From a commencement address given at Kenyon in 2005:

Probably the most dangerous thing about college education, at least in my own case, is that it enables my tendency to over-intellectualize stuff, to get lost in abstract arguments inside my head instead of simply paying attention to what’s going on right in front of me. Paying attention to what’s going on inside me. As I’m sure you guys know by now, it is extremely difficult to stay alert and attentive instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue inside your own head. Twenty years after my own graduation, I have come gradually to understand that the liberal-arts cliché about “teaching you how to think” is actually shorthand for a much deeper, more serious idea: “Learning how to think” really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience. Because if you cannot exercise this kind of choice in adult life, you will be totally hosed. Think of the old cliché about “the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master.” This, like many clichés, so lame and unexciting on the surface, actually expresses a great and terrible truth. It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in the head. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger. And I submit that this is what the real, no-bull- value of your liberal-arts education is supposed to be about: How to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default-setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone, day in and day out.

Remembering the end of the Korean war:

July 27 is not one of those days that stirs the American soul like Dec. 7, July 4 or June 6.

We have so many memorable days in our history that forgiveness is appropriate if you can’t recall that on that day in 1953, the guns fell silent along the line of battle in Korea. Three years of killing was at an end. This year, it’s the 55th anniversary of the cease fire, so maybe there’ll be a bit more ink and airtime.

I carry in my mind’s eye recollections of two officers who paid a price while serving their country. Both were fellow second lieutenants - a rank sometimes regarded as below that of private - in the field artillery. I served with both and knew them well enough to say they were among the best, brightest and likable young men you might want to know. And, they were leaders.

[...]

First, let me tell you about Nimrod Torkomian. He was one of 200 who were in the initial formation for D Battery, Field Artillery Officer Candidate Class 17 in January 1952. Ninety of us made it to the finish line in June. “Tork” - everyone gets a nickname in the Army - must have stood on tiptoes to get in. He was 5 feet tall, maybe. But he was in superb physical condition, easily meeting the many physical demands placed upon us. He had the barracks wit needed to get through six months of OCS.

After graduation, we spent a few months in artillery battalions stateside before what we thought was the inevitable - orders to become forward observers across the hills of Korea.

Tork wound up as a forward observer with the 555th Field Artillery, an ill-fated outfit if ever there was one. They were overrun not once but three times during the course of the war, often because they weren’t given the protection they needed. Worse, their guns fell into the hands of the North Koreans and Chinese. This is close to a mortal sin for an artilleryman.

In March 1953, the Chinese caught a South Korean infantry unit unprepared and walked all over the 555th. Tork and his forward observer team were isolated at an outpost. They held out until they were out of ammo, and then stuck a white handkerchief tied to a rifle out a firing port. Tork wrote an eloquent essay about this experience, sharing it with all of us at our most recent reunion. It is not a good feeling, he said in a classic understatement, to be marched north when the U.S. Army is somewhere south of you.

The good news is that he survived, was exchanged not long after the armistice and is enjoying life in California.

Other OCS classmates tell their tales of the last day of the war when we get together. For one, it was being sent up on the line when other units were standing down in anticipation of the cease fire. Ma Parker’s son may not make it home in one piece after all, thought Roy Parker, now a lawyer in Tupelo. Another brought his wounded radioman down for help and went back to fire more missions. And so on.

Then there’s James Dorland from New Jersey, who was commissioned just before me out of OCS. We were both assigned to an anachronism, a mule artillery battalion in Camp Carson, Colorado.

When the expected orders for overseas came, Jim’s were for Korea and mine were for Germany. He accepted his with a baffled grin, and I thanked some gnome in the Pentagon for his wisdom in sending me elsewhere, even if there was a twinge of guilt.

Some years after Al Gore invented the Internet, I began to crawl the Web to find out what happened to Jim. It didn’t take long to find out that he’d been shot down over North Korea in March 1953 while calling in artillery fire as an aerial observer. He was first listed as MIA - missing in action - and later that changed to KIA - killed in action. His remains have yet to be returned.

