since 1960 at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts (PAFA) in 1981. The range of figurative work in that exhibition led them to explore a wider range of that genre among living artists in the 1980s-2010s. They followed their gut but also paid attention to the advice of dealer Allan Frumkin who told them to “buy the toughest work you can stand.” That struck a chord with the Kohlers and led them to focus on artists who made figuration relevant to their inner and social lives.

In turns irreverent, hilarious, sensual, vulnerable, expressive of dreams and of trauma, the work reflects the full range of human experience—all the messy and multilayered conditions of being in a body. Many makers in the Kohler collection acknowledge the existence of the unseen, the alien, the frightening, that which is below the surface, out of reach, just beyond the light. The collection often favors artists unafraid to enter darkness and the unknown in order to reveal a deeper truth.

The Kohler collection also provides a way to see how artists interact with a network of friends, colleagues, and others who provide support throughout their lives. Networks of artists active in Chicago, Philadelphia, San Francisco, and western Massachusetts are prominent in the collection, but they overlap and reveal mutual interests. Understanding the relationships between artists, especially groups of artists active in specific communities, tells compelling stories about the values and the character of a place. It is a way to center people rather than style, gets at the heart of what artists care about in a particular moment and place, and brings empathy to bear on what artists depict.

Woodmere Art Museum
March 7, 2026 – June 7, 2026
https://woodmeremuseum.org/exhibitions/bodies-and-souls-robert-and-frances-coulborn-kohler-collection

“Representation is a crucial location of struggle for any exploited and oppressed people asserting subjectivity and decolonization of the mind.” — bell hooks

Bodies and Souls traces the imaginative and ethical force of representational art while celebrating the growth of Woodmere’s collection through the generous underwriting of Robert and Frances Coulborn Kohler.  Woodmere’s continuing partnership with the Kohlers is grounded in a commitment to Philadelphia’s artists and to works in which visibility and self-definition are actively claimed.

Focusing on late twentieth and early twenty-first century paintings, drawings, and sculpture by artists including Barbara Bullock, Roland Ayers, Marta Sanchez, Sidney Goodman, Andrew Turner, Henry Bermudez, Ashley Flynn, Anne Minich, Twins Seven Seven, and many others, the exhibition reveals how representational figurative practices insist on presence. These artists depict bodies as relational, vulnerable, and resilient, attending to gender, sexuality, interiority, and urban life, while countering erasure and exclusion with strong visual narratives. 

Bodies and Souls presents representation as a liberatory strategy—one that enables artists to see and be seen on their own terms, documenting embodied experience while imagining more just and humane ways of being in the world.

Bodies and Souls is presented concurrently with an exhibition of the same title featuring the Kohlers’ personal collection at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (https://www.pafa.org/museum/exhibitions/bodies-souls-kohler-collection).

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Arnold Thackray

Professor Emeritus, University of Pennsylvania
Arnold.thackray@gmail.com215-873-8245
Chemical Heritage Foundation, 315 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, PA 19106

Arnold Thackray received his Ph.D. from Cambridge University in 1966. He has held faculty appointments in Oxford (visiting fellow, All Souls College), Cambridge (fellow, Churchill College) and at the LSE, Harvard, the Institute for Advanced Study, the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences (Stanford) and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. He was the founding Chairman of the Department of History and Sociology of Science, and today is the Joseph Priestley Professor Emeritus.  Dr. Thackray is the former president of the Chemical Heritage Foundation.

Dr. Thackray’s interests lie in the historiography of science, and in understanding technology, medicine, and science as elements of modern culture. His first investigations were into European intellectual history and resulted in Atoms and Powers: An Essay on Newtonian Matter-Theory and the Development of Chemistry (1970). That work led on to John Dalton: Critical Assessments of His Life and Science (1972) and–indirectly–to Gentlemen of Science: The Early Years of the British Association for the Advancement of Science (two volumes, 1981 and 1985, co-authored with Jack Morrell).

A second train of research concerns the American chemical and chemical engineering community in the past century, especially within a context of quantitative history and policy concerns. The co-edited volume Toward a Metric of Science: The Advent of Science Indicators (1974) was followed by Chemistry in America, 1876-1976: An Historical Application of Science Indicators (1985, co-authored with R.F. Bud, P.T. Carroll and J.L. Sturchio) an edited series of volumes on The Chemical Sciences in Society and, most recently, by Arnold Beckman (2000).

A third, more occasional line of enquiry has resulted in various articles on the development of the history and sociology of science as a field of scholarly endeavor, and in edited volumes on Science and Values: Patterns of Tradition and Change (1974), and on Science After Forty (1994).  Dr. Thackray served as editor of Isis, the official journal of the History of Science Society, for seven years, and as editor of the Society’s newer journal, Osiris, for ten years.

Dr. Thackray has been active in the public life of scholarship, serving on a number of boards, including that of the American Council on Education. He is a former President of the Society for Social Studies of Science, and a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, the Royal Historical Society and the Royal Society of Chemistry.   Dr. Thackray was the Treasurer of the American Council of Learned Societies from 1985 to 1996, and is currently a Trustee of the University of Pennsylvania Press.  He has twice been awarded fellowships from the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, has served as George Sarton lecturer of AAAS, and is a recipient of the Dexter Award of the American Chemical Society.

Nobody Here But Us Chickens

Posted on by David Harrison

Ignored by Mr. Dodge

Hi Old-Timer! What’s up? Wondering. Nothing new. About what? Causes. Why we get out of bed in the morning. How causes come to our awareness. And you couldn’t wait to bring your thoughts to my awareness. I hungered for something. That I couldn’t put into words when I was younger but maybe I can now. Though I’ve been trying so far without much success. Hungered for what? Maybe I’ll get it. To know what certain people were thinking. It mattered to me to understand why they did what they did, because however it affected me – if it affected me at all – it was confusing. I didn’t understand. So I grew up confused, hungering to get rid of the confusion so I could understand.

Understand who? Family. Dad and Mom, older Sister and Brother. And Grandma when she was living with us. They were all a mystery. The whole family was a mystery, and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to do something about it.

Weren’t they nice? Nice enough. Kids were showing up at grade school from Rook and Whiskey Hollow with lice wearing hand-me-down clothes and talking rough. Where I was, on top of Greentree Hill riding around in my Dad’s Buicks and Cadillacs, I was embarrassed, I had it so good. What nagged at me was how it felt, being part of emotional currents and undercurrents that sometimes fit with an image of plenty and contentment and sometimes not. And when they didn’t fit it could be quite a jolt. Uncomfortable. For all the sweetness there were sour notes and they had a lasting effect.

How long? Right up to now. They’re feeding my website and this letter. Doing something about it is looking for explanations so I can understand. You’re making progress? Since I first started writing about it I’ve made more progress than I could imagine.

When did you start? My second year at Andover. I was studying Shakespeare in an English class taught by Joe Dodge and one day, out of the blue, I wrote an essay on my own and handed it in. Mr. Dodge rewarded you for extra effort. Hah! Don’t I wish! Shakespeare had extraordinary insight into the human Psyche. Into human motivations and causes, situations and relationships, and maybe this is what triggered my insight. Even though I had little success understanding his plays, and Mr. Dodge took no interest in me. My essay made no impression.

Where things stand 

What was your insight? That though the home I’d grown up in till then was populated with people there was nobody home. My essay was a search for personal connection and meaning from empty rooms. All of them? I became aware of a connection, years later, when my Mom described something similar. A recurring nightmare, being alone in an empty house. So my essay could have been a psychic connection with her. An early one but not the last. She and I reflected in conversations sometimes where the others stuck to what they were doing. We were the philosophers.

Where do things stand? The year my Dad died I was thirty, confused and looking for answers. An explanation that I thought would somehow turn up in his effects, in stuff he’d written and stored in a box in the basement. Wow! What did you find? Nothing. The box was there in my mind but not there in the basement. Or anywhere else. My Dad’s life had come to an end without a definitive statement of what it had been all about. This made no sense to me. What’s the point of living if it’s not about something? If it can’t be put into words and shared with the next generation? Same thing when my Mom died. It just ended and that was it. She was OK with the next generation writing her story.

Principles and values

You’re going to write your own story. Trying to. The human family has come to dire stuff going on today, like Artificial Intelligence and climate change, because it hasn’t reflected. And so it’s barreling ahead with little understanding of what it means and the consequences. The ‘story’ it’s following seems a patchwork of cliches and mythologies handed down from the past that don’t offer much guidance. If anything they’re steering us over a cliff, and it’s because they’re not being questioned. They’re getting the Joe Dodge treatment. Leaving Person unattended along with purpose and meaning, which leaves the field open to mountebanks. Tricksters and charlatans, to form cults of non-thinkers like themselves and lead them wherever they want.

The overall effect is lack of guidance. So, yes, if telling our stories makes sense of things and sharing them is guidance I’ll tell my story. And you’ll tell yours, and it will make things maybe a little less confusing for all of us. Keep us from going over a cliff. 

Should I look in your basement? No basement here and no box. Just a bunch of essays. No book? Books imply finality, whereas reflection tells me that Life is about Movement. Things moving forward with evolution which makes everything a work in progress. Including my essays. Including this letter, which will be out of date tomorrow or the next day. Or next year. Working papers that won’t be much use in dealing with situations in the future. They’re time-limited, so I don’t see much point in making a fuss over them.

And yet there are principles and values that stand the test of time. That originate with a situation that’s not in and of this world and could be helpful if we gave them any thought. That’s not weighted down by the dead hand of the past. That’s alive with spontaneity in the moment, and so they have relevance. Insights from intuition that come from purpose with meaning. From what I call Guidance. Another perspective that’s both objective and relatable, though even great minds have struggled to relate to it. Because, I imagine, of where they were and are in their growth. In evolution, trying to get it with the awareness that they’re capable of. With the faculties of Mind at their stage of evolution.

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

This doesn’t sound like any ‘guidance’ I’m aware of. It’s because human thought is permeated with the habits of the animals we are and are descended from. That’s not only unaware of evolution but opposed to it. Fooled by bodies and their five senses into believing that whatever is ‘out there’ is all there is and it’s whatever their five senses say it is. An unchanging, one-dimensional poster. ‘Reality’ with no more substance than a sheet of paper. ‘Beings’ with no more purpose than stomachs to be filled and more bodies to produce. A ‘story’ with no more meaning than a cartoon. ‘Finality’, and if you are aware of evolution, if you do have a different perspective and question it, you must be crazy.

This helps get rid of the confusion? It does. Because it makes it possible to experience ‘family’ without being blindsided by its two-sidedness. One side made up of roles and relationships centered around Persons moving forward, the other made up of roles and relationships centered on hierarchy. The former dedicated to learning and growth where everyone learns from everyone else; the latter dedicated to the pecking order, where ‘learning’ is acceptance of things as they are and unquestioning obedience to those who rule the roost from above. The difference being between . . . people and chickens. Yes. ‘Pecking order’ inspired by chickens and ‘rule the roost’ by roosters. Not a bad metaphor if I do say so.

Screw you!

‘Tribal beast’ doesn’t remind me of chickens. It sounds more like a horror from Jurassic Park. The title of my essay. That you expect me to read? “Movement in Reverse: Family and the Tribal Beast that Pretends to Love it.” I try not to ‘expect’ anything since it smacks of willfulness. But I do anticipate that nobody will read it since nobody reads my essays. With the exception of my webmaster who’s much smarter than I am and even he thinks I’m unintelligible. So please ignore it. Go about your business and don’t think ill of me for sharing it.

I think ill of you. Sigh. For thinking I might be a tribal chicken who’s going to inflict more tribal chickens on the world and take us all to our doom. Not necessarily. It depends on whether you’re fried or broiled. I’m plucked. Then we’re doomed.

Is there a moral to your ridiculous story? Indeed! Human-ape was an improvement when it branched off from ape, but we’re still a species of ape. That’s according to zoology. A tribal species which is a huge problem, because the ‘morality’ of tribes is screw you. Like where in politics and commerce some political parties and corporations stop at nothing to dominate. They’re the chickens taking us to our doom as we speak, letting Artificial Intelligence invade the coop and the climate to fry our asses. Where’s even common sense in that let alone doing what’s right?

Dumb animals

Here’s a quote from Stephen Miller, a fascist mucky-muck in the White House:

“We live in a world – in the real world – that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world that have existed from the beginning of time.” *

The law of the jungle he means, that applied until it was rewritten. When ape learned to differentiate and empathize and became Sapiens, a very different species of ape. Equipped with faculties of Mind that didn’t stop evolving just because there was one step forward. There could be more steps forward. Logic and common sense say so, and they could take Sapiens beyond being any kind of animal. Beyond inhabiting a planet of Stephen Miller apes. And to presume that we know where that could be or how we’d get there would be as dumb as ape anticipating our arrival.

Stephen Miller no better than a dumb animal. Literally.

The fourth edition of The Reference Manual on Scientific Evidence published by the Federal Judicial Center (FJC) last year contained a section on climate change. What for? To serve as a guide for federal judges who have to adjudicate cases involving stuff they’re not professionally trained to understand. The fossil fuel industry and its conservative political patrons don’t want laws and regulations putting limits on what they can do. Even if what they can do is contribute to global warming and mass extinction, so they threatened to block federal funding for the FJC unless it removed the section on climate change. Which it did, allowing politics to override scientific evidence and screw us all. **

More dumb animals. Right again. What does this tell us about our story? Not only about what it should be about but who should be writing it? That we should be writing it and it should tell the truth. Not what some tribal beast protecting its turf is telling us. We’re talking about the family of humanity. About Persons whose morality isn’t tribal expedience but respect for what’s right. For all of us including future generations. Not just for special interests looking out for themselves. You said it!

Grandparents?

An idea that the tribal beast opposes not because it’s inherently evil but because evolution hasn’t yet gone beyond it. The human-animal has one foot headed toward Person and the other still stuck to ape, and if Movement forward is the way things are then it should be clear what our situation is asking of us. To do the right thing. Exactly. The moral thing that our Conscience is telling us: to help Sapiens move forward and not act like a bunch of chickens.

And not let our families at home be ruled by chicken-thinking either. By pecking-order etiquette that maintains ‘order’ at the expense of learning and growth that young Persons need. At the expense of family integrity that welcomes support from all who can provide it — teachers and coaches, authors, counsellors, and therapists. Extended family. Yes. Like who might that be? Grandparents?

______________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

*Jonathan Hahn, “When We Were Partners.” In Sierra (Fall 2026, p.3) 

**Jed S. Rakoff, “And Yet It Warms.” In The New York Review of Books (September 24, 2026, pp. 38-39)

Harold Francis Donnelly, Jr. July 25, 1937 – May 11, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

Hal Donnelly, 88, of Streetsboro, Ohio passed away peacefully, surrounded by his loving family on May 11th at Akron General Hospital.

Born on July 25, 1937 in Burlington, Vermont. Hal was the only son of Harold and Ruth Donnelly. He was preceded in death by his parents and sisters Nancy and Leah. He is survived by his sister Valerie. He grew up in the Suburbs of Boston (Brockton and Arlington) and graduated High School from Phillips Academy in Andover, MA before earning a B.A. at Springfield College and a Master’s Degree in English at Trinity College in Hartford, CT.

