obituaries

1941 Edward Coleman Hall, 97, passed away peacefully on Nov. 7, 2019. He was born on May 31, 1922, and was educated in the Worcester schools and graduated from Hebron Academy. He began college at the University of Maine, but then World War II began. He enlisted in the Army Air Corps. and was trained as a B-24 pilot. Ed returned from the service, married the love of his life, Dorothy Moran of Portland, and completed his Bachelor of Science degree in Mechanical Engineering. He served on the boards of the Mohegan Council Boy Scouts, the Montachusett Council Girl Scouts, and the Heifer Project among others. Ed was a proud member of Rotary International from 1963 until his death and served as president in the Worcester Rotary Club.

1942 George E. Ferris, of Kingston passed away Saturday, January 11, 2020. After growing up in Hanson, he graduated from Whitman High School and attended both Hebron Academy and Valparaiso University. In 1943, he enlisted in the Navy in aviation electronics. He met his wife Kay, the love of his life, whom he married on February 7, 1947. George spent most of his career working as transportation manager for Howard Johnson’s and during his “retirement” he kept busy with a small lawn care business and worked part-time at the Marshfield Country Club until he was ninety. Family and friends were first in his life and brought him great joy, entertainment, and much laughter. Roy Louis Byrnes M.D. passed away peacefully surrounded by family. Roy was born in Newton, MA, and attended UCLA for undergraduate studies and received his medical degree from the Keck School of Medicine. Roy traveled to the Aleutian Islands for a medical school internship, beginning his lifelong love for Alaska, and returned to complete a residency in pathology at Los Angeles County Hospital. Roy met his future wife Ilse on a weekend ski trip, and the couple were married in 1954 and lived in Germany where Roy was a Captain in the US Army. They later returned to the United States and settled in Orange County to raise their family. Roy immersed himself in medicine, working at South Coast Community Hospital and Mission Hospital. Roy had an amazing intellect and curiosity of the world. He loved to travel.

1943 Ralph A. Parmigiane ,96, of Medfield on January 30th. Born and raised in Worcester, Ralph was an orphan of the Depression and was raised by his aunt Anna Holst and uncle Adolf Carlson. Ralph was a three sport athlete at Worcester and after graduation studied at Hebron Academy. Drafted into the U.S. Navy in 1943, he served in the Aleutian Islands and Pacific Theater. After the war, he graduated from Springfield College in 1949 and received his Masters in Biology in 1953. He taught science for many years and coached the 1954 Stephens High School football team of Rumford, ME, to the State Championship. Ralph moved to Medfield and coached both the Needham Football and Basketball teams for many years. Ralph was a coach, teacher and administrator at Needham High School until his retirement in 1985. Ralph spent his retirement summering at Embden Pond in Maine for 30 years.

1948 John S. (Jack) Webber, age 90, passed away on February 11. Born in Gloucester on August 30, 1929, Jack Webber was devoted to his family and community. A gifted athlete, he was elected to the sports hall of fame for both baseball and basketball at every school he attended, including Gloucester High School ‘47, Hebron Academy and Bucknell University ‘52. He married his love Doris (Anderson) Webber in 1953, and together they enjoyed nearly 48 years of marriage blessed by the lives of their daughter Jill and granddaughter Lauren.

After graduating from Bucknell he was drafted by the Chicago White Sox and was the top fielding shortstop while playing for the team’s minor league affiliate in the Wisconsin State League. While serving in the Army from 1952-1954 in San Antonio, Texas, Jack was a star shortstop for the Brooke Army Medical Center baseball teams that won Army World Series championships. Following his professional athletic career and military service, Jack had a long and successful career as an insurance broker. He returned to a professional baseball career, working as a New England scout for the Cincinnati Reds, Seattle Mariners and Los Angeles Dodgers. He loved supporting and mentoring local athletes, and recruiting top local talent for Bucknell. As gifted as he was on the ballfields and basketball courts of his youth, Jack may be best remembered locally for his prowess on Gloucester’s playgrounds, where he played competitively well into his 50s. He remained sharp and lucid until his final days, taking a genuine and caring interest in the lives of everyone in his wide circle of friends and family members.