Jim was tall, lean, witty, a graduate of Williams College. He was a quiet leader, dependable, demanding and respected, and I will never forget being his friend and serving with him.

From May 31 through July 13, WCMA is showing works by the late Emily Driscoll ‘05, an exceptionally talented artist who died last fall. Here is the College’s press release on this well-deserved honor: http://www.wcma.org/press/08/08_Driscoll.shtml

Continued well wishes to her family, including her father Dave Driscoll ‘73 and her partner Walker Waugh ‘02.  Emily’s life was short but her accomplishments and impact were disproportionately large. May she rest in peace. 

If any of you who are going to reunions, are on campus for the summer, or otherwise happen to be in Williamstown and visit the exhibit, we would be grateful to hear more about it.

A very nice obituary was published on Hank Payne in The Boston Globe over the weekend. The part I liked was the fact that he had started taking piano lessons:

“He had this sort of infectious desire to learn that manifested itself in him, and by example in other people,” Johnson said. “I tell people he’s the kind of person who takes piano lessons at 59. He took up piano lessons just like a first-grader. I told that at the graveside service, and a woman walked up after and said: ‘I want to introduce myself. I’m the piano teacher.’ I said, “Was he doing well? And she said, ‘Very well.’ “

Another nice comment was:

“He would have a national search [at Woodward Academy] and could get the very best,” he said. “People would come from wherever they were because they wanted to work for Hank Payne. People loved to work for him because they learned so much, and they loved to work for him because he had such a light touch in terms of management style.”

Other comments I’ve seen over the past several days include:

Nancy McIntire said, “He was a wonderful boss. I liked working with him a lot. He was very accessible. He had a wonderful sense of humor. And he was very, very smart.”

‘Here is this bright, funny, thoughtful guy, great job, broad interests, lovely family; he’s got everything going for him,’ ” said Jane Leavey, the Breman Museum’s executive director.

“I tell people I never in my life met anybody who was that smart who was as modest, self-effacing, fun,” said Johnson, the managing partner of the law firm Alston & Bird.

I received the following e-mail due to my affiliation with the Williams cross country team. I hope that anyone in the Concord, MA area would consider attending this event.

Celebrate! Remember! and Honor!
The Life of Adrian Martinez
Monday, April 30th (rain or shine)
7:00 pm Emerson Track, Concord, MA.

Adrian Martinez ‘06, who would turn 23 this Monday, April 30th, graduated from Concord-Carlisle High School in 2002 and Williams College in 2006. He was an avid and accomplished runner and athlete who valued family, friendship, and above all else, citizenship.

Friends are invited to participate in ‘23 Laps for Adrian’ by walking, running, talking, sharing, and signing a guest book which will be sent to the Martinez family. In addition, donations will be collected for the Adrian A. Martinez Memorial Scholarship Fund, a fund established in 2006 by Adrian’s family to commemorate his passion for learning and distance running.

(more…)

From: Jonathan.N.Misk@williams.edu
To: williams-students@williams.edu
Subject: Virginia Tech Vigil

To the Williams Community,

Tomorrow–Monday, April 23rd–marks the one-week anniversary of the horrible events at Virginia Tech. In remembrance of the victims, Williams College Council, in conjunction with Rick Spalding and the Chaplain’s Office, is planning a day of remembrance and a candlelight vigil in which we hope you can all take part.

(more…)

A temporary bronze plaque honoring Nathan Krissoff ‘03 should be placed in Thompson Memorial Chapel in time for the June 10th Annual Alumni Memorial Service.

The traditional protocol, which the college is to be highly commended for following, is as follows:

Only Ephs who have fallen in battle get their names inside the Chapel sanctuary.

With the excpetion of Ephraim Williams himself, the following information is listed for each fallen Eph:

Name
Class Year
Place of Death
Date of Death

Nate’s temporary bronze plaque will read

Nathan M. Krissoff ‘03 Iraq December 9, 2006

{Ephraim Williams has the actual battle listed instead of the geographic location of his death, and, obviously, he has no Class Year.}

Facing the back of the Chapel, up on the left back wall is a large stone scroll with the names from the Korean and Vietnam Wars. The right back wall is currently empty.