Hal was a gregarious person who loved to talk and tell stories. As a young boy raised in the midst of WWII, Hal gravitated to reading in his early life. He was fascinated by the Dave Dawson war adventure series, which started a lifelong love of literature including the classics and all things Shakespeare.

Meanwhile Hal also grew in physical stature, growing to over six feet tall as a sixth grader. Eventually he stood at 6’4″ and exceeded 250 pounds. He used his size and strength throughout his life as he passionately enjoyed playing competitive sports: football, basketball, baseball, tennis, golf and water skiing, with football being his favorite. After graduating college, he played defensive line on a semi pro basis in the Boston area and played for the New York Titans (later the Jets) in the old AFL before the NFL merger. As he aged and lost mobility, he continued to enjoy watching sports on television and rooting for his beloved childhood teams, especially the Boston Bruins, all of Cleveland’s pro sports teams, the OSU Buckeyes and the UConn Huskies women’s basketball team.

While serving as a Graduate Assistant football coach at the University of New Hampshire, Hal attended a powder puff football game and was taken by the beautiful quarterback of the girl’s team who could throw a 35 yd pass in a tight spiral. He pursued her for a date and eventually married Susan “Sue” Bragg Donnelly.

Hal combined his passions for literature and sports into a long career of teaching and coaching. He taught English for a few years at Mount Hermon School in Northfield, MA, followed by three years at Trinity College in Hartford, CT and then moved to Hudson, Ohio to coach, teach and mentor students at Western Reserve Academy (WRA). Although planning to stay only two years, Hal and Sue put down roots and remained for 43 years. They raised five children and have 13 grandchildren.

Hal shared his passion for literature and writing with three generations of academy students at WRA. He also served as the head of the social committee and mentored many foreign students, particularly ones from England and Korea. After enjoying a sabbatical year studying at the Shakespeare Institute in Stratford-Upon-Avon in England in 1979, Hal began taking students and their parents on trips to the UK and France. He was known as a skilled coach and wise advisor. He worked many summers teaching and overseeing the curriculum of a federally funded program called Upward Bound which brought disadvantaged students with academic potential from Cleveland and Akron and gave them enhanced educational opportunities. Later, Hal, Sue and many of their children spent their summers running the Hudson Day Camp, teaching local kids to swim, play tennis and develop within a different environment than school. He also was the social director of the Encore music program for music prodigies who came to the WRA campus during summers.

Upon retiring from WRA he served as a founding member of the teaching faculty of Eukarya Christian Academy in Stephens City, VA, teaching two of his grandsons English and History via distance learning.

Hal was baptized as a young adult in Boston. He attended the First Congregational Church in Hudson during the 1970s and early ’80s and served as a youth Sunday school teacher and as a Deacon. Later, he went through a period of spiritual questioning and discouragement, but he eventually reestablished a strong faith in Christ. He and Sue attended Parkside Church in Aurora, OH and enjoyed the preaching of Alistair Begg in his later years. Even when he had difficulty getting around, he found ways to continue having an impact for Christ. When his children and grandchildren began going on short term missions trips to Uganda, Hal was a supporter of the ministry efforts there, partnering with ministries and schools to lift up underprivileged children in that country.

Hal was a devoted husband, father and grandfather. He is survived by his beloved wife of 63 years, Sue Bragg Donnelly, and by his children and grandchildren:

— Captain Jim Donnelly, USN Ret. and Patricia “CiCi” Donnelly of Hollywood, Maryland and their children: Kate, Colin, Taylor and Jack

— LT Steve Donnelly, USN Ret. of Streetsboro, Ohio, and his children: Stephen Jr., Abby, Nick, and Natalie (preceded in death by his wife, Pamela)

— Dan Donnelly, and Donna Donnelly of Winchester, Virginia and their children: Nolan and Owen

— Sean Donnelly and Dr. Amanda Donnelly of Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio and their children: Bridget, Audrey and Hope

— Amy Donnelly of Stephens City, Virginia

George Christian Crosby Jr. 1936 – March 21, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

Chris Crosby, 89, of Greenwood Village, Colorado, died peacefully on March 21, 2026 after a long period of declining health. He was surrounded in person and in spirit by his children, his grandchildren, their spouses, his great grandchildren, and his sister Harriett.

Chris was born and raised in Minnetonka, Minnesota, one of four children of George Christian Crosby, Sr, and Beatrice Wells Crosby Wilkes. He grew up playing tennis, hockey on the lakes of Minnesota, golfing, and waterskiing.

After graduating from boarding school at Phillips Academy, Andover, Massachusetts, in 1955, Chris attended Amherst College, also in Massachusetts and then the Darden Graduate School of Business receiving an MBA from the University of Virginia in 1961.

In 1958, he married Frances Holcombe Pitcher, from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The couple lived briefly in Charlottesville, Virginia; Seattle, Washington and Minneapolis, Minnesota but in 1965 moved to Colorado and raised four daughters in Cherry Hills Village.

It was in Colorado that Chris’ love of the great outdoors flourished. He became an avid bird hunter, fly fisherman, downhill skier, rollerblader and bicyclist. His lifelong interest in wildlife conservation and the outdoors led him to active involvement with building conservation organizations such as Ducks Unlimited, Trout Unlimited, working on Quality of Life and Health Issues with ROMCOE (the Rocky Mountain Center on the Environment), and serving on the Lamm-Wirth Rocky Flats Monitoring Committee.

Chris brokered real estate deals resulting in the creation of several duck hunting and fishing clubs. He specialized in acquisition, habitat improvement, management and sale of duck and trout properties east and northeast of Denver often with one of his daughters in tow.

Chris is survived by his four daughters, Mancy Jolliffe (Will), Marnie Barclay, Libby Harvey (Ned), Blair Mellon (Dennis); his 10 grandchildren, Kate Jolliffe Haaf (Landon), Morgan Jolliffe Clinkscales (CJ), Jack Jolliffe (Olivia), Alex Barclay (Liz), Brendan Barclay (Bailey), Jessica Jerrell (Dillon), Jackson Harvey, Spencer Harvey, Christian Mellon and Seth Mellon (Audrey) all of Greenwood Village, great grandchildren, Crosby Haaf, Collins Haaf, Annie Jerrell, and Theo Barclay. He is also survived by his brother Richard Wells Crosby in Minneapolis and sister Harriett McKnight Crosby in Washington D.C. He is predeceased by his sister Beatrice Crosby Booth, and his parents George Crosby and Bea Wilkes.

James Boxley Cooke September 15, 1936 – July 15, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

On July 15, just two months shy of his 90th birthday, our beloved father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, James Boxley Cooke, passed away.

Boxley (“Jim”, “Cookie”) loved spending time on the Chesapeake with his family and friends. Just before his final days, he spent a time-honored tradition of vacationing at his favorite place, the Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Boxley lived an adventurous, accomplished, and blessed life. Born and raised in Charleston, West Virginia, he attended Phillips Andover before graduating from Brown University in 1959. It was while his future wife, Jane Claire Menge, was attending Dana Hall boarding school that the two met and fell in love. Boxley and Jane were married for 63 years.

Boxley’s first “real” job was with the C&P Telephone Company. While working there, he became a commissioned 2nd Lieutenant in the West Virginia Air National Guard, completed his Air Force pilot training, and flew with air squadrons of the West Virginia and later the Maryland National Guard. Drawn to investing, he moved to Maryland to become a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch and, in 1972, became Vice President of Marketing at T. Rowe Price.

After retiring, Boxley worked as a volunteer. For Genesis Jobs, he counseled inner-city residents to become work-ready and find employment. In 1996, he joined the Silver Wings Aviationprogram for cadets at Martin State Airport, inspiring young people toward a career in aviation. He went on to lead the program for 5 years. In 2014, the State of Maryland honored him with a lifetime achievement award for his service.

A man of many talents, Boxley flew his Cessna 172 around the country. He was also a talented piano player who loved jazz. He loved boating on the Chesapeake Bay in his classic 1966 Boston Whaler. He enjoyed tennis and bowling as a longtime member of L’Hirondale. In his later years, he enjoyed croquet.

James Boxley Cooke was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Jane Claire Cooke. He’s survived by his children, Julia Cooke Guth, James Boxley Cooke, Jr., and Douglas Reid Cooke and daughter-in-law Anna Marie Dopkin. He leaves behind his grandchildren: James Boxley Cooke III, Charles Maxwell Cooke, Paula Dopkin Cooke, David Albert Guth, Dana Claire Guth, and Steven Christopher Parks. He’s also survived by great-grandchildren: Elizabeth Sarah Cooke, Melissa Grace Cooke, and Annabelle Jackie Cooke.

Call for Andover ’55 class notes Fall / Winter 2026 – 2027

Posted on by David Harrison

To my PA ’55 classmates and their partners in life and love,

Whose future?

Welcome to Labor Day weekend! Another chance “to honor the contributions and. . . strength of American workers” according to AI Overview, our modern-day Encyclopedia Brittannica. “A creation of the nineteenth century labor movement” that this century our offspring may want to rename. “Robot Day,” in recognition of labor’s replacement.

The worry a century ago was that labor-saving devices would leave us with too little to do when there would be plenty to do. We just wouldn’t be the ones doing it.

The world around us — on pace to become unrecognizable. In so many ways since we prepared at Andover that it’s hard to keep track. One being the quaint idea of the loyal opposition. The lynchpin of Democracy and self-questioning essential to character. Now being unpinned so opposition can be lynched.

A test of serenity, courage, and wisdom if we’re to make a difference. Our charge at Andover, when the class of ‘55 was taken aside for a motivational session in GW Hall, in September ’51. To be told that the future belonged to us. So one day we’d take charge. Today, it’s our grandchildren and the class of 2030. Who does their future belong to? Will they be able to take charge? Take charge of what? 

To you!

We can continue to wonder about such things in the class notes section of Andover Magazine or in real time through Zoom. Either way, thoughts, updates, and whimsy that can be relished anytime on my website. If staying connected was never so interesting it’s also never been so easy.

Here’s the link to our class notes in progress for the Fall / Winter issue: https://davidclarkharrison.com/2026/09/05/draft-fall-winter-notes-2026-2027/. Notes from Fred Byron and Steve Halsted plus recaps of Walt Howe’s Zoom meeting in August and the late Tom Hale’s extraordinary life. All on my website, with plenty of room for more.

Our deadline is Friday October 9. If you’d welcome a call to see how you’re doing meantime please make sure my phone number is added to your contacts. Thank you!

And thanks always for thinking of Andover when end-of-year gift-giving rolls around. Non Sibi – the gift that keeps on giving.

Here’s to you!

Dave Harrison, class secretary PA ‘55
2210 Nelson Ave. Apt A
Redondo Beach, CA 90278-2428

303 746-5983 / 74apollo350@gmail.com
https://davidclarkharrison.com/

Recap. Inaugural Virtual Reunion by Zoom: Phillips Academy Class of 1955, August 09, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

Hosts and participation

Andover 55’s inaugural Zoom get-together convened at 8 pm Eastern Sunday August 9 from the home of Walt Howe and his wife, Hope Tillman, in Catonsville, Maryland. Courtesy of Hope’s Zoom account which she managed with proficiency, a librarian trained in information technology and experienced in the teaching of Artificial Intelligence — among other things. Safe to say that when our class finally connected through this new-fangled wizardry it couldn’t have happened without her. Thank you, Hope!

Four percent of our extant class participated. Five out of 127. Actually less than four percent since the class secretary had no choice. Though now that Dave Harrison has been dragged into it, a chronic school reunion no-show, he would have jumped at the chance had he known what was in store. The feel of community among persons of good will and outstanding character who shared an extraordinary experience at a special time of life. Nothing like it!

Technology’s spread

From Walt and Hope’s Maryland home Zoom connected four classmates in three states across the country. Dobie Jenkins in Santa Cruz, California, along with Harrison in Redondo Beach; Dave Haartz in Virginia (Springfield); and Steve Kaye in New York (Millbrook). Our virtual gathering place was a scenic view of Sam Phillips Hall put behind Walt by Zoom Gallery, a feature that will likely attract more users when we meet again.

The conversation took predictable turns into the personal but it did so with an awareness of the not-so-predictable. Previous generations of Andover graduates haven’t had to contend with Artificial Intelligence; a type and magnitude of upheaval that’s without precedent in human history. As concerning to its creators as it is to the rest of us.

A happy coincidence, then, that two sure-footed AI experts were with us:

  • Walt’s experience with AI goes back to the 70s when he recognized its potential for growth. He wrote the Army’s Field Manual on Basic Cryptanalysis in 1989 and co-authored Internet Basics in 1993. He and Hope also led a 2001 conference session on Search Engines with Google’s co-founder Sergey Brin.
  • Hope has trained seniors in the use of AI and the importance of critical thinking. She’s the backbone of an IT-interested group at Erickson Senior Living communities that meets monthly on Zoom. She offered to send Haartz names from the Greenspring Community involved in IT for him to follow up with his wife on their resident council.

Lifestyles

Despite the similarity in our ages there was variety in our living arrangements and lifestyles. Haartz about to embark on a cruise from Baltimore with 25 family members while Steve and Harrison prefer to stay home. Settled now on the Golden State’s coast, Dobie compared notes with Walt and Hope on co-housing in Catonsville and Haartz on retirement living.

While Haartz’s wife worked with the World Health Organization in Geneva they traveled to over 160 countries. A feat that recalled a recent class note from Dick Woods who’s so far made it to 142 countries with his wife Robin.

Non Sibi

Haartz recalled boarding at America House on Main Street where Samuel Francis Smith, in 1832, penned the lyrics to America. As to where Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote Uncle Tom’s Cabin there was some dispute, whether in Canada or off in Ohio, but none as to where Steve and Harrison boarded: Stowe House, in adjoining rooms where Steve roomed with Mait Jones and Harrison with Dallas Cook. Luckier classmates were situated across the street from Abbott Academy, where it was easier to attend tea dances.*

Steve Kaye entertained us with tales from his Millbrook Music Salon, another enterprise in the spirit of Andover Non Sibi. Enriching his community’s cultural life with performing artists like pianist and director Sophia Zhou, British pianist Mishka Momen Rushdie, American cellist Sterling Elliott, and Swiss Flutist Philipp Jundt, names posted on its website https://millbrookmusicsalon.org/. The class of 54’s Frederic Rzewski (d. 1921) is among the greats whose music is now enriching Steve’s life. Away from his Salon, Steve puts in time managing property where horses and cattle do the performing.

Harrison directed attention to his website https://davidclarkharrison.com/ where classmates can read about the life of Tom Hale (d. July 22, 2026), honored with Andover’s Humanitarian Award in 1974 for his Christian mission to the Himilayas of Nepal. A cause to which his surviving wife, Cynthia, was equally committed from the day they met in 1959.

Thrashings, physical and mental

Andover’s 59-0 thrashing of Exeter in 1952 still reverberates among us and the football heroics of upperclassman Hort Smith, our running back. Who terrified Harrison’s older brother Eric, an Exonian linebacker who had to tackle him. Haartz fondly recalled attending a number of Rose Bowl games in Pasadena including one with Tony Costello (d. 1983) and Larry Westfall.

Reflections on Andover faculty and courses brought admissions that some were an intellectual bridge too far. Fritz Allis’s college-level introduction to American History, where poring over Henry Steele Commager, Douglas Southall Freeman, Allan Nevins, and other luminaries in Holmes Library couldn’t get America’s story across to minds like Harrison’s, too callow to put it all together. Or Francis J. “Black Mac” McCarthy’s philosophy course, over Steve’s head too. Yet both courses indispensable to handling the intellectual challenges ahead, the mark of a superior education. Unforgettable.