1949 James “Jim” Sawyer passed away on Sept. 10, 2019. Jim was born on Feb. 6, 1931 in Auburn and went to school at Edward Little High School and Hebron Academy. After serving in the Army for three years he continued his education at Bates College and Syracuse University, becoming a professor of radio and TV communications at The College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, VA. For several summers Jim returned to Maine to work at youth camps, and at Burleigh Hill sailing camp he fell in love with a staff member from central WA, Elaine Elenbaas. She became his wife, and they celebrated their 52nd wedding anniversary in June 2019. Jim’s teaching career took him, Elaine, and their children, to various colleges and universities across the country. After decades of teaching, Jim and Elaine moved to New Gloucester, where he designed and built a log home for their retirement. He found a new passion in family history, and wrote a semi-fictional book, A Sea-Farer’s Journal, about the voyages Captain Abram Healy made with his wife and children in the nineteenth century. Benjamin E. Jeffries, died October 20, 2019, in Blue Hill, ME9. Raised in Milton, MA, he graduated from Milton Academy in 1948, from Hebron Academy and then from Harvard, where he received his A.B. in Economics in 1953. Ben was a veteran of the U.S. Army, served in the Berlin Occupation Force in Germany and was honorably discharged. He was a manufacturing executive for a commercial stainless-steel dishwashing company called Adamation in Newton, MA and rose to the position of President before retiring. Next, he took on the challenge of becoming owner and operator of a popular restaurant called Modern Times Cafe in Cambridge, MA (now Oleanna). One food reviewer wrote, “Old hippies don’t die, they go to Modern Times Café.” Ben retired to the Maine coast to pursue his lifelong passion of cruising solo or with family on his boats. Ben was also an avid bird hunter with his dog “Cassiopeia” and enjoyed splitting wood and shooting clays. Ben was a gentleman and a gentle man…a real New Englander who was quiet, but when he spoke he meant what he said. He was devoted to his immediate and extended family.

1950 Robert Newell Oxford, Jr., passed away on Saturday, December 7, 2019. After Winchester High, Bob attended Hebron Academy and then graduated from Dartmouth College in 1954 with a degree in mechanical engineering. Bob served as a Lieutenant in the Army and instructor in the Ordinance School

at the Aberdeen Proving Ground. While serving in the military, Bob met and married Allison Lea Bailey. Upon leaving the service, he lived in Wayland, MA, working at Raytheon where he negotiated government contracts. In 1969 Bob and his family moved to Milford, NH, and after retiring from Raytheon, Bob joined his wife in ownership of Impressions Pottery by Oxford making handcrafted wildflower pottery. Their one-of-a-kind earthenware pottery was well known throughout New England.

Bertram Bandman, 89, on October 23rd. Bertram was born in Shanghai China, March 6, 1930. He attended a British parochial elementary school in Shanghai where as a budding philosopher, Bertram was constantly getting his ears pulled because he asked the nuns “why” about almost all matters. Bertram and his mother Edith fled to Manila, Philippines when the Japanese invaded China in 1937. Soon after, Bertram was sent to live with an American family in Baguio for his health. When the Japanese invaded in 1941- 42, a white boy mistaken for a member of the American family, Bertram spent a year and a half in a Japanese internment camp. When the war ended, he was reunited with his mother in Manila and worked at the U.S. Army officers’ mess washing dishes. At age 16, Bertram secured entry into the United States and graduated from Hebron Academy in Maine. He then moved to New York City to attend Columbia University. Bertram completed a bachelors’ and masters’ degrees and his Doctorate in Education in 1962. He met his future wife, Elsie Lucier, and they fell in love over their discussions of politics, philosophy, education and health care. Bertram became a professor of philosophy at Long Island University where he taught for forty years. In 1985, Bertram and Elsie purchased their first home in Hatfield, MA to be near their daughter.