Nathan’s bronze plaque will be placed on the right back wall. If other names need to be added, each will get his own plaque to be placed on the wall with Nathan’s. When all of the names are known, the plaques will be removed. A stone scroll to match the other wall will be put up, and the names permanently placed in the stone scroll. The temporary plaques will be given to the families.

S. Lane Faison died on Saturday, November 11, at his home in Williamstown, according to an obituary today in The Boston Globe.

While an entire generation of Williams graduates may not know the name — he retired from Williams in 1976 — he was one of the Williams Art History triumvirate (Whit Stoddard, architectural history; Bill Pierson, photography) that educated the “Williams Mafia” at America’s art museums.

Burt K. Todd ‘46 died in mid-May. In its opening paragraphs, The New York Times obituary notes,

Son of a wealthy Pittsburgh steel, glass and banking family, Mr. Todd combined the larger-than-life appetites of an F. Scott Fitzgerald hero with the lust for adventure of a 19th-century explorer. His job defied description, although it entailed both the businessman’s art of the deal and the confidence man’s gift of gab.

A dazzling raconteur, Mr. Todd flew airplanes and maintained an impressive collection of vintage cars. He hunted leopards and rhinoceroses and once was treed in Bhutan by a rampaging elephant.

Impulsive, expansive, incurably restless, Mr. Todd might bundle his family into his jet on short notice. His sense of direction was not the best, and they didn’t always wind up where they intended. Wherever Mr. Todd turned up, something exciting was likely: a great story, a new friendship or perhaps a deal involving rum, seaweed or other goods.

Mr. Todd finessed his way into graduate school at Oxford despite having only one year of college; he trekked hundreds of miles through Nepal and was the first American to visit Bhutan, the last of the forbidden kingdoms of the Himalayas.

In short, an 81-year life full of zing.

Unfortunately, the class of ‘03 received some very bad news recently. I’m extremely sad to report that Shirin Shakir ‘03 has died in the prime of her life, many decades before her time.

To all members of the Harvard Law School community:

It is with great sadness that I let you know that Shirin Shakir ‘07 died in a boating accident in Peru during spring break. Shirin will be terribly missed. She was a member of Section 4 and an active participant in the Law School Council, the Public Interest Auction, and the International Law Society. I know many of you will join me in sending your thoughts and prayers to Shirin’s family and friends: Dean Ellen Cosgrove will be able to provide contact information soon. We will hold a memorial service at the Law School later this spring to celebrate the life and mourn the loss of a wonderful member of our community.

Best,
Elena Kagan

I just feel numb. I wasn’t more than a casual acquaintance of Shirin’s, but the suddenness of her death is especially shocking. My only point of reference is the summer after my sophomore year at Williams when I found out that an acquaintance in my high school class had died after a long battle with scleroderma. With Camille, it was just a question of when.

Here is a picture of Shirin (center) at the Harvard Law Students Audiophiles party less than two weeks ago on 3/21.

I know that all of you will join me in wishing my most sincere and heartfelt condolances to Shirin’s family and friends. I really don’t know what else to say… just that I needed to say something about the life of an Eph in my class cut tragically short.

Update: 2:20 pm.
Sumant Bhat ‘03 sends along the link to a forum for postings remembering Shirin at www.RememberShirin.com.

It was with sudden sadness and shock that I came across the news of Aidan’s passing:

Aidan Martin Crane, October 18, 1991 - March 19, 2006.

Words escape me, as does the futility of words.

In the middle of our Monday morning staff meeting, I had been looking for Rachel Barenblat’s exact words,

“I know how difficult that is for me as an outsider to each situation; I can only marvel at how difficult it must be for you as a parent.”

and I quickly came, again, to Sam’s words,

“Never have I felt a pain so deep, a hurt so overwhelming. That is how it should be, I suppose, when a child dies. But that is not the only thing in my mind…”

In this moment, I am amazed at the pain in my own head, the sudden disorientation and cognitive dissonance, the rush of my mind to many other things, events, happinesses, and profound losses.

What must it be like for Sam?