On the horizon

There will be more Zoom opportunities at least three times a year in between publication of Andover Magazine. The next opportunity coming after the Fall / Winter issue arrives in December and before the Spring issue in May. That’s with the present setup. Virtual reunions can be arranged by anyone with a Zoom account and if that’s you, all it takes is to schedule it and Harrison will get the word out. Meantime, for traditionalists there’s always the class notes section in Andover Magazine.

One way or the other: staying connected.

Posted by Dave Harrison 08/21/26
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

*Harrison did contrive to meet an Abbott girl by taking dance lessons. His fox trot partner was Nancy Eastham (Iacobucci), the two destined to become their alma maters’ class secretaries.

Dr. Thomas Hale, Jr. October 1937 – July 22, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

After suffering intermittent palpitations, increasing weakness and shortness of breath, which required a brief hospitalization in June, Dr. Thomas Hale, Jr. died peacefully of coronary heart disease on July 22, 2026 in his longtime Loudonville, New York residence under the loving care of his wife and family, and with the support of The Community Hospice. He was 88.

Tom was born at Yale New Haven Hospital in October, 1937, where his father Dr. Thomas Hale was a surgical resident. Shortly afterwards, with his mother Mary, the family moved to Taos, New Mexico where Dr. Hale was the surgeon for the Pueblo community and the family lived in the home of the Taos Pueblo chief. Young Tommy grew up loving the mountains and the freedom of the wild open spaces.

During the war years, Dr. Hale (Sr.) was called upon to leave his surgical practice to take up the position of Director and Executive Vice President of the Albany Medical Center Hospital, where he served from 1942 to 1968. Young Tommy grew up in Slingerlands, New York, attending the elementary school there, and then the Albany Academy, until he moved on for senior high school to the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts.

There, during a stroll on a woodland path, Tom had an epiphany hard to describe in words where he clearly felt that God visited him and challenged his self-centered life and political ambitions to follow in the footsteps of his maternal grandfather James Magee, a Congressman from Pennsylvania. An observant Latin professor noticed the profound change in his student and invited him to a local church where he picked up a brochure about the opening of the United Mission to Nepal (UMN). At that time, for a population of eight million people, the country had only 50 doctors and 8 nurses; the mission was calling for medical professionals to rise up and take their skills and the Gospel of Jesus Christ to this remote Hindu kingdom. Tom immediately understood this as God’s calling for his life.

To pursue a pre-medical college education, Tom drove southwest where he enrolled in the University of Arizona in Tucson. After three undergraduate years reveling in the rugged landscapes similar to those he had experienced in early childhood, he entered Albany Medical College of Union University in Albany, New York. On the very first day he met his wife-to-be Cynthia over a body at the cadaver table. Acknowledging their shared commitment to Christian service abroad, they promptly fell in love; they married the next year on December 26, 1959 and then continued their training, Tom in surgery and Cynthia in pediatrics. During this period, they spent a summer in Thailand on Tom’s fellowship from Smith, Kline & French for study and service at a mission hospital in Thailand. This and other international experiences further confirmed the Hales’ calling to serve as followers of Jesus Christ in places of dire medical need.

The couple’s first son Thomas III was born in 1965, followed by Christopher Dicran in 1968, during which time Dr. Hale, Jr. was serving at the very busy 12th Evacuation Army Hospital in Cu Chi, Vietnam. A second year in the Army moved the family to the Southwest to Sandia Base Hospital in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Following the resolution of his youthful encounter with God, Dr. Hale, with his wife Cynthia and their two sons, aged four and one, were sent by their home church in Loudonville and the Bible & Medical Missionary Fellowship (now known as Interserve USA) to serve in the UMN’s newly opened hospital at Amp Pipal, a small mountainside settlement in the then roadless foothills of the Himalayas. In a demonstration of his love for his wife Cynthia, an accomplished concert pianist, Dr. Tom hiked three hours down the mountain to meet the plane carrying a small piano found in Kathmandu and guided the team of carriers up the mountain to their two-bedroom cottage at the hospital.

After 12 years as a successful surgeon in Amp Pipal, where Dr. Hale trained local youth to assist him in the Operating Room and OPD, God’s call morphed in another direction and Tom wrote a trilogy of “Adventures in Nepal,” the first volume of which, Don’t Let the Goats Eat the Loquat Trees, was published in 1986. The trilogy and other later books cast light on Dr. Hale’s compassionate character, his caring for humanity in need, his humor and his stalwart faith in Jesus Christ.

In 1985, several Nepali church leaders approached Dr. Tom to write a verse-by-verse commentary on the New Testament in the Nepali language. Tirtha Dhakal, a Nepali Christian, turned aside from a secure government job to become Dr. Tom’s assistant to ensure that the completed text would reflect the Nepali communication style. Dr. Dudley Henderson, a dentist with many years of service in Nepal, created a Nepali font by which Tirtha could type the text using a standard keyboard. Dr. Stephen Thorson, also a missionary doctor in Nepal, provided the General Articles for the volume, which was published by the Nepal Bible Society in Kathmandu in 1993. The two doctors then also wrote the commentary in English, primarily so that it could be translated into other languages. The Applied New Testament Commentary has now been translated into more than thirty languages. Much later, Dr. Hale and Dr. Thorson also wrote The Applied Old Testament Commentary in English; this has been translated into Chinese and Vietnamese.

During brief periods in the USA, the team of Doctors Tom and Cynthia Hale had traveled under the auspices of the Christian Medical & Dental Society (now CMDA) to speak in medical schools in the USA to motivate emerging physicians to use their skills in places of great need. When they returned from Nepal in 1996 to care for aging parents, they accepted the call from Interserve to travel broadly on behalf of the need for medical professionals to serve in a similar capacity in needy places around the world. During this period, the Doctors Hale joined Dr. David Topazian for a tour of fundraising dinner parties for Project MedSend. Dr. Tom issued the call to service and Dr. Cynthia provided the musical interlude. This helped MedSend to raise grants that would pay off the educational loans of hundreds healthcare professionals, thus freeing them to quickly leave the lure of an affluent career in America to serve in places of much greater need.

Dr. Tom never sought the spotlight; he always wanted credit to be given only to God. Nevertheless, the following awards are worthy of mention: the Phillips Academy’s Alumni Award for Humanitarian Service in 1974, Albany Medical College’s Humanitarian Alumnus Award in 1996, alongside his wife Dr. Cynthia Hale, the Excellence in Media organization’s International Angel Award in 1998 for The Applied New Testament Commentary, and the Christian Medical & Dental Society’s Servant of Christ Award in 1998 (again, with his wife Cynthia.) 

Using their fluency in Nepali, the Doctors Hale were instrumental in forming the International Friendship Team of their church in Loudonville to help them in the resettlement of more than 500 refugees of Nepali ethnicity who arrived in Albany, New York from 2008 onwards. In full retirement in Loudonville, Tom enjoyed soccer tournaments on TV and lived to see the winners of the 2026 World Cup. He loved classical music, often singing along as Cynthia played hymns or Chopin Nocturnes, and listening at high volume to recordings of romantic music, and especially operas by his favorite composers, Giuseppe Verdi, Richard Strauss and Richard Wagner. 

Dr. Hale is survived by his wife Cynthia, their sons Thomas (Becki) of Loudonville, New York, and Christopher (Miranda Stone) of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, a sister Polly (Peter) of Berlin, Massachusetts, a sister Jenifer of Keene, New York, grandsons Thomas (Julie) of New York, New York, and Gregory (Caitlin) of La Mirada, California, and many nieces and nephews. 

A service of Thanksgiving and Celebration of Dr. Hale’s life will take place on August 8, 2026 at 1 p.m. at the Loudonville Community Church, 374 Loudon Road, Loudonville, New York where he served as an Elder from 2007 – 2012. The service will be live-streamed on the church’s Youtube channel. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests donations be made to the Loudonville Community Church or to Interserve USA, P.O. Box 418, Upper Darby, Pennsylvania 19082.

https://www.youtube.com/@loudonvillecommunitychurch https://lcchurch.churchcenter.com/givinghttps://www.interserveusa.org/donate/

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PA ’55 Class Notes Summer 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

Roger Algase: As a Harvard Law graduate in 1963 I was working for Clarence B. Jones, a partner in a small civil rights law firm in NYC and a close associate of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It was under his direction that I prepared and filed the US copyright application for Dr. King’s immortal “I Have a Dream” speech in 1963.  This was after, at Mr. Jones’ direction, getting permission from one of Dr. King’s associates at the Southern Christian Leadership Conference in Atlanta to change a couple of lines in Dr. King’s speech that didn’t quite fit in with my Harvard English grammar. When I told the SCLC what I wanted to do, I half expected them to say, “Who  the hell do you think you are, young man!” But what they actually said was: “You can go ahead and change anything you want. Martin doesn’t care.” So I did.

Doug Fisher: Kate and I are leaving on a family Safari with 8 people to Tanzania soon (this July) and then we’ll celebrate Kate’s 91st birthday on July 20.

On the writing of his book: African American Doctors of World War I: The Lives of 104 Volunteers, by W.  Douglas Fisher and Joann H. Buckley (McFarland & Company, 284 pp., 2015), available at Barnes & Noble and on Amazon: “(Joann’s) curiosity led me to take a broader focus on the history revealing much more about the courageous black troops who volunteered and served in combat in France. When she learned about the black doctor, Dr. Rucker, who served under my grandfather, she asked a simple question. ‘Was he the only black doctor who served in the war?’ I had no answer. While doing our early Rucker research we learned he attended a training camp for black doctors at Fort Des Moines. . . . Medical Officers Training Camp – Colored (MOTC – Colored). . . . [T]here was nothing about the individual trainees who participated (in the) . . . report written by the Camp Commander, a white physician. . . .

“We searched for two solid weeks (at the National Archives). . . . [C]art after cart of storage boxes filled with file folders . . . from WWI. Many had not been looked at for 70 years. . . . As we prepared to give up, Joann was looking through the very last storage box. . . (and) observed that the last document was unusual. . . two pages wide, almost four feet long . . . . (The) Heading read: TABLE OF MEDICAL RESERVE CORPS – COLORED – RECEIVING INSTRUCTION, MEDICAL TRAINING CAMP, FORT DES MOINES, IOWA. . . . This ‘Lost’ Roster contained names, hometowns, ages, medical colleges with graduation dates, training dates at camp, the number of days they received instruction, and their next assignments. They all arrived there as 1st Lieutenants in the Army Medical Reserve Corps. They were already educated, experienced doctors and all they needed was training in how the U.S. Army operates both in peacetime and in wartime combat. . . .

“[W]e devoted the next six years to developing biographies for every one of them. . . . One evening we ran into (Harvard) Professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. by accident . . . at the Mayflower Hotel in D.C. . . . He . . . asked us (for) more information about our project and. . . later (included) 15 of our bios in his newest edition of “African American National Biography.” . . . During 2016 we made more than a half dozen formal book presentations for various groups of readers and scholars. . . . Our audience was usually dumbstruck just to learn that 400,000 black Americans served in the Army during WWI, and that 40,000 of them were combat troops who fought valiantly and suffered heavy losses. . . . After the war, with the Army’s demobilization, their efforts were largely forgotten. We welcomed the chance to tell their story.”   Excerpted from Memoirs William Douglas Fisher: My Life so Far. . . (Self-published, 313 pp 2023), pp. 188-189, 214, 218, 226.

Walt Howe and wife are working on a PA ’55 Zoom meeting.

Steve Kaye: I’m working on a scheme to host five players from the Berlin Phil to play with our resident pianist at Millbrook Music Salon millbrookmusicsalon.org. We have the Balourdet Quartet coming this weekend, three of whom will be staying chez nous, they are of that statifyric world of fine artistry. They will be joined by our resident pianist and music director Sophia Zhou to make a quintet. They will be playing at a local church in the village.

Don Oasis: Ellen and I will summer in Saratoga Springs for the racing season. If any of you are close please call 978 394-1131.

Peter Parsons: I read about the monster 7.8 earthquake in faraway Basilan June 7.  We felt no quakes up here in Baguio. During WWII my dad went ashore in Basilan to visit a sugar warehouse only to find himself getting shot at by Japanese! I’m planning my next book, a compilation of these WWII events. Starting with the one in which the neighborhood kids nominated me to be their designated hangee, as in a western movie we had all seen. This was in Manila just before WWII descended upon us.

More on my website from John Carswell and Jack Doykos plus obituaries for John Daly, Ben Dorman, Charlie Helliwell, Gerry Jones, and David Page.

Non Sibi! – Dave

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

John Carswell: “Tom Burns and I saw demonstrated the so-called thermite reaction in [‘Weary’] Weaver’s chemistry lab – a Sudden Heat Delight. We heisted the powders back to Twink Catlett’s and my room [2nd floor Adams Hall North] and its working fireplace, where we caused these timid-seeming chemicals to ignite, predictably, like young lovers in the high heat of passion. Serious fire and heat! A bit of carpet was scorched, a bit of floor to boot. A stink ensued and Tom and I hoisted windows and fanned like mad. Mr. Hulburd must have been out coaching. The adrenal rush is obviously to blame for my life of sneaky misdeeds and mad adventures – if only in my over-charged imagination.” [Excerpt from letter last October]

Jack Doykos: Joanna and I just returned to Rye Beach where we live about 800 yards from Steve Clarkson in the summer and about 1200 yards from him in the winter at PGA National in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida. Also at PGA National we are lucky enough to have a couple get together with Doug and Kate Fisher frequently. I speak with John Palmer and am fortunate enough in the summer to have a couple rounds of golf with him, often at his Portland country club in Maine.

Doug Fisher on the Writing of “African American Doctors of World War I”

Posted on by David Harrison

Doug Fisher on the writing of his book: African American Doctors of World War I: The Lives of 104 Volunteers, by W. Douglas Fisher and Joann H. Buckley (McFarland & Company, 284 pp., 2015)

[Amazon overview: In World War I, 104 African American doctors joined the United States Army to care for the 40,000 men of the 92nd and 93rd Divisions, the Army’s only black combat units. The infantry regiments of the 93rd arrived first and were turned over to the French to fill gaps in their decimated lines. The 92nd Division came later and fought alongside other American units. Some of those doctors rose to prominence; others died young or later succumbed to the economic and social challenges of the times. Beginning with their assignment to the Medical Officers Training Camp (Colored)–the only one in U.S. history–this book covers the early years, education and war experiences of these physicians, as well as their careers in the black communities of early 20th century America.]

“(Joann’s) curiosity led me to take a broader focus on the history revealing much more about the courageous black troops who volunteered and served in combat in France. When she learned about the black doctor, Dr. Rucker, who served under my grandfather, she asked a simple question. ‘Was he the only black doctor who served in the war?’ I had no answer. While doing our early Rucker research we learned he attended a training camp for black doctors at Fort Des Moines. . . . Medical Officers Training Camp – Colored (MOTC – Colored). . . . [T]here was nothing about the individual trainees who participated (in the) . . . report written by the Camp Commander, a white physician. . . .