1952 Richard J. Simonds, 85, died June 15 at his home in Chelan, WA. Simonds, who also had been battling Parkinson’s disease, had lived in Chelan since 1998. Born and raised in Winchester, MA, he attended Winchester High School and graduated from Hebron Academy. He then served in the Navy, where he was posted to a ship in Pearl Harbor, HI. After leaving the Navy in 1960, Simonds earned a B.S. in Economics from Tufts University and completed graduate work at the University of Chicago. He entered the insurance brokerage industry and worked in Cleveland and Boston before joining Aon’s Chicago office in 1965. Simonds was a longtime corporate insurance broker for Aon Corp. While at Aon, Simonds earned an MBA from the University of Chicago. In 1977, Simonds joined the Chicago Golf Club in Wheaton and served as the Club’s president. He was low-key, but certainly was not without opinions. He was not only a family man but a good friend.” Chicago lawyer Kevin O’Keefe, another fellow CGC member recalled Simonds’ wide range of interests and his love of woodworking. After retiring from Aon, Simonds and his wife moved to Chelan, where he enjoyed fishing and hiking. He also was active as president of the Lake Chelan Historical Society and built his own rowing shell.

1954 Bruce J. Spaulding, passed away on Friday, January 17, 2020. Bruce was born in Syracuse, N.Y. Bruce’s family moved to New London, NH in 1937. He graduated from New London High School and Hebron Academy, and earned a BS in Mechanical Engineering in 1958 from the University of New Hampshire. Bruce married Sue Staley. His first job was with Metcalf and Eddy, a consulting firm in Boston, MA. In 1959, Bruce enlisted in the Navy, attended Naval Officer Training School in Newport, RI and joined the Civil Engineering Corp. He was first stationed in Adak in the Aleutian Islands, followed by NAS Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA. Bruce started his business career with Borg-Warner in 1962 (becoming York International) in Sales Management. He had 35 years of service with York, was Regional Manager for 22 years in the Houston Office, and concluded his career as President of Natkin Services, a York Acquisition. Bruce and Sue, with their two sons, Jeffrey and Steven, lived in Houston for 35 years. In 2003, they bought a home in Round Top, TX. Bruce loved their home in the country where they would make many new friends.

1956 Richard A. Johnson, age 81, of Lincoln, died Thursday, January 31. Mr. Johnson was a graduate of Hebron Academy and also attended Wentworth Institute of Technology and the University of New Hampshire. He enjoyed a successful career as a shopping center developer for Zayers, Boston Development Associates, and Horizons Management Associates. In his free time, Mr. Johnson enjoyed fishing, skiing and participating in triathlons.

Terrance W. Humphrey, 81, of Franklin, passed away on Sept. 26, 2019. Terrance was born in Portland, ME, grew up in Newton, MA. He earned his BA degree from Boston University, a MA in education from Boston College, and a MA in family therapy from Antioch University. He was a teacher for many years in MA and NH. He loved the outdoors. He had a private practice in NH as a marriage and family therapist and was well known for his work and help at the Spaulding Youth Center. Terrance was an important part of the AA community and helped many over 47 years. He will be fondly remembered for his big heart, storytelling abilities, and wonderful mustache.

1959 Edward M. Caplan 78, of Swampscott, entered eternal rest on Friday, October 11th. Ed was a comtroller for Polaroid, a member of the Polaroid Retiree Association, and Past President of Temple Beth El. Ed met his love on Fisherman’s Beach in Swampscott, Diana’s hometown, and they were inseparable for the next 57 years. They enjoyed everything together. Ed was a wonderful father who supported his sons while giving them the freedom to grow. He also loved the time he spent with his granddaughters and cherished their graduation ceremonies, sporting events, violin and dance recitals, and vacations.