I can only return to litany, to reciting the Kaddish, and the hope, that all our thoughts and prayers now be with Sam, with Maureen, and with their family.

Travis R. Merritt ‘55, former professor of literature at MIT, died a few weeks ago.

“Travis Merritt was a deeply committed professor of literature who ran the Humanities Office for many years where his devotion to Course 21 majors was legion. He was a superb undergraduate mentor,” said Philip S. Khoury, Dean of the School of Humanities, Arts, and Social Sciences.

There is no better indication of the geekiness — and I mean that as a compliment — of MIT than that it numbers the majors and the buildings.

Merritt retired as dean of undergraduate affairs in 1996. At the time, he declared, he would spend more time with his family, travel to the Greek Islands and concentrate on his favorite hobby, creating leaded stained glass.

Within the year, he had become director of the Experimental Study Group, bringing his commitment and delight in MIT to yet another generation of students.

Merritt, like all great teachers, could no more stop interacting with the undergraduates he so loved than he could stop breathing the very air of Cambridge.

The Eph English professors of Merritt’s generation are passing away. Alan Casson ‘53 died a few months ago. Are there Eph’s teaching English at places like MIT and USC from classes in the 1980s? I can’t think of any off-hand, but English is not my field, as the saying goes. Any Eph trying to get a job as a professor of English in this day and age faces very long odds indeed.

Condolences to all.

UPDATE: Edited to be less tacky. See comments below.

Patrick Parker ‘51, former president, CEO and chairman of Parker Hannifan, passed away.

Under Pat Parker’s direction, Parker Hannifin, which was founded by his father in 1918, grew substantially in size, global reach and product breadth: From the ’60s through the ’90s, he guided the company’s expansion into a wide array of hydraulic, pneumatic and electromechanical products solidifying its position as the global leader in motion and control technologies. Now an $8 billion enterprise, the firm had annual sales of $197 million in 1968 when Parker was named president.

Parker was extremely active in charitable activities, but seems to have had little if anything to do with Williams. I can’t find any listing of him on the College website. This might mean that he insisted on discretion in his gifts to the College, but I suspect some other story.

Condolences to all.

Chuck King ‘48 died in Williamstown on July 3rd. His obituary in the North Adams Transcript mentions that he worked in finance for Chemical Bank and Merck, and then was a lawyer for a number of years.

However, I knew Chuck from his volunteer work for Williams. He had been both President and Class Agent for his class; he was a Vice Chair of the Alumni Fund from 1997-2002, and had begun another three-year term last year. He was rather quiet — certainly not the most loquacious or the most outspoken member of the Vice Chair Committee — but someone who would make his point-of-view known and then let others speak.

The Williams community will miss Chuck in two ways. First, and perhaps most importantly, he was a nice fellow. Second, Chuck was a member of that small but valuable group of alumni that gives a lot of volunteer time to the college, raising money and creating goodwill. Without such people giving of their time, the college’s outreach and fundraising programs would cost more and probably be less successful.

Thanks to a Williamstown reader for this link to the obituary for Professor Richard Sabot.

Condolences to all.

I just received this e-mail.

EphBlog readers will be saddened to learn that Dick Sabot passed away on Wednesday. He died of a heart attack while exercising at The Springs in Williamstown.

I can’t find confirmation on the web, but I can’t imagine why someone would lie to us. Sabot was a fine professor 20 years ago and, by all accounts, a stand-up guy. He was also kind enough to answer my Williams-related questions on several occasions.

Condolences to all.

John Firmin ‘38 has passed away. He led an interesting life.

Mr. Firmin joined the FBI in the summer of 1941, working in Washington, Oklahoma City, New Jersey, and New York City.

Later in life, he shared with his family stories of his experiences tracking German agents and sympathizers.

One of those stories took place shortly before the United States joined the war, when Mr. Firmin was part of a team assigned to the German consulate. The team planted an agent as the building’s incinerator operator.

Once the war started, the Germans carefully bundled up their confidential papers and took them to be incinerated. Because the papers were so tightly bound, the FBI agent was able to get them out before they burned.

Condolences to all.