“We searched for two solid weeks (at the National Archives). [C]art after cart of storage boxes filled with file folders . . . from WWI. Many had not been looked at for 70 years (since 1940). . . . As we prepared to give up, Joann was looking through the very last storage box. . . (and) observed that the last document was unusual. . . two pages wide, almost four feet long and . . . glued together. . . . (The) Heading read: TABLE OF MEDICAL RESERVE CORPS – COLORED – RECEIVING INSTRUCTION, MEDICAL TRAINING CAMP, FORT DES MOINES, IOWA. . . . This ‘Lost’ Roster contained names, hometowns, ages, medical colleges with graduation dates, training dates at camp, the number of days they received instruction, and their next assignments. They all arrived there as 1st Lieutenants in the Army Medical Reserve Corps. They were already educated, experienced doctors and all they needed was training in how the U.S. Army operates both in peacetime and in wartime combat.

“[W]e devoted the next six years to developing biographies for every one of them, including their military service experience. . . . One evening we ran into (Harvard) Professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. by accident . . . at the Mayflower Hotel in D.C. . . . He . . . asked us (for) more information about our project and. . . later (included) 15 of our bios in his newest edition of “African American National Biography.” . . . McFarland Books. . . . recommended we announce and release the book in early December 2015. . . . It’s now available at Barnes & Noble and on Amazon! . . . During 2016 we made more than a half dozen formal book presentations for various groups of readers and scholars. . . . Our audience was usually dumbstruck just to learn that 400,000 black Americans served in the Army during WWI, and that 40,000 of them were combat troops who fought valiantly and suffered heavy losses. . . . After the war, with the Army’s demobilization, their efforts were largely forgotten. We welcomed the chance to tell their story.”

Excerpted from Memoirs William Douglas Fisher: My Life so Far. . . (Self-published, 313 pp 2023), pp. 188-189, 214, 218, 226.

Doug Fisher on his two years at Andover 1953-1955

Posted on by David Harrison

Excerpted from Memoirs: William Douglas Fisher. My Life so Far. . . (313 pp. illustrated, 2023)

On getting adjusted. . .

“New England was absolutely nothing like Arizona or Nebraska. The first thing I noticed was everyone wore tweeds and khaki’s instead of blue jeans and T-shirts. . . . The wine-red corduroy jacket and bright blue gabardine slacks [Mom] bought me looked nothing like what I encountered at Andover. I felt very self-conscious, and it took me a couple of months to convince my folks to pay for a tweed jacket and khakis. . . . Sherwood K. (Woody) Freeman . . . was from the San Francisco Bay area. . . bright, droll, amusing, and very unconventional. He dressed in the Bay area ‘cool’ clothing styles, not East Coast tweedy, and looked very much out of place. . . . He said he felt like he was on another planet at Andover. . . and didn’t return for his senior year.”

“I met Fred Pownall from Milford, Connecticut who lived at the opposite end of my dorm. Our acquaintanceship developed into a life-long friendship during our two years at Andover, four years at Princeton and two years in the military in Washington, D.C. . . . I will never forget one of our first conversations when Fred asked me where I lived. When I said Omaha, Nebraska he had a shocked look on his face and asked where the hell is that? As I tried to describe the location, he admitted his knowledge of U.S. geography ended at the Hudson River in New York and resumed at San Francisco in California. In his mind, everything in between was just open plains and Indian villages.”

On pranks large and small . . .

“One major prank engineered by a boy in our dorm named Dave Moore has become a classic in Andover school history. . . . It involved a fair number of students and required a number of steps to pull it off. The main north-south highway was blocked off and all the vehicles (cars, trucks, buses, etc.) going north were rerouted east through all the main campus buildings, past faculty housing and classrooms, before being redirected back onto the highway. Traffic traveling south was all rerouted into the West Quad, past faculty homes, past six large dormitories, and down a long, winding dead-end road called Hidden Field Road. The dead-end created an enormous back up. We watched with glee from our windows as the traffic problem grew worse and worse. It was dark, headlights were on, horns were blaring, and people were trying to back up or turn around but there was no room for that. The traffic just kept coming until some smart truck drivers figured out that they had to move the detour signs to let traffic flow south again. Even then it took several hours for all the trucks and cars down the dead-end lane to back out.

“The perpetrators were never identified or caught. They had repurposed local highway construction signs and A-frame barricades to create the detours and roadblocks quickly and managed to do it all after 8:00 PM when the campus was virtually empty except for a few people returning to their dorms from the library. Because so many people crossed the campus from the library during the time it took to put everything in place, it was impossible to identify the culprits. We laughed our heads off for hours watching it all develop and unwind. Pranking was an artform in the ‘olden’ days.”

[For another account see 1955 class note by Steve Clarkson in the Spring 2026 issue of Andover Magazine, p. 46. Lightly edited and reproduced on this website under the title “Down a Road Named Hidden Field: THE Story of the Great Route 28 Detour Caper?” https://davidclarkharrison.com/2025/10/06/down-a-road-named-hidden-field/.]

“The old fire escapes consisted of coils of long fire ropes that hung next to our windows on hooks. The ropes had a sling to slide over your head and under your arms  to lower yourself to the ground. . . . The fire rope . . . enabled a couple of classmates to empty all the furniture out of a 3rd floor [Taylor Hall] dorm room used by a student nicknamed ‘TODO’ (pronounced TOE DOE) short for his full name, Tony Doherty.  When TODO came back from the library one night, he found his door upside down on its hinges and his third-floor room entirely empty. All he could find inside was his fire rope trailing out the window. Pranksters had tied all his furniture (desk, chair, dresser, and bed) to the rope using his neckties, towels, and underwear and then pushed it all out the window.

“We huddled inside our rooms waiting to see what would happen. All hell broke loose when the Housemaster looked outside his downstairs window and saw TODO’s furniture. He never was able to determine who among his 20 charges was responsible, but we all had to help restore TODO’s room. I felt too new to initiate my own pranks, but I was a willing, helpful observer and kept my mouth shut.”

“Senor Merriam, my Spanish instructor was another real character. . . . I recall Merriam accidentally throwing his shoe through an open second story window while trying to gain the attention of one of the students who was distracted. Everyone got a great laugh out of it, including him. The boy who was the target for his shoe was sent downstairs to fetch it. Even funnier, the target student was Les Blank, the center on our football team, a big man with a great sense of humor. To taunt Senor Merriam, Les wore a necktie to class that hung down from his collar to the floor. It satisfied the tie requirement and everyone got a great kick out of it.”

On girls. . .

“Andover was an all-male school in those years so activities with the opposite sex usually occurred at home while on vacation. The school did organize a few ‘tea dances’ with nearby girls’ schools but they were formal and closely watched. There was a well-known Burlesque Theater called the ‘Old Howard’ near the railroad station in Boston where students with time to kill between trains often spent an hour or two. The social environment at school was constrained and we were encouraged to work out excess energy in sports and studies, not always easy to do.”

“One time I thought I discovered a new path to social engagement by joining the Glee Club. The group traveled to girls’ schools to serenade the young ladies. My only stage career prior to that had been dancing the ‘Can-Can’ in a wild costumed dance line on stage in Tucson. Here I joined 39 young men and spent six weeks learning to sing together. I sang first base because by then my voice had changed. The Glee Club director [Willie Schneider] listened carefully as we polished our production for the road. Something bothered him and he decided to listen to each boy sing his part individually. All 39 of us had our turn. After listening to us sing he decided to perform it without my voice, and it came together perfectly. I was deeply disappointed because we were only a week from our first performance at Dana Hall in Wellesley and I had worked hard to learn all the songs. [“If I Loved You,” Rodgers & Hammerstein (Carousel, May 1945) performed at Dana Hall.]  My disappointment came not so much because I loved singing but because I wouldn’t be able to travel and meet young girls. Anyone who has ever heard me sing in person understands the Glee Club director’s decision, especially my children.”

“When the cold weather came, I decided to learn an outdoor winter sport and chose ice skating. I volunteered and worked as one of the assistant managers on the varsity ice hockey team. . . . Our hockey team manager, Walton J. McLeod, III, . . . didn’t know how to ice skate and we learned the hard way. Walt became a close friend in 1954 and that close friendship has continued more than 65 years. He went to Yale, then law school becoming an attorney and politician in South Carolina where I met his family and toured the state meeting relatives and friends. He fixed me up with a date, the lovely ‘Miss Chesterfield County’ in Cheraw, SC and introduced me to a nurse in Waterboro whose mission was to bring young men into manhood. Later Walt had the chance to meet my family. We’ve always had a lot of fun. Until recently, we saw one another annually, either in South Carolina or Florida.”

“Eighteen years after I graduated in 1955, Andover became coeducational (in 1973). I’ve always felt a bit envious of the students since then.”

On the joys of drinking. . .

“The travel from Omaha and Andover usually involved a long, tiring two-day passenger train ride. . . . [T]he second leg was from Chicago to New York (aboard the well-known 20th Century Limited). . . the best part. It was an Express passenger train with amenities and because the drinking age in New York State was 18, I was able to buy beer and drinks when the train passed through the state. My schoolmates aboard the train would try to buy enough ‘inventory’ in New York to last the rest of the trip.”

“Another friend was Hewitt Brown, a very funny man from Louisville, Kentucky. We were both cigarette smoking pool players and shared many laughs. Once we rode the train together going home at the end of the school year. The trained stopped in Louisville on its way to Chicago and I was invited to stay over with him for a weekend. Hewitt had an older brother at Yale and his father was an insurance man and active in the local country club. One night we dressed up and went there for an annual ‘Kentucky Derby’ social event. Although the drinking age was 21, and we were still teenagers, we had free access to everything being served. We used his family membership number to charge food and some drinks. Hewitt didn’t want his parents to know about the liquor we drank so he ordered drinks using a fictitious name and fake club membership number. It worked like a charm and his older brother covered for us when we got drunk. I know we had a wonderful time but don’t recall much about it. We always wondered if anyone was ever billed.”

“After my graduation in 1955, I returned to Omaha for the summer and operated the Class VI liquor store on the [Offutt] Air Force base. This was a really busy but fun summer job. What a great graduation gift!”

On playing too much pool. . .

“During my second trimester, I became more engaged in the social aspects of school. I started hanging around with some guys just talking and smoking cigarettes outside our dining hall. I played pool more than I studied and became 2nd best pool shark in our class, just behind Tony Roosevelt, a brilliant student who left Andover for college in 11th grade and finished Medical School in record time. That was not the case with me. My academic rank tumbled down to 210 out of 215 students. The dean of the school wrote to Dad saying ‘Doug has given a lot to Andover during his first two terms here, but he hasn’t let Andover give him much. If he doesn’t improve his performance substantially in the final term this year, he will not be invited back for his senior year.’

“The jig was up! Dad reminded me I was now 16 years old, and at 17 years old I would be old enough to enlist in the Army as a private and he assured me I had parental permission to do so. . . . I got back to work and managed to survive that year, returned to finish my senior year, and was accepted into Princeton. . . . I still played pool occasionally, but not much. Some friendships from my senior year have extended for many years, including one with Art Hotchkiss, a very good athlete who became a successful dentist and oral surgeon. We, along with a few other aging classmates, still try to golf together once each summer at Bald Peak in New Hampshire

On what Andover meant. . .

“My two years of education at Phillips Academy completely changed the direction of my life. It showed me possibilities and opened doors for me I never knew existed. It was the best ‘gift’ my parents ever gave me, along with their unending love.”

David Douglas Fong December 7, 1937 – February 2024

Posted on by David Harrison

Dear Mr. Harrison,

I am remiss in not having notified your class that my husband David Fong passed away in February 2024 in San Luis Obispo, CA, where we had lived since 2000.

David was born in Shanghai, and his family then emigrated to Brazil in 1951.

He came to Andover as a foreign student and was one of the very few Asians attending—not always easy. But he appreciated the solid academic preparation for his studies at Wesleyan and Stanford.

He earned a PhD in English literature at Stanford in 1967 and taught in Hawaii, Los Angeles and  Bellevue, WA. He met a lifelong friend at Andover: Richard Bergmann of Mill Valley, CA, who died in 2015.

Sincerely,

Susan Fong

Gerard E. Jones January 23, 1937 – February 10, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

Woodstock, VT – A devoted reader, dog-lover, friend, husband, and father, Gerard Jones (Gerry) died on February 10th, 2026, at age 89. Sometimes right but never indecisive, Gerry was quick to answer the phone with an opinion on everything from the Yankees’ newest fielder, the 1923 collapse of the Ottoman Empire, or that day’s politics.

Born in 1937 in Cleveland, Ohio, to Richard and Betty Jones, Gerry spent his early childhood years in Shaker Heights and Winnetka, Illinois. When he was 12, Gerry’s family moved to Greenwich, Connecticut, where he learned to love history at Greenwich Country Day School and lace his skates on the pond beyond his house.

In 1952, Gerry headed to Phillips Academy Andover for high school, where he dove into American History, sports, and leadership opportunities. He took advantage of a fortuitous vacancy on their ice hockey team; a Thanksgiving break spent deflecting pucks in football cleats prepared Gerry to return to Andover as a goaltender, a position at which he would excel throughout high school and college. Along with stopping 66 pucks in a record-setting game against St. Lawrence, Gerry became the first ACHA All-American in Ice Hockey at Yale before he graduated in 1959.

After Yale, Gerard enlisted in the Navy, where he served for two years, touring Southeast Asia on a minesweeper before attending Yale Law School. He met his soon-to-be wife, Emily (Graves) Jones, during the summer of 1963. They married in the summer of 1965 and moved back to Greenwich, where they raised three daughters.

Every morning for twenty-five years, Gerry hopped the pre-dawn train to NYC, where he was a founding law partner of Richards and O’Neil during the busy 1980s world of mergers-and-acquisitions. In 1990, he started his own firm, Arch Street Law, in Greenwich. Nights found him relaxing in front of a Yankee or Rangers game while shamelessly sneaking Ben and Jerry’s spoonfuls to the dogs at his feet.

In addition to planting daffodils and caring for his favorite dogwood trees, Gerry loved competing against his friends in tennis and golf, and in boisterous Sunday-morning touch football games, earning the nickname “Give-and-Go” Jones. His daughters (and many of their closest friends) count themselves lucky to have learned ice hockey from Gerry; from 1978 to 1990, Coach Jones pioneered the Girls’ Ice Hockey program at the Greenwich Skating Club, encouraging young women to join the team and “play the body.”

The allure of living in Vermont full-time drew Emily and Gerry to Woodstock for their retirement. Watching the river from his deck, waving at neighbors, and having dinner outdoors with his wife and new friends brought Gerry great joy. In this phase of life, Gerry was also fortunate to realize long-held dreams of teaching history through Dartmouth’s ILEAD program. Gerry and Emily also immersed themselves in history by traveling. Whether exploring cathedrals in St. Petersburg, summiting mountains in France and Africa, or skiing in Utah, Gerry was invested–companions appreciated the knowledge he shared, and that, despite his enthusiasm, Gerry would be packed and “just ready to go home to his dogs” a few days before the trip was over.

Gerry taught his daughters to support what they loved; his many volunteer positions included serving as a Trustee for Andover, a member of the Board of the Vermont Law School, and chairman of the Board of the Nature Conservancy of Vermont.

