Chronicling A
Last week I received an email from one of our highly qualified young English teachers. She had been talking with a student of mine about a paper I’d assigned on a contemporary American nature poem. It reminded her of a few of her own favorite modern English nature poems, which she included in her email. This sort of collegiality is one of the true delights of working in this department, along with the very practical pedagogical and technological assistance we give each other every day. Such is the deep significance of our re-congregating in the magnificent new humanities building, Townsend Hall, which was dedicated during Spirit Weekend. Here faculty and students may dwell expansively as true scholars and appreciators of learning. I haven’t room to list all my current colleagues here. I will keep talking with them daily about what they mean to me, knowing I will not be ready to say goodbye when I retire at the end of this school year. For now, I will mention a distinctive few former or long-standing colleagues in English. First is David Dougherty ’64, a fellow student who, as Senior Monitor, gave me some of my first richly deserved demerits. David’s teaching career started on a parallel track with mine, he being chair of the English Department at Episcopal while I was head of English at Woodberry. When I came back to EHS in 1987, I had the privilege of seeing firsthand David’s greatness as a teacher. I was grateful to borrow his insights on “Hamlet,” such as the importance of how the ghost is interpreted in any given production. He was instrumental in hiring me to succeed him as department chair before he went on to serve as Headmaster at North Cross School and then the Hill School in Pennsylvania, from which he recently retired. In his long teaching career at EHS from 1951-94, Allen Phillips demonstrated undisputed mastery over the fundamentals of English grammar and passed on to generations of students a profound respect for correct usage. His legendary stature was owing to his distinctive gift for inspiring students of all ranges of ability to reach deep within themselves for their finest efforts. John Walker lit up his career at EHS from 1969-2009 with a winning gift for enthusiastic reception of ideas. Though he was such a veteran himself, he always convinced his students and colleagues that they had come up with something brilliantly new. John’s continuing passion for the Adirondacks informed his deep respect for Emerson and Thoreau. He could tell when their metaphors truly touched the marrow of life. Fraser Hubbard ’68 is a wonderful Southern talker and writer who taught at EHS for 14 years. I loved waxing lyrical with Fraser between classes; I can still dazzle my students by reading aloud some of his eloquent musings on “Huckleberry Finn:” “King Solomon couldn’t divide the child in two. Huck Finn says ‘You Can’t Pray a Lie.’ And Mark Twain, apparently, has trouble writing one.” Bill Hannum brought an elegant simplicity in thought and manner (and dress!) to Episcopal for 25 years. I always felt a great depth beneath his graceful calm. One alumna memorably said that Bill Hannum was unmatched in bringing a class instantly to focus with one incisive question.
Life at Episcopal High School
“ The Class of 1999 proudly dedicates this edition of WHISPERS to Mr. W. Perry Epes and the Reverend Gail Epes, who have provided intellectual, creative, and spiritual guidance to the student body of Episcopal since 1987. Mr. Epes inspires in his students a greater understanding of literature and a desire to learn, and Mrs. Epes engages us in chapel with her pure, refreshing sermons and her gentle, powerful presence. Bringing smiles to the faces of everyone who sees them together around campus, Mr. and Mrs. Epes provide a goodness essential to the Episcopal community. As teachers, counselors, and friends, the Epeses are an inspiration to the Class of 1999 and to Episcopal High School.” – 1999 WHISPERS DEDICATION
EHS The Magazine of Episcopal High School
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