1961 Nathaniel Tileston, 77, passed away on August 7. Nat was born in Greenfield, MA. After graduating from Lawrence University, Appleton, WI, in 1966, he studied photography at the Art Institute of Chicago before moving to New York City to work for dance/ theatre photographer Martha Swope. He then worked as a free-lance photographer, documenting the vibrant New York dance scene during the 70s. Some of his images are part of the Whitney Museum of American Art’s permanent collection and were shown at exhibitions in New York and Europe. In 1982, he and his wife Susan moved to Annapolis Royal, NS, where they bought and ran The Moorings Bed & Breakfast for 16 years and where Nat was known to answer the phone with a very New York phrase: ‘Whadda ya want?’ He was beloved by his community and served as President of the Board of Trade and Chair of the King’s Theatre board of directors. “He always said he couldn’t count, but we could always count on him,” said one of his friends. Nat and Susan started the MY STORY photo project in 2006, working with Burmese refugees on the Thai/Myanmar border for six months every year. Using digital cameras and teaching basic photo techniques, the project gives participants a creative way to document their lives. The project took them to Myanmar, Mexico, India, Vietnam, and Sri Lanka. Nat always said he learned more from the students than they learned from him.

1965 Phillip Jackson Hinman, age 72, was born to eternal life on January 30, 2020 surrounded by loved ones after a courageous battle with pancreatic cancer. Phil was born on September 1, 1947 in Mexico City, Mexico. Phil earned his baccalaureate degree at Florida Southern University and his master’s degree in Finance at the Wharton School of Business. He married Regina Marie Reynolds in 1969 in FL, and in 1978, they adopted their daughter Devlynn and moved to Brookfield, WI. He was married to Gina for 40 years until she passed away in 2009. Phil spent a great deal of his life helping others. He was treasurer of the Board of Directors of the Waukesha County Land Conservancy and a community volunteer. He loved nature and the sound of the rain and thunderstorms. He said it reminded him of his childhood when he would listen to the rain outside his bedroom window. Phil worked for Allis Chalmers, a Children’s Theater, and then for Fiserv as a financial executive. He retired from Fiserv in 2013 and began to volunteer as an usher for community theaters and ballets. Similarly, Phil’s love of sports began early. He was a passionate fan of baseball, football, and basketball, although golf was his favorite. Besides golf, his other hobbies were travelling and fishing. He celebrated his 70th birthday at the Grand Canyon and in 2018 traveled to Southern France. Each spring, he would fish with his brother Jeff in Bokelia, FL. Phil was later honored to go on the Stars and Stripes Honor Flight in June 2019 with his beloved daughter Devlynn, a trip which enriched his life as he was so moved by the recognition given for service to his country. Phil received a National Defense Service Medal and was honorably discharged from service.

1990 Timothy S. Bell passed away unexpectedly on September 29, 2019. He was born in Lewiston on April 6, 1971. He attended Leavitt Area High School and Hebron Academy. After high school, he moved to Philadelphia, PA with two of his best friends and started his career in hospitality as he worked in some of the finest restaurants and hotels. Tim had a taste for the finer things in life, making hospitality a good fit for him. He had other talents that allowed him to begin another career in landscape design. He was an avid gardener and took pride in the work he did for private clients and friends. Among his talents, Tim may have been best known for his quick wit, and his laughter and smile will be missed by those who knew and loved him.

Past Faculty Richard G. Stratton Jan. 4, 1936 - Oct. 12, 2019. Richard George ‘Dick’ Stratton died Oct. 12. He was 83. Born in Portland, Maine, he had an affinity for reading at an early age. His sister, Ann Stratton Castle, said he “could read before he started school by asking about the letters on the cereal boxes and milk bottles. His love of reading lasted his entire life, with Shakespeare at the top of his list.” He was a Brown Scholar at Portland High School, where he was a member of the state champion swimming team. Awarded full academic scholarships by several colleges, he chose Colby College in Waterville, Maine, and graduated with honors in 1957. From 1960 to 1973, he was an English and history teacher at Hebron Academy, where he also coached swimming and football. A shining moment for him at Hebron came when his swimming team defeated the one led by his former coach at Portland. During his Hebron years, he earned a master’s degree in Liberal Studies (MALS) in 1970 from Wesleyan University.