Of all these jobs and roles, however, few rivaled being a grandfather. When his seven grandsons would come to Vermont, Gerry was there, ready to babysit, host a holiday, ask about each boy’s classes, friends, and interests, and chef up crispy, crepe-like pancakes. One lifelong friend described Gerry as “one with rare emotional intelligence, someone who could connect people both personally and professionally. He was always cheerful–optimistic, almost to a fault.” Another noted, “he was the consummate friend, as loyal as a Labrador.” Gerry was an organizer, always there for everyone. He will be greatly missed.

Gerry is survived by his daughters, Ginna (Anders Halverson) and Leila (Nick Shields), and by seven grandsons: Will, Charlie, and Toby Halverson; Theo, Henry, and Cyrus Shields; and Spencer Jones. He was predeceased by his daughter, Cathy Jones (Dave White), and his wife, Emily Jones. A service will be held at 2:30 pm on Friday, April 24, at St. James Episcopal Church (2 St. James Place, Woodstock, Vermont).

— Valley News  03/26/26

Call for Andover ’55 class notes Summer 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

To my PA ’55 classmates and their partners in life and love,

The window of opportunity has opened for sounding off in Andover Magazine’s summer issue. Those who can may email their thoughts to 74apollo350@gmail.com. Those who can’t may do so by phone (303) 746-5983 or by regular mail (address below). By June 26 if you please.

Those who would like to stay connected via Zoom meetings Walt Howe and I would like to know. He’s at walt@walthowe.com / 781-932-8240 (Maryland). If there’s enough interest a classmate can volunteer to host meetings at our convenience or school staff can do it at their convenience. The Spring issue has Walt’s thought along with a call for volunteers.

On a serious note 

When we’re not touched by our own lives at the moment — when we’re not moved to share from our own experience — we can be touched by others’. Like Edith Eger’s life that ended recently. A Holocaust survivor, friend of Viktor Frankl, and psychotherapist, who wrote The Choice: Embrace the Possible (2017). A testament to the value of character and family being there for one another. To usefulness that chooses how to take a hit rather than just reacting to it.

A reflection on what matters: timeless, relevant, and moving. And a prompt for our class’s reflection. But one among many that can be used to do what seniority does best: share its wit and wisdom to guide the less experienced. In a class note if not anywhere else. The vague idea that entered my mind when I looked across the quad from my room in Rockwell House toward Bishop Hall. A dorm for seniors. Role models for how it’s done. Character being there for family. 

And not so serious

Joie de vivre has been the motif for the last few issues but that could change. Heading into summer Walter Winchell will no longer be culling gossip for his column from backstage at GW Hall. Where he’s been mingling with the glitterati and literati of Broadway and our class, as he did when he hung out at Sherman Billingsley’s Stork Club. He’ll be taking up residence at another venue across campus where he can mingle with another element. The Mob. Wise guys in on the hustle, shooting pool in the basement of the Commons. Smoking cigarettes.

You know who you are. Tough guys. Hustlers. The kind Winchell kept track of with his police radio. Who until now have been shunned by our class notes. But no more. Your chance to make the big time is here. With notice in the NY Daily Mirror and enough swagger to blow the lid off Sam Phillips Hall. Courtesy of a class secretary who’s all heart. A secret admirer who wished he too could wear dirty white bucks but never had the courage.

To the memory of four who did us proud: John Daly, Ben Dorman, Charlie Helliwell, and David Page. Pillars of support for country and community, family and friends. Exemplary lives that earned the support they were given in return. You can read about them on my website. Four more reasons why I’m honored to be your class secretary.

Dave Harrison
74apollo350@gmail.com / (303) 746-5983 / https://www.davidclarkharrison.com
2210 Nelson Ave. Apt. A  Redondo Beach, CA 90278-2428

Charles Harold Helliwell Jr. October 29, 1937 – April 16, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

Charles Harold Helliwell, Jr. (“Charlie”), 88, passed away peacefully on April 16, 2026, leaving behind a life defined by devotion to family, service, and community. Born October 29, 1937, in New York City, he was the son of the late Charles Harold Helliwell and Nanette Green Helliwell.

Charlie is survived by his beloved wife of 66 years, Karen Roggenkamp Helliwell, with whom he shared homes in Dover, MA, Cape Cod, and Vero Beach, FL. He is also survived by his sister, Sally Helliwell Harper, and her husband, Jack Harper, of Tyler, Texas.

He was a proud and devoted father to Jennifer Helliwell Stoner and her husband, Dick Stoner, of Sherborn, MA; their son, Keaton Stoner of Cambridge, MA; and their daughter, Micayla Stoner Cissel and her husband, Woody Cissel, of Key Biscayne, FL, and their children, Sawyer and Annabelle Cissel.

He was also the loving father of Holly Helliwell Fabyan and her husband, Mark McHugh, of Manchester-by-the-Sea, MA, and Boston; her son, Wesley Fabyan of Seattle, WA; and her daughter, Alyssa Fabyan Brockbank and her husband, Chris Brockbank, of Virgin Gorda, BVI, and their children, Kolie and Elsie Brockbank.

He was sadly predeceased by his son, Charles Harold Helliwell III (“Trey”), in 2001.

Charlie’s early years included a humble start in a two-room schoolhouse in Randolph, New Jersey, followed by boarding school at Phillips Academy Andover on a work scholarship, where he graduated in 1955 with the Aurelian Honor Society distinction. He next attended Princeton University on a Navy scholarship, earning a B.S. in Civil Engineering in 1959. Just four days after graduating, he married his childhood sweetheart, Karen, and the two began their life together with a cross-country drive to San Diego for his service as a Naval Engineering Officer. He served as a Lieutenant (j.g.) aboard the USS Paul Revere, working as a main propulsion engineer.

After completing his military service, Charlie earned a M.S. degree in Civil Engineering from MIT. He went on to a distinguished career in management consulting before spending over 20 years as Deputy Director of the Center for Construction Research & Engineering at MIT. There, he contributed to international infrastructure projects, including desalination and development work across the Far East.

Charlie and his family made their home in Dover, MA, where he was deeply involved in civic life, serving on the Warrant Committee and as a Selectman, volunteering as an EMT, participating in church leadership, and supporting the Dover Foundation.

A lifelong boater, Charlie’s happiest moments were spent on the water either sailing in Tiger Lily or putting around in Tiger Tender. Beginning in 1965, summers in Harwich Port became a cherished family tradition. At Stone Horse Yacht Club, he served in many roles, including Commodore (1983-1984), and was a dedicated mentor to novice sailors. He also enjoyed many years as a member of Dedham Country and Polo Club and later Eastward Ho, where he embraced golf and Cape Cod life in retirement.

Charlie will be remembered for his steady leadership, generous spirit, and enduring love for his family, community, and the sea.

A Celebration of Life will be held on June 28, 2026, at 3:00 p.m., at Saint Christopher’s Church, 625 Main Street, Chatham, MA.

David Nelson Page June 5, 1937 – February 15, 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

David Nelson Page, 88, a resident of Vero Beach, FL, and Sunapee, NH, passed away peacefully at home on Sunday, February 15, 2026. David was born on June 5, 1937, in Manhattan, the first son of Mary Auchincloss Page and Nelson Lawrence Page.

Raised in Darien, CT, David attended St. Luke’s School and later Phillips Andover Academy, graduating in 1955. He went on to earn a degree in Art History from Brown University in 1959 and completed his formal education at the Yale University School of Architecture in 1963.

David met the love of his life, Lee Porter, in 1964 while both were attendants in a friend’s wedding. As they walked down the aisle together, he turned to her and said, “This is not the last time we’ll be walking down the aisle,” foretelling nearly six decades of love and devotion. They married two years later, in July 1966.

David’s architectural career spanned forty years, most of it in southern New Hampshire. After beginning at a small firm, he opened his own practice in 1979 — PMR Architects in Nashua, NH. What began as a firm of two grew into one of the state’s larger and more respected architectural practices. Under David’s tireless leadership, PMR specialized in large-scale government projects, as well as commercial buildings and residential homes. It’s nearly impossible to drive through New Hampshire without seeing structures that bear his influence.

A selfless volunteer and philanthropist, David served as treasurer of both the Unitarian Church of Nashua, NH, and later the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Vero Beach, FL. A dedicated Rotarian for more than thirty years, he could be found each winter volunteering at Nashua’s annual Christmas tree fundraiser and supporting countless Rotary programs. He also gave generously to his alma maters and to the schools attended by his children and grandchildren.

Besides his family, David’s greatest passion was ocean sailing. In his younger years, he crewed in multiple Newport-Bermuda races and crossed the Atlantic Ocean at least twice. A proud member of the Cruising Club of America, he often served as an inspector of racing sailboats. David also belonged to the Yale Club of New York, the Brown Club of Vero Beach, the Lake Sunapee Yacht Club, and the Moorings Club of Vero Beach — organizations whose missions he actively supported.

David was predeceased by his mother, Mary; his father, Nelson; and his sister, Catherine Agnew Page of Jackson, MS. He is survived by his beloved wife, Lee Porter Page; his brother, John France Page, of Arlington, MA; and two sons, David Agnew Page (Laura) of Wenham, MA, and Andrew Donald Page of Kittery, ME. He also leaves five cherished grandchildren — Eleanor Lee Page, Mary Royce Page, Ann Cooper Page, Lila Elizabeth Page, and William David Page whom he loved and supported dearly.

A celebration of David’s life will be held this summer in New Hampshire. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorial gifts be made to the Lake Sunapee Protective Association, P.O. Box 683, Sunapee, NH 03782.

Benjamin H. Dorman 2 January 1938 – 28 March 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Benjamin H. Dorman, a beloved husband, father, grandfather, and friend, who died suddenly following a brief illness on 28 March 2026. He was 88 years old.

Ben was a man of remarkable character whose warmth, quiet wisdom, and distinguished career touched the lives of all who knew him. Born in Massachusetts on 2 January 1938, Ben was the eldest son of Ben and Alice Dorman, and is survived by his younger brother Merrill, a former US Navy Commander. He attended Phillips Academy, Andover, before going on to Stanford University, where he read Political Science, graduating in 1959 and he subsequently earned his Juris Doctor from the UCLA School of Law in 1966.

Ben practised law for over 63 years. Admitted to the California Bar in 1963, he began his career as an Associate Attorney at Adams, Duque & Hazeltine in Los Angeles before joining the legal department of Fluor Corporation, a leading international engineering and construction company. This chapter of his career took him across the world: to London, where he established the company’s European legal support office in 1972; to Saudi Arabia, where he served as Vice President of Fluor Arabia Limited; and to the Netherlands, where he held the position of Manager of Sales for Fluor Europe. He later returned to London as Vice President of Marketing before leaving Fluor in 1985.

In 1985, Ben established his own private legal practice in the Greater London area, advising both UK and US companies on a wide range of commercial matters including engineering contracts, joint ventures, property development, employment law, and corporate mergers and acquisitions. He was admitted as a Solicitor to the Supreme Court of England and Wales in 1994, and remained an active member of both The Law Society and the California Bar. He served as Legal Adviser to Project Management International Plc from 1987 to 1992, and continued in private practice right up to his passing.

In 1966, Ben married Jonnie Wright, a partnership of nearly 60 years and together they raised two children: Andrew (born 1969) and Lauren (born 1971). Andrew is married to Jamie and they have three daughters — Madeleine, Chloe, and Sophie — and live in California. Lauren is married to Moz Gamble and they have two children, Zac and Rosie, and live nearby in Ascot. Ben was enormously proud of his family and cherished every moment with them.

Ben was a man of remarkable energy and wide-ranging passions. He was an accomplished golfer — formerly captain at the Wentworth Club — and a committed tennis player who had represented Stanford at collegiate level. He ran three marathons, including twice in London and once in Paris, and was both an avid skier and a qualified glider pilot. Travel was another passion and he and Jonnie travelled extensively, exploring the world with their family. Music was another lifelong joy. Ben was a member of the Royal Harmonics Barbershop group and the Windsor and Eton Choral Society, where he served as Treasurer. He was also a devoted supporter of animals — his home was never without beloved rescue dogs — and a committed philanthropist, donating to numerous causes including Guide Dogs for the Blind, the Thames Valley Ambulance Service, the RSPCA, and several children’s cancer charities. He served as a Board Member of TASIS England school and was a passionate advocate for education. He was a very proud alumni of Phillips Academy and Stanford University and supported them throughout his life.

Ben Dorman will be profoundly missed by his wife Jonnie, his children Andrew and Lauren, his grandchildren, extended family and friends.

Funeral Service 

The funeral service will be held on Wednesday, 7 May 2026 at 12:00 noon British Summer Time At St Michael and All Angels Church, Sunningdale, Berkshire, UK. For those who are unable to attend in person, the service will be livestreamed at: https://funeral-av.co.uk/ben-dorman-thursday-7th-may-2026. The service will be available to watch for up to 3 months.

PA ’55 Class Notes Spring 2026

Posted on by David Harrison

From the desk of Mother Hen:

Most of the following notes will appear in the Spring issue of Andover Magazine subject to the magazine’s 900-word count per class. Subject also to editor discretion. While Steve Clarkson’s name is already well-represented his account of the Great Route 28 Detour Caper is not. It’s been waiting for over seventy years to come to light. Like the role model he is, of love of Andover and loyalty to the Royal Blue, Steve offered to yield space but I’ve resisted. Like the prank itself, its story required effort. Conscientious attention to detail that’s all the more remarkable for making it through the years intact. A bravo performance that deserves top billing. But not using up all the space on the marquee. Striking a balance, and if it’s not perfect there’s always my website. All the news that’s fit to print. 

This issue’s class notes includes a call for a volunteer or volunteers to host Zoom meetings to help us stay connected.  An idea broached by Walt Howe in his note below. If you’re interested please let him know, or you can email me. Many thanks!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dil Cannon, MD January 28, 2026, 4;20 pm email to class secretary

Good hearing from you. My email address is connected to this email [forwarded to Alumni-Records@andover.edu].

John Carswell Letters to class secretary (edited)

09/30/25: “. . . Flipping through those Pot Pourri pages, I was struck by how few classmates I came to know in my three years. I look back on them gratefully, happily, and with a pinch of wry amusement. Here was a whole new world of people, from so many places, homes, and backgrounds, with such a variety of outlooks, attitudes, and habits. It’s the people I remember most with lasting affection. The relationships, the confidences, the hi-jinks and mischief-making, the vivid and unpredictable personalities, the points of view and funny quirks. There are guys, voices, faces that will go on frequenting my mind till the end of me.

“I went to Stanford, then to Yale Law (I ditched it), transferred to the Comp Lit dept, ditched that too. (Founding Father of the Sixties Drop-Out Society, me.) My wife of 65 years, Kyra, a smart, lively, lovely woman, excels at many things including pickleball, volunteering, and motherhood. Two estimable children, two granddaughters the same. In my life since school I’ve made a career of not having a career. Happily so. In no particular order: teaching; bar-tending; two small businesses; UPS night worker; advertising; corporate newsletter. Writing has been a fascination from the start. Fiction, poetry, letters. Words and language wow me.

“Now my life whittles down to basics. Reading, a bit of writing, local travel with Kyra, keeping in touch by mail and phone with a few old friends. None now from Andover. In the past I stayed somewhat in touch with [Twink] Catlett, [David] Steinberg, Yogi [Lawrence], [Jim] Liles, [Eduardo] Maal, and [Tom] Burns. 

“A central activity revolves around family. Added to that I’m a half-crazed and devoted gardener and handy-geezer. Even though I’m hobbled now by basketball injuries at Andover and 25 years of fierce, imbecilic running, I still love hitting our yard with cane, hedge clippers, snips, rake, and maniac joy. Even still a bit friendly with ladders — very careful. No email or iPhone either. Kyra handles tech for us though I do use telephones. I talk talk talk but I actually know how to listen. Happy Hallowe’en to you. Me, I’m going to pinch a cute pumpkin and goose a goblin.”

10/21/25: “Tom Burns and I saw demonstrated the so-called thermite reaction in [‘Weary’] Weaver’s chemistry lab – a Sudden Heat Delight. We heisted the powders back to Twink Catlett’s and my room [2nd floor Adams Hall North] and its working fireplace, where we caused these timid-seeming chemicals to ignite, predictably, like young lovers in the high heat of passion. Serious fire and heat! A bit of carpet was scorched, a bit of floor to boot. A stink ensued and Tom and I hoisted windows and fanned like mad. Mr. Hulburd must have been out coaching. The adrenal rush is obviously to blame for my life of sneaky misdeeds and mad adventures – if only in my over-charged imagination. . . . It’s a strange land we’re living in now in the U.S. of A., but Kyra and I are sailing along pretty well notwithstanding.”

11/05/25: “In what ways do our brains (minds) retrieve our pasts and what do these ‘mental visions’ contribute to our ‘selfhood’? Does yours deliver in a visual form in color? ‘Sonic’? Most minds do, it seems. Alas for folks who aren’t able. . . . A few of us lads on occasion had a pop or two of Coke and vodka. Didn’t get booted. Miracle. . . . I’m on board with character. Virtue, wisdom, tolerance, compassion. Reason, patience, kindness. With some humor. Would that the World were so inclined. Laughing is my way of dealing with disappointments in myself and matters beyond me.”

12/09/25: “One is best off not being unduly taken aback by what the World dishes out. My habit is to savor the complexity of reality, my own and beyond, in good humor. Making rigorous sense of it is beyond me, but the search for Meaning is entertaining. The radical cartoonist R. Crumb had a self-appointed guru named Mister Natural who, when asked ‘What does it all mean?’, calls back, ‘It don’t mean sheeeit!’ Even more apt than Dylan Thomas’s ‘voyage to ruin we must run’ is the notion of running that voyage in the company of those we encounter. The scent of connection makes my personal trip worth doing. Gives a meaning, an endless sense of wonder and astonishment that Being is. Sharing ourselves and our reflections in a generosity of spirit — all should aspire to that. Though I have no wish to broadcast myself to the Website World Out There. ”

01/21/26: “A spot of time-traveling back to October ’53 when Fred (Fritz) Cooper and I were a couple of whack-job gamblers. This from a letter to my parents about a bet I made with Fritz: ‘We were listening to the sixth game [of the World Series between the Dodgers and the Yankees] in my [Adams Hall] room on my radio. It was in the top of the ninth, the Dodgers had a man on first, and [Carl] Furillo was up. Coop said he’d give me 500 to 1 odds on a dime that the Dodgers would win the Series. I took that bet! That meant that if the Yankees went on to win the Series, I owed Coop a dime, but if the Dodgers won the sixth game and went on to win the seventh Coop would have owed me 50 bucks! Well, the Yanks were winning 3 to 1 when we made this bet, but practically on the next pitch Furillo hit the homer. You should have seen Coop. He hadn’t given a hoot who won the Series, but all of a sudden he got awful interested. He got down on his knees and started to pray that the Yanks would win, only partly joking! Obviously he got his .10, but it was worth more than that just to see him start to mentally tear his hair out.'”

Steve Clarkson  Oct. 6 2025, 10:38 am email to class secretary

“In order to finally put the phony conspiracy theories to rest, I must add following points, which many of our classmates have long known:

“On a sunny Saturday early afternoon in the Spring of 1954, Dave Moore and I were returning to our West Quad dorms after lunch at the Commons. As we crossed Rte 28 we became intrigued by the construction equipment / materials left over the weekend by the workers, in particular the sawhorses and smudge pots. It seemed simultaneously that we both broke into laughter at the thought of using both items to cause a little mischief.

“During the next few days I followed up with the idea. My roommate John Brubaker and Tony Barlow and Al Faurot across the hall in Adams gathered painting materials from the Addison for signs and hooks to move the smudge pots from the hardware store downtown. We enlisted a total of about 16 volunteers, half of which only had to do one quick job on the way back from the library at 9 pm. The rest were decoys who left at the same time. We were only allowed 7 minutes to get back to our dorms.

“A date a couple days later was set for the strike. For lack of a better idea we set the route down Hidden Road behind the Quad, which was a dead end. On the fateful night each of us did our jobs, scurried back to our rooms, and excitedly threw up the windows to see if the prank would work. The first vehicle to pull up to the sawhorse in the middle of the road, with a sign saying DETOUR with an arrow to turn right, was a large oil truck. The driver paused for a few moments that seemed to last forever. He then slowly turned right to great cheering in the dorms that he apparently could not hear. Several cars behind him dutifully followed, then a Boston-bound bus and more cars. All followed the truck around the Quad and down Hidden Road.

“Most of us then promptly jumped in bed and pretended to be sleeping until sometime later when we actually were. Of course, the next morning, we suddenly and belatedly became concerned about what could happen to us if we were found out, hopeful that we would be let off because the prank had not hurt anyone (putting aside the anger of a bunch of pissed-off passengers on the bus when it took the police almost an hour to unravel the backup). We felt some relief in that regard when we heard that English teacher Pen Hallowell, who lived in the last house at the end of Hidden Road, had broken out in great laughter as the vehicles descended on his abode.

“We heard that the faculty conducted a superficial investigation. The only name they turned up was that of Jaren Leet whose only crime was loaning us a box (in which he had just received some cookies from his mother and hence had his name on it) that we needed to put an extra arrow on. We never heard a thing from the faculty. Over 15 years later, at one of our reunions, Physics teacher Pete McKee accosted me about the incident. Since the statute of limitations was undoubtedly well past I acknowledged the above details.

“I repeat—the Class of 1954 had NOTHING to do with the incident.”

Ben Dorman Sun. Oct 5, 2025, 6:33 am email to class secretary

“Life is definitely slowing down.  I’m still managing a few rounds of golf each week, albeit with the help of a buggy.  And I’m still (after 35 years) musically involved with The Windsor & Eton Choral Society – one of England’s oldest choirs which will celebrate its 190th anniversary next year.  Lastly, like Roger [Algase], I’m still a practising solicitor although this might be my final year of lawyering – 62 years ‘at the bar’ is probably enough. With grand-daughters enrolled in Boston University and Sarah Lawrence, their respective graduations in a few years will provide an excellent excuse to return to PA – I’ve not visited since our 50th reunion.”

Dave Gould Sat. Oct 4, 2025, 3:08 pm email to Dick Woods copied to class secretary

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid you would have to travel a bit farther than Granby to even find a crust we might break together. I’m now — and have been, for more than 50 years– living in Santiago, Chile, where in 1974 I accepted a job with the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean. When the moment came for my obligatory retirement from the UN, my wife Nora and I decided to stay on here. At that time, both our children were employed in Santiago. Subsequently, they both decided they wanted to return to the U.S. Daughter Ellen ended up living in Darien, and now works in Stamford as a broker in the petroleum industry. Son Albert became an English-Spanish simultaneous interpreter for the Colorado justice system, and moved to the Vail area to be close to the skiing. So that’s where we are now. Actually, we have very tasty bread!”

Peter Parsons Mon. Oct 6, 2025, 4:45 pm email to Bob Rogers copied to class secretary

“Of all the guys I got to know at Andover, [you, Bob Rogers] are about the best. It’s not a big bunch. Dave Steinberg, Perry Lewis and Bob Pitts too. . . . I recall that Tony Pratt might have teamed up with you and others to produce our class musical.’

Bob Rogers  Tue. Oct 7, 2025, 1:36 am email reply to Peter Parsons copied to class secretary

Yes, Pete I do make music but not as much as in days past.  Linda and I celebrate our 56th wedding anniversary in December.

Walt Howe Wed. January 21, 2026, 5:42 pm comment posted to class secretary’s website

“I just logged out of a Zoom session sponsored by Andover titled ‘Zooming Through the Decades: An All-Classes Social Gathering.’ We met and went to breakout rooms by decades, and the 1950s breakout room had two from 1952, me from 1955, and three from 1959. It was a lot of fun reminiscing and sharing stories and hearing about others. At reunion time last year, I asked about the possibilities of a zoom component for reunions for those less able to travel. I was told it was impractical and they did not have the equipment to set up good hybrid zoom sessions where both in-person and remote attendees can participate. Some classes hold regular zoom sessions to stay in touch. Those meetings would not be hybrid. Is there any interest in exploring this?” [Classnotes staff can host meetings on their Andover Zoom account but they think it would be best if a classmate volunteered to do it on his personal Zoom account. Otherwise we’d be competing with other meetings and they go home after work. WOULD SOMEONE LIKE TO VOLUNTEER?]

From Kate Washburn: Ned Washburn has left Mill Valley for Carmel, California. New address: 8545 Carmel Valley Rd., Carmel, CA 93923.

John Neal Daly 11/14/37 – 11/24/25 (obituary posted separately)

John Neal Daly 11/14/1937 – 11/24/2025

Posted on by David Harrison

John Neal Daly passed away on November 24th, 2025, at Greenwich Hospital in Greenwich, Connecticut.

Born in Washington D.C. on November 14th, 1937, his father was the famed newsman and broadcaster, John Charles Daly. Along with his mother, Margaret Criswell Neal and his siblings, they resided in a home on the grounds of the Westchester Country Club. While enjoying his youth, John chose to attend the Phillips Andover Academy from 1952 to 1955. From there, He went on to attend Yale University. Upon his graduation in 1959, he spent two years in the Marine Corps.

After his stint, John entered the world of business, joining the firm of E.F. Hutton & Co. with whom he spent 23 years, at various times, he ran the Syndicate Department, the Commodities Division and the Asset Management Division. As well, during his time with E.F. Hutton, he completed the prestigious Harvard University Advanced Management Program in 1979. From Hutton, John joined Salomon Brothers, both at the New York and London offices, where he headed for the Private Client Division and International Equity Capital Markets. He then went on to become the Director of Separately Managed Accounts at Spears, Benzak, Salomon & Farrell, spending 10 years with the firm. He went on to fill a similar role with Prudential Managed Accounts from 2002 to 2005. Lastly, he founded IMMS Inc., a separately managed accounts consulting firm. Also notable is John’s work with CareCloud, a leading healthcare technology company where he had been a Director since 2014.

Throughout the course of his career, John enjoyed accolades and roles within the investment community. He was a long-time member of the Bond Club of New York, serving as the president for a term. He was also a proud member of Kappa Beta Phi, a social organization of investment luminaries, serving as the Grand Swipe in 1977. As well, John served as a Director of the Greenwich Historical Society. A longtime member of the Yale Club, John also enjoyed membership in other New York City institutions. An honorary member of the Burning Tree Club in Washington D.C., John was an active member of The Round Hill Club in Greenwich.

Through his education and business relationships, John had an enormous circle of friends and associates which were very important in his life. They were so numerous that a running family joke was that he could find someone he knew even in deepest Africa, which actually came to fruition while on safari in Kenya in 1986.

Traveling with his family was one of John’s great joys. From getaways with his wife Barbara, trips with his children and many times having his three half-siblings from his father’s second marriage made for great fun, many laughs and tremendous memories. John and Barbara first went to Harbour Island in the Bahamas in 1967 and enjoyed annual visits there, owning a home for 22 years.

Speaking of his wife, Barbara and John enjoyed the best kind of union, two people with different strengths and abilities, but who complemented each other so perfectly. It sounds like cliche, but they truly were each other’s best friend and that was readily apparent to anyone who knew or spent time with them. Meeting in New York City through mutual friends, they hit it off instantly and married in April 1966, enjoying 4 and a half years of marriage before welcoming the first child, John. Parenthood brought them out to the country, moving to New Canaan, Connecticut before welcoming their daughter Cristina. They moved to Greenwich in 1977, where they have resided ever since.

Aside from family, friends and business, John had numerous other interests, among them was his participation with The Culinary Institute of America, the preeminent cooking school in the country and arguably the world. Asked to join to assist in the management of the school’s assets, his role expanded over time. He began as a “member” of the corporation and joined the Board of Trustees, serving as Treasurer and Chair of Finance. Since 2004, he had served as a Trustee Emeritus. In his time, John was crucial in developing the CIA’s Napa Valley Campus and participated in the building of international campuses.

John is survived by his wife Barbara and children John and Cristina. As well he is survived by his beloved grandchildren, Caroline and Jack Hamel and his brother Charles and half siblings James and Nina.

Per the family’s request, in lieu of flowers, please make a donation to a scholarship in John’s name with The Culinary Institute of America. The link to donate is here: www.ciachef.edu/JohnNDalyScholarship.

Play It for Laughs, Sam!

Posted on by David Harrison

To my PA ’55 long-suffering classmates,

“Long-suffering” because we’ve all waited patiently for 71 years to hear the story of The Great Route 28 Detour Caper only to hear it in pieces and the pieces don’t fit. I’m referring to Dave Gunn’s recollection that appeared in the Summer issue; Jim Liles’ in the Fall / Winter Class Notes I’ve posted it on my website; and now Steve Clarkson’s that blows the lid off city hall. The ‘breaking story’ I’ve entitled “Down a Road Named Hidden Field” you’ll also find on my website.

I would love to do a Walter Winchell and stoke a feud to attract readers. Get my own table at Sherman Billingsley’s Stork Club, a Sunday night broadcast to “Mr. and Mrs. North America and all the ships at sea,” and an invitation to the White House. But I’ve resisted the temptation. Appealing, instead, to the good will and common sense of the pranksters to settle their differences among themselves. To give us the truth – without fearing retribution from Justice or worse: a demerit!

Here’s what I’ve just written to Mssrs. Clarkson, Liles, and Gunn, minus their contact information:

“All things are possible from the right perspective. Wisdom from the pulpit at Cochran Chapel that could help solve our dilemma as we deal with a wayward bus. Perspectives that seem at variance while, having made history, our class goes about writing it. The history, of course, of The Great Route 28 Detour Caper.

“More mischief making? Or a case of actors in a drama so vast in scope that one isn’t aware of the other. If the latter you could co-author a note after getting your heads together. I would put it into my website for immediate consumption and later into the Spring issue of Andover Magazine. Where PA ’55 would be the envy of every other class for sheer effrontery: daring the authorities to expel half the class for a prank worth a thousand demerits.

“Do you understand what you accomplished? I could have been kicked out for quietly chewing on a candy bar I’d bought at the Andover Inn before taking my seat at afternoon Chapel. Caught in the act only because I was in the last row where overzealous faculty, a new guy, could spot my heinous infraction. Get caught doing that again six times and back home I go! While all the perpetrators of the most outrageous prank in campus history get is a chuckle from Pen Hallowell. And a farce of an ‘investigation’ that turns up Diu Leet’s cookie tin. Gimme a break!

“Here’s your contact information. . . Talk to one another and get back to me. Don’t leave it to the uncertain talents of a class secretary for note-taking and interpretation to speak for you!