Mr. Stratton went to Nichols School in 1973 to begin a career that spanned more than forty years. He served twice as chairman of the English Department, from 1982 to 1991 and from 1998 to 2003. He was president of the school’s Cum Laude Society from 1982 to 1988. Mr. Stratton was always the consumate English teacher, but his contributions to the school and its students went well beyond his classroom. Nichols Head of School Christopher Burner said, “His teaching was the embodiment of Nichols’ mission of preparing students’ minds, bodies and hearts for the work of life. He dedicated his life to education, and he taught generations of students how to write exceptionally well. Whitney “Whit” Blair, of Brunswick, Maine, died on Oct. 6, 2019, at age 95. Whit was born in 1924, spent his childhood in Wayland, and then attended Phillips Exeter Academy. He served in the U.S. Army in World War II and then attended Harvard College, graduating in 1945. Whit was an active and proud alumnus of both Exeter and Harvard and was a regular organizer and attendee of many alumni events. Staying in touch with his friends from both schools was near and dear to his heart. Whit taught Latin at Hebron from 1948-1951. It was at Hebron, during a football game, that he met Susan Bridge, and they were married in 1952. Whit and Susan raised their four children in Rye, New York, where Whit was a teacher of Latin and Greek at Rye Country Day School (RCDS) for over 33 years, and served as the Chair of the Classics Department. Music was an integral part of his life for his personal enjoyment as well as for instilling that same passion in his children who ultimately followed with musical pursuits of their own. Susan and Whit enjoyed hiking and camping. Whitney and Susan retired to Brunswick, ME in 1996 where they enjoyed the company of family and a new community of friends. Whit took classes at Bowdoin College, continued his study of piano, sang with the Choral Arts Society in Portland, and regularly played roles in productions at The Theater Project.

Dr. Charles J. Gross, Jr. was born and raised in Medford, MA. Student, teacher, colleague and friend, kindling and fostering relationships with others were simultaneously Dr. Gross’s life’s work and greatest joy. Charles’ early years were not fruitful academically… but when he was able to concentrate on languages (French, Spanish, Latin, Greek), school had a new meaning for him. Many times in his teaching years he would inspire struggling students with his own stories of failure. Charles went on to earn his PhD. in Classics from The University of North Carolina in 1960, and he taught in numerous high schools and colleges, including the Berkshire School, Hebron and the University of Mississippi, during his 50+ years in the classroom. Charles lived a self-directed, simple life, acquiring few possessions but many friends. Other than teaching or taking a class, a meal with friends or a trip to the movies were some of his favorite pastimes.

Condolences to past faculty member Al Switzer on the passing of his wife, Betsy J. Switzer.

Tommy Don Cowgill, a retired educator and longtime former resident of West Dennis, MA, died February 3, 2020, of complications from Parkinson’s Disease. Born March 25, 1936, in Dallas, TX, Tommy was a 1954 graduate of W.H. Adamson High School and served in the United States Army. He earned a B.S. from North Texas State University and an M.A.T. from the University of Chicago. Tom had a long career as a high school math teacher, technology teacher and coach that spanned some 35 years and including time at St. Mark’s School of TX, Kent School in CT, St. Mark’s School in MA, Cushing Academy in MA, and Hebron.

Please send edits or corrections to broy@ hebronacademy.org. We apologize for any misinformation.

It is with sadness that we report the recent passing of legendary former English teacher Richard “Dick” Stratton who taught at Hebron from 1960 – 1973 and also coached swimming and football. As Bob Waite ’68 said, “Dick loved literature and he encouraged his students to approach everything