“The choice is to ensure that PA ’55’s crowning achievement earns admiration for perfect execution and getting away with it by settling your differences among yourselves. Or to open it to ridicule for Three Stooges dysfunction. With another choice: callously disregard my suggestion or let Hallowe’en spirit our memories — or us — all away first. To our crypts before any of our voices can be heard. Before the sacred trust of the wayward bus driver and his passengers’ sacrifice can be honored. Sent to an uncertain fate down Hidden Field Road for the sake of a laugh.

“What Pen Hallowell witnessed was stagecraft that required planning and execution. A Vaudeville act that earned a laugh because that’s what it was for. Nobody wants a class secretary’s opinion, but I thought it was hilarious. Let the hilarity live on in the pages of Andover Magazine and my website as it deserves. Play it for laughs!”

Will they listen? They who think nothing of having a good laugh at others’ expense? Should we bet on it?

Having fun (at others’ expense),

Dave Harrison, PA ’55 class secretary
At Your Service

Down a Road Named Hidden Field: THE Story of the Great Route 28 Detour Caper?

Posted on by David Harrison

Email from Steve Clarkson today 10/06/25:

“In order to finally put the phony conspiracy theories to rest, I must add following points, which many of our classmates have long known:

“On a sunny Saturday early afternoon in the Spring of 1954, Dave Moore and I were returning to our West Quad dorms after lunch at the Commons. As we crossed Rte 28 we became intrigued by the construction equipment / materials left over the weekend by the workers, in particular the sawhorses and smudge pots. It seemed simultaneously that we both broke into laughter at the thought of using both items to cause a little mischief.

“During the next few days I followed up with the idea. My roommate John Brubaker and Tony Barlow and Al Faurot across the hall in Adams gathered painting materials from the Addison for signs and hooks to move the smudge pots from the hardware store downtown. We enlisted a total of about 16 volunteers, half of which only had to do one quick job on the way back from the library at 9 pm. The rest were decoys who left at the same time. We were only allowed 7 minutes to get back to our dorms.

“A date a couple days later was set for the strike. For lack of a better idea we set the route down Hidden Road behind the Quad, which was a dead end. On the fateful night each of us did our jobs, scurried back to our rooms, and excitedly threw up the windows to see if the prank would work. The first vehicle to pull up to the sawhorse in the middle of the road, with a sign saying DETOUR with an arrow to turn right, was a large oil truck. The driver paused for a few moments that seemed to last forever. He then slowly turned right to great cheering in the dorms that he apparently could not hear. Several cars behind him dutifully followed, then a Boston-bound bus and more cars. All followed the truck around the Quad and down Hidden Road.

“Most of us then promptly jumped in bed and pretended to be sleeping until sometime later when we actually were. Of course, the next morning, we suddenly and belatedly became concerned about what could happen to us if we were found out, hopeful that we would be let off because the prank had not hurt anyone (putting aside the anger of a bunch of pissed-off passengers on the bus when it took the police almost an hour to unravel the backup). We felt some relief in that regard when we heard that English teacher Pen Hallowell, who lived in the last house at the end of Hidden Road, had broken out in great laughter as the vehicles descended on his abode.

“We heard that the faculty conducted a superficial investigation. The only name they turned up was that of Jaren Leet whose only crime was loaning us a box (in which he had just received some cookies from his mother and hence had his name on it) that we needed to put an extra arrow on. We never heard a thing from the faculty. Over 15 years later, at one of our reunions, Physics teacher Pete McKee accosted me about the incident. Since the statute of limitations was undoubtedly well past I acknowledged the above details.

“I repeat—the Class of 1954 had NOTHING to do with the incident.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

What then of the story I pieced together from telephone interviews with Jim Liles and Dave Gunn? Was this an orchestration so vast that it enveloped extras without their being aware of it? True Andover men don’t engage in “phony conspiracy theories.” Jim and Dave are true blue. And doubtless so is Steve.

So what’s to make of the discrepancy? I have no answer except what might be inferred from the backstory on Jim’s class note that I shared with Steve. That an upperclassman was materially involved and he might still be out there, waiting for one of us – Steve? – to wring a confession out of him. Or at least one more among a growing number of confessions.

Here’s the final straw that broke Steve’s silence. The backstory that I sent when he heard about ’54 getting credit and had had enough:

“Jim Liles speculated that the instigator who asked for his help was ‘Lamontagne,’ a baseball pitcher. He wasn’t sure, though being made to repeat the ninth grade he was familiar with the class of ’54. When I ran ‘Lamontagne’ by Andover staff they came back with Ray Lamontagne class of ’53. Baseball player. I was in Stowe House ’52-’53. Since I saw the bus from Adams North the prank would have occurred fall ’53 or spring ’54. Ray could still have been involved, but I chose “upperclassman of uncertain identity” since it now seemed unlikely. Why would a graduate of ’53 still be on campus?

“You could be right that ’54 had nothing to do with it. But since ’53 was all but ruled out, and by the time we were uppers ’54 was the only other possibility, I went ahead and tied it with Jim’s ‘upperclassman’.

“Having mined Jim’s memory at length over the phone and confirmed Lamontagne’s identity and class with the school I could try contacting the alleged perpetrator himself. Or you could. Confirm that the class of ’53 put Jim up to it and I’d relay that in our next class notes. A significant correction that would gratify Fritz Allis, my American history teach

“Dave Gunn’s version over the phone was sketchier than Jim’s. He was clear that he had no awareness of Jim or an ‘upperclassman’. He had no memory of moving the detour sign. What he was clear on was it happened after the library closed and he was on his way back to his dorm across Route 28. Since Jim had mentioned ‘cones’ on the shoulder the only part Dave could have played was to move a cone or two. Jim and Ray (?) had “split and run” as soon as they saw the bus and wouldn’t have seen Dave. He wouldn’t have seen them though he did see the bus. However, he’s always been clear, since he first told me about his part way back when, that he didn’t act alone. Because, I now assume, the detour sign had already been moved.

“The detail that would appear to snatch glory from ’55 to ’54 was in Jim’s account. The instigator asked Jim to “give me a hand” moving the detour sign off the shoulder and onto the road. Where they must have pointed it down Hidden Field Road. Were it the other way around, and ‘Lamontagne’ or whoever had been deputized by Jim, we get the credit.

“Dave had no qualms about ‘trapping the bus’ or getting credit for it. Jim was conscience-stricken and remains so. He was Smokey the Bear in his formative years on the way to a career with the National Park Service. Why did he do it? He described ‘Lamontagne’ to me as a “big man on campus.” Who among us callow preppies wouldn’t want to impress a big man on campus a year ahead of us? Who could say No? I still revere the late Ed Selig, class of ’54, who could put a twelve-pound shot over 50 feet. If he’d asked me to give him a hand with anything I would have swooned at the opportunity.

“Track down Ray Lamontagne. Twist his arm and force a confession out of him. Relieve Jim’s conscience of its misery. Put an end to conjecture and you can be the hero!”
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dave Gunn’s class note in Andover Magazine’s Summer issue elicited Jim’s note in the Fall / Winter issue. Which in turn has elicited Steve’s account. Both Jim and Steve expressed frustration with trespassers on narratives they own. But regardless of who’s defending the Truth getting at it has become a story in itself. A story of one detour after another leading us down A Streetcar Named Desire? No. Down A Road named Hidden Field.

Will Jim and Dave howl with protests of their own? Or come round to Steve’s revelation in deference to the Man? The Great Detour Ringleader.

If there’s no objection this will be shared with our classmates in the Spring issue of Andover Magazine. With a link to this post on my website. Where the watchword is All the News and Foolishness that’s Fit to Print. 

Dave Harrison
Posted Monday 10/06/25

PA ’55 Class Notes Andover Magazine Fall / Winter 2025

Posted on by David Harrison

Roger Algase: “I am still going strong as a  business and professional immigration lawyer at the age of 88, fighting for justice and human rights for non-citizens and US citizens alike, as well as speaking out against Israel’s Gaza genocide. I am still in regular touch with my good friend, classmate and fellow Latin student in “Porky” Benton’s class, David Harrison. I am supported in my work by my wife of the past 30 years, Satoko Ishikawa, and am in close touch with my two daughters from my first marriage, Sara Levin and Julie Fracchia, as well as my two grandchildren Jack and Justin Levin, all of whom live in or near Orlando, FL. ”

Ray Clevenger:  “As I wrote for a long-ago reunion book, I am not sure exactly what Sam Phillips did for me, but my life since Andover has been blessed and I am pretty sure Sam had something to do with the opportunities I have had in life and the person I turned out to be. I still feel that way. At the recent reunion, I stayed in my senior dorm (Paul Revere North) and went to look at my upper room in Johnson South.  I had forgotten how spartan the rooms were and still are.  Classrooms looked pretty much the same, as did the beauty of the campus, now dotted with fancy new buildings. I have no reason to doubt that Andover is still a meaningful and positive experience for most of its students, at least, so I hope it can last.”

Tom Hale: “It was at Andover that I encountered God and determined to my best ability to follow Christ. I believed He was leading me to become a medical missionary to the poorest (at the time) country on earth — Nepal. I entered medical school and on the first day of classes I met my future wife Cynthia Berberian. She also had determined to become a medical missionary. And so after a year we got married, and then, after medical training and two years in the Army, we went off to Nepal where we served for twenty-five wonderful years. Andover was the first step in that journey.”

September telecon with Jim Liles: He and Suzie still drive 1,000 miles from the Ozarks in Arkansas to the two-story house he and his son built 20 years ago. Ten miles from Grand Lake in the Colorado Rockies, where, not long ago, they were joined every other year by Bob and Linda Rogers. Where they still get together with Perry Lewis. After Jim’s daughter Diana finished her African studies at Ohio State Steve Kaye helped pay for her trip to Africa.

The honor of instigating The Great Route 28 Detour Caper belongs to the class of ’54. To the upperclassman of uncertain identity who asked Jim to “give me a hand” pointing the detour sign down Hidden Field Road. When Dave Gunn moved cones the deed was mostly done and the perpetrators had “split and run.” “My God, what have we done!” Jim’s reaction when the bus appeared that reverberates still.

Peter Parsons interrupted an email with this: “Right now I have a super typhoon NANDO on top of me.” That was September 21 5:59 PM Pacific. Next day, at 7:20 AM, he wrote, “Now I am lying in my sofa with typhoon Nando thrashing my surroundings with heavy rainfall, and I am praying that my house does not slide down the hill.” Repeated attempts to rouse Peter by email went unanswered until the 30th and this: “We were without electricity and internet on and off for the two week duration of TWO TYPHOONS, Nando and Opong. I did swim my 1000 meters for a few days, but fierce winds and rains kept me away for several days. My only loss was two old pine trees. During the time indoors we looked over our Pot Pourri of 1955. It was fun seeing all the guys and places.”

Bob Rogers: “Andover, Class of 1955!  I remember those Andover years well because my long-term memory is better than my short.  Linda and I now live in Albuquerque, New Mexico where the sun shines brightly every day and the Balloon Festival arrives annually to fill the sky with colorful bounty. It is amazing to look up into the morning sky and see hundreds of colorful balloons drifting to the hither and yon. We left the East coast 7 years ago to help with a newborn grandchild while our daughter completed her medical residency at UNM. Our son and his family live in Salem, MA. Do I still make music the answer is definitely yes but only when I’m in the mood. We’ve had some lovely visits with Jim and Suzie Liles in Colorado and Arkansas and I assure you Jim can still identify correctly every bird he hears. Good cheer to all my classmates.” 

Dick Woods and Robin “celebrated their 65th anniversary this May. He retired in 1992 and the two of them have now traveled to 142 countries and still sail (now under power, having aged out of sail) out of their home in Connecticut, from Maine to the Bahamas. Their three children are scattered across the inland US, so boating is giving way to more sedentary interests such as family.”

Remembrance posted to my website for Louis Michael “Mike” Bell. Also obituaries for Dr. Scott Stewart III; Charles Gordon “Terry” Zug III; and Deborah Green West, Abbott ‘55 and wife of Mike West PA ’55.  [Ref. Abbott ’55 class notes.]

Until we meet again, with thanks to all,

Dave

Deborah West 01/30/37 ~ 09/21/25 Abbott ’55, wife of Michael D. West PA ’55

Posted on by David Harrison

Deborah Green West, age 88, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, died peacefully at home on Sunday, September 21, 2025, with George Gershwin playing on WQED public radio.

Debbie is survived and sorely missed by her husband of 64 years, Michael West, her daughter, Alexandra West, her grandson, Tobias Edson, her son-in-law, James Edson and many nieces and nephews.  She is preceded in death by her parents, Marvin and Evelyn Green, and her brother, Marvin Green, Jr.

Born in Syracuse, New York, and growing up in Darien, Connecticut, Debbie attended Abbott Academy, where she first met her husband, Michael.  She later graduated from Wellesley College.  She received a Masters of Social Work from Simmons School of Social Work and practiced as a clinical social worker in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Middletown, Connecticut.  Moving to Pittsburgh, she earned a Doctorate of Social Work at the University of Pittsburgh, practicing for years at Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic, first on their Brief Treatment Unit, and later the Rape Treatment Research Project.  Eventually, she went into private practice as a psychotherapist, where she was of tremendous help to countless people dealing with diverse challenges and had a particularly expert focus on working with adult survivors of childhood abuse.

A strong tennis player, Debbie, together with her husband, won the Pittsburgh Public Parks mixed doubles title in 1985.   Throughout much of her life, she regularly played tennis with friends and was active in organizing and administering a women’s tennis league.

After retiring in 2016, Debbie continued to live with her husband in the Shadyside neighborhood, enjoying friends and cultural events in the arts.  The onset of Alzheimer’s complicated her final years by limiting her mobility and impairing her cognition, but she remained a devotee of educational television programs.

Memorial services are private.  Those wishing to make a donation in Debbie’s memory should direct it to either WQED Multimedia, whose television and radio programming Debbie enjoyed immensely to the very end of her life (www.wqed.org), or the Center for Victims, with which she collaborated closely for many years as a social worker (www.centerforvictims.org).

Ball Funeral Chapel, Inc.

Charles Gordon “Terry” Zug III 02/26/38 – 01/19/25

Posted on by David Harrison

Obituary
published on Legacy.com by American Cremation & Funeral Service on Feb. 3, 2025.

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Professor Charles Gordon Zug III (known to most everyone as “Terry”) of Chapel Hill, North Carolina on January 19, 2025, in Hillsborough, NC, at the age of 86. We will all miss his great sense of humor, boundless curiosity, love of children, and unwavering dedication to his family and friends.Terry was born on February 26, 1938, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the eldest child of Charles Gordon Zug Jr. and Harriet Loutrel Zug. With his younger siblings Chris and Lisa, who both predeceased Terry, the family lived in Edgeworth Borough, outside of Pittsburgh and spent their summers at Mason’s Island, Connecticut where Terry loved to fish and swim. Terry attended Phillips Academy Andover for high school, followed by Yale University-where he played on the varsity soccer team, and was an accomplished discus thrower for the varsity track team. At Yale, Terry majored in engineering, but eventually decided that he had no interest in a career in engineering. So after graduating in 1959, he enlisted in the Navy.

Terry completed Navy Officer Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island, and Mine Warfare School in Charleston, South Carolina in 1960, and was then stationed on two different minesweepers (the USS Dynamic and the USS Gannet) in the Pacific Fleet. He spent a fair amount of that time in Sasebo, Japan, where Terry immersed himself in Japanese culture-including driving around southern Japan on a motorbike, learning to speak conversational Japanese, and developing what would be a life-long interest in Japanese woodblock prints. Terry left active duty in 1963 to attend graduate school, but served in the Navy Reserve for years after-eventually ending his naval career having attained the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

Back stateside, Terry obtained a master’s degree in English from the University of Pittsburgh in 1965, followed by a Ph.D. in Folklore and Folklife from the University of Pennsylvania in 1968. It was during graduate school that he met his first wife, Sara Penelope Griswold, whom he married in 1967. In 1968, Terry and Sara moved to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, where Terry began teaching at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in the Department of English and Curriculum in Folklore. In 1970, their first child, Charles Gordon Zug IV (known as Geordie) was born, followed by their second child, daughter Eliza Wendell Zug, in 1973. Terry and Sara divorced in 1984.

Terry taught at UNC for 33 years, retiring in 2001. His primary academic passion was folklore–primarily Southern material culture. Throughout his academic career he interviewed and conducted fieldwork with many southern folk artists and outsider artists. He was the author of multiple books on material culture, including the 1986 award-winning Turners and Burners: The Folk Potters of North Carolina-a comprehensive chronicling of the folk pottery traditions of North Carolina. Terry was also a beloved and respected professor, advisor, and mentor to many classes of UNC undergraduate and graduate students.

Terry was instrumental in the founding of the North Carolina Pottery Center, opened in 1998 in Seagrove, NC-the first state pottery center in the nation. Terry served as interim director of the center multiple times, and continued to be very active in the activities of the center well into retirement. Terry was one of the true experts on southern pottery, often speaking at pottery festivals and other events in the southeast.

In 1989, Terry met and fell in love with Daphne Sledge Cruze, and they later married in 2001. Terry and Daphne spent many happy years living together in Chapel Hill in a house full of folk art. In his free time, Terry loved to cook, grow vegetables in his gardens, split firewood with a sledgehammer and wedge, play with Daphne’s and his dogs, collect folk art, watch Pittsburgh Steelers football and UNC Tar Heels basketball games, and spend time with his family. He especially loved children, and enjoyed teasing and playing with his four granddaughters as well as many other children he encountered in his daily life.

Terry is survived by his wife Daphne Cruze-Zug, his son Geordie Zug and Geordie’s wife Marcia Zug, his daughter Eliza Cox and her partner Philippe Rispoli, his stepdaughter Sidney Moffitt and her husband Don Moffitt, his stepson Warren Cruze, his grandchildren Willa Zug, Lucy Zug, Chloe Rispoli, and Isabel Moffitt, and his and Daphne’s beloved Jack Russell Terrier, Maisie.

Dr. Scott Stewart III 12/16/37 – 07/27/25

Posted on by David Harrison

Obituary
Anthony Funeral & Cremation Chapels – Brighton/Rochester Chapel on Jul. 30, 2025.

Dr. Scott Stewart III, a pioneering pediatric heart surgeon at Strong Memorial Hospital known for his quiet reserve and thoughtfulness in conversation, was born in Rochester, NY. Gifted with an inquisitive mind and a passion for learning, he attended Phillips Andover Academy, then earned an undergraduate degree from Williams College. He received his medical degree from Case Western Reserve University followed by an internship at Johns Hopkins and residencies at Vanderbilt and at the University of Alabama, under Dr. John Kirkland.

Scott returned to Rochester in 1973, where he established new techniques in pediatric cardiac surgery and developed a team at Strong specializing in the treatment of pediatric heart disease. He dedicated his life to healing and service as a doctor, earning the respect of patients and colleagues alike for his calm presence, keen intellect and unwavering compassion.

A loving husband and devoted father, Scott had many passions. He found joy on the open water and spent countless hours sailing, which brought him freedom and peace. He was also an avid skier, motorcyclist, antique-car collector, reader and builder of model airplanes. He loved Springer Spaniels, Canandaigua Lake and country music.

Scott is survived by his beloved wife, Andy; sister Martha Stobbs of Atlanta; his sons Scott (and partner, Lara), of Nashville, Doug (Diana) of San Francisco; grandchildren Jackson, Saylor (Dharaa), Twyla; and nieces Lili Ball and Katherine Dobbs.

Louis Michael “Digme” Bell  07/03/37 – 12/24/21. A Personal Remembrance

Posted on by David Harrison

Among the giants of our class none stood taller in my estimation than “Digme the Pygmy.” Known to most of us as the Phillipian’s cartoonist, “Digger” would also have been known to many of us as a friend because that was who he was and wanted to be. A friend. True blue for being there for you. True blue for loyalty to the royal blue, Andover.

Meeting me in Omaha to relieve me at the wheel of my U-Haul moving me from Morgantown to Boulder, in August 1995. Where he lived, a far piece from Omaha, but nothing if it was for a friend and especially for an Andover friend. Family and community were the beacons he navigated by and Andover to him was both. Hard to believe that anyone could put the stamp of the common man on a campus full of preppies but he did. Little in physical stature but hardly so as a man of the people.

The little people who weren’t putting up with it anymore in the 60s and 70s. The predatory manipulations of authority that Mike thought unworthy of integrity, human decency, and goodwill — the signatures of his character. His passions were folklore and folk music, his role models standups like Joan Baez and legends like Lead Belly. Whose talents he made a career of broadcasting through college and community radio.

Like KGNU, Boulder’s voice of the common man. He named his program of folk music and blues “Highway 322,” probably more known in its day for Burma Shave ads than for going anywhere. But it brushed by his beloved State College and family farm, and that was somewhere for him. It put him on the map too. When I informed my fiancé, a Boulder resident, that he’d been my roommate at Andover, she exclaimed, “You mean THE Mike Bell?”

THE Mike Bell was what I came to think Andover wanted all its sons in those boys’ school days to be: an original. Taking family genetics from Penn State faculty through Andover and Harvard all the way to a career in Icelandic philology. To become fluent in Icelandic and an authority on Old Norse history and mythology and the Icelandic Sagas.

And proud recipient of an authentic Viking helmet bestowed upon him by his appreciative subjects. A symbol of brute strength that met its match in the untamed clutter of his office on the campus of Colorado University. Where from 1974 until his retirement in 2008 he taught car lore in addition to folk lore and folk music. Conventional stuff compared to his habit, when we bussed home from Rockies games at Coors Field, of dropping by Penny Lane to buy a single cigarette. They don’t make them like this anymore. He’s truly missed.

Call for Class Notes: Fall/Winter Issue Andover Magazine

Posted on by David Harrison

To Phillips Academy Class of ’55
From Dave Harrison, class secretary
September 5, 2025

Never more needed than now

From the enthusiasm and thankfulness of our 70th Reunion organizers, Steve Clarkson and John Doykos, to the part two of us have played in shaping and narrating the histories of other countries, Peter Parsons and the late Richard Cowles, there was ample evidence of lives lived, thoughts worth listening to, and differences made in the latest edition of our class notes. The difference between us and generations looking up to us being one of perspective. Moved and moving when, in one instant of spontaneous reflection, we take it all in. So much to be taken in and — how is it possible? As Steve Kaye put it after he looked back and tried: “I can’t explain it. I really can’t.”

His but one of many remarkable journeys through life reflected in our class notes. Owing to many causes but one for sure is Andover. Where we were taken seriously as individuals and given a serious education. We took ourselves and our responsibilities seriously, and the result was uniquely arresting stories. Of lives lived with purpose. Not lived out and wasted but put to good use. Then and now. As role models of talent, discrimination, sensitivity, and resolve. Character combined with humanity that can’t take itself too seriously. The signature of Dave Gunn. Relatability.

Everyone a voice worth hearing and needing to be heard. Thoughtful and heartfelt: the voice of experience that’s never more needed than now. By each other. By those less experienced. By our country.

Is nothing sacred?

When you’re so moved, email your thoughts before October 3. Our draft Fall/Winter notes already feature four guys who didn’t let the grass grow underfoot, including three whose impact was personal. There’s room for more. The wealth of goodwill and hell-raising among us has hardly been tapped!

Please include your current contact info or update it at https://www.andover.edu/alumni/alumni-connect. I’ll try to update email addresses by phone or regular mail. Adding my number to your iPhone contacts will help it recognize me: (303) 746-5983 (Redondo Beach, CA). Thank you!

Our 70th reunion class photo wasn’t scrapped. It just got bumped by all the commotion over the class of ’20 to the next issue. And have you heard? GW Hall is being turned over to students! Administrators are being kicked out! Is nothing sacred? What’s to become of us!

Powered by Headmaster Kemper

Steve Kaye suggested that I introduce myself, so you can blame him for what follows. Around GW Hall I was known as “Spike’s mistake.” Referring to Mr. Adriance, the admissions officer. I was let into Andover because my older brother earned his way into Exeter. A record-setting track star plus varsity football (center / linebacker) and varsity baseball (catcher). I stunk at everything except effort, so Steve Sorota took pity and tried to get me a varsity ‘A’ anyway. To put on the handsome Elander & Swanton sweater that I craved and never got. Harvard took pity too, which is how I became their mistake.

So on I went to the patchwork of accidents and mistakes that became my life story. That, like Steve Kaye, I can’t really explain. But all anyone needs to know is that it will be a pleasure to keep the spirit of our 70th Reunion alive if I can help my PA classmates connect. As your class secretary and friend.

Power to you!

Dave Harrison
(303) 746-5983
74apollo350@gmail.com

 

PA ’55 Class Notes Summer Issue Andover Magazine 2025

Posted on by David Harrison

From Steve Clarkson, ’55 Class Agent, 70th Reunion: “The school’s presentation and organization (food included) were superb. The Pan Athletic Center (2022) and the Falls Music Center (2024) are amazingly impressive. Tidbit from Art Kelly: the year we graduated the 70th reunion class was 1885, graduating just weeks after Chester Arthur finished his term as President.” 

From John Doykos , ’55 Class Agent, 70th Reunion: All had a terrific time. Beez Morton, Steve Clarkson, Ray Clevenger, John Doykos, Dave Driver, Doug Fisher, Dave Haartz, Gerry Jones (Friday night), Walt Levering, Art Murphy, Don Oasis, David Page, and Herb Woodward. “Friday night excellent buffet dinner for over 2000 alumni at the new (2018) Snyder center. Saturday morning parade from Holmes Library to Cochran Chapel to the accompaniment of several sensational numbers by the Class of ’20. Class photo in the Chapel followed by afternoon reminiscing for some of us in Sam Phil room 104. Dinner upstairs in the Mural room of the Commons, excellent fare and ‘a little more elegant’ than our day.

“Dave Page lives in Exeter, the next town over from my home in Rye Beach where I have a view of the Isles of Shoals. Where Dave Driver goes out for a singing fest every summer. Spoke recently to John Palmer, back in his roots in Portland, Maine; we golf every summer. And with Al Polk, the day before the Belmont Stakes (June 7). The year of our 25th reunion, he won the 1980 Belmont Stakes with his thoroughbred Temperance Hill at 53-1 odds. He sounds great from his home in upper Michigan.”

Notes from a recent telecon: Another malefactor has emerged from the shadows to take credit for The Great Route 28 Detour Caper, our class’s singular contribution to campus lore. Dave Gunn, anticipating a long and distinguished career in railroading, helped to derail commuter traffic down Hidden Field Road. Delighted to be able to “trap a bus,” as he put it to me, just by moving a red cone or two. A taste of raw power he would need to run Amtrak and before that every subway system on the eastern seaboard and Toronto.

He’s now the picture of contentment on picturesque Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. With a handsome view out his kitchen window of property that’s been in the family since the 1800s. Where sail boating was great on Bras d’Or Lake and you can’t see another house in any direction. The night so unpolluted by light he can see all the stars in the sky with the naked eye.

He enjoys a ferry ride to Newfoundland but it’s been a while since he’s hiked 6,288’ up New Hampshire’s Mount Washington. Time once spent at his cabin at Crawford Notch now taken up with crossword puzzles (when newspapers arrive once a week), preparing meals, and tending to his tomcat Sandy.

And preaching. At the local United Church of Canada, when the pulpit is vacant and they need a seasoned railroader to keep neighborhood gang violence under control. Just kidding about the gang violence, but Dave does take service to church seriously and to another cause. Staying away from computers. This update courtesy of 19th century technology: the telephone.

When life needs something extra after five each day Dave savors it with Navy strength dark rum, two one-ounce shots carefully measured. Adding style to talent, character, and achievement. What you would expect of peerless class leadership whose philosophy of life is to enjoy it just like he’s doing. When he isn’t bus trapping.

From Steve Kaye: “My avocation as member of the audience for classical music and as a producer-presenter of same in venues in and around Millbrook, NY have resulted in the creation of a new 501(c)(3) org called Millbrook Music Salon formed this January. We have presented four concerts with one more scheduled for June 29 with two Met Opera performers that will be the culmination of our first mini-season.

“I also do a series of music barn concerts in a slightly upgraded barn that sits in a field occupied by a herd of visiting bovines. I sometimes insist that visiting pianists play a piece by Fred Rzewski who I think was in or near our class but who disappeared to Harvard earlier than most. He is considered a major composer who spent most of his life in Europe but his work has been taken up by a few major performers, most importantly by Igor Levit.

“Our book club’s present title is a collection of letters written by Oliver Sachs ending in a series that describes his slide downhill. Among his many notable correspondents was Atul Gawande whose book Being Mortal describes what happens as one ages and says there’s nothing to be done about it so just enjoy what physical facilities you have and rejoice.  That was such good advice I pass it along.

“Somewhere deep in my background was a law career, a bit of farming, a bit of polo, a stint as newspaper editor and publisher that somehow led me to producing concerts. I can’t explain it. I really can’t.”

From Peter Parsons, former class secretary for Yale ’60. “Born in Baguio, the Philippines, I’ve made five videos on various subjects of WWII in this country, four on YouTube by searching peter charles parsons. I also have four books available in Amazon Kindle. As the oldest historian in the Philippines, I get trotted out occasionally to participate in a conference or two. Usually, I hang out under the radar.”

Richard Judson Cowles 07/28/37 – 05/06/25. PA ’55. Born Joseph Richard Callahan in Passaic, New Jersey, adopted by his stepfather as Richard Judson Cowles. Attended Andover on a scholarship, hitchhiking from Port Huron, Michigan with his Boy Scout tent, and served in the Merchant Marine on Great Lakes ore boats to pay for college at Cornell. Earned an MBA from Michigan and an MA from St. John’s College in Santa Fe, NM. Executive with the Chicago Board Options Exchange (Cboe), then on to NYC to lead the operations of Telerate Systems, guiding its rapid growth into a major global provider of financial market information. Back to Santa Fe in 1986. Lived by Socrates’ maxim, “the unexamined life is not worth living” and epitomized a life of service. At the invitation of KPMG and US AID he facilitated Russia’s and Eastern Europe’s transitions to market economies. Helped to rebuild and preserve The Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad, now a National Historic Landmark.

Next up: a remembrance of Mike “Digme” Bell 07/03/37 – 12/24/21.

Dave
Friendship isn’t everything. It’s the only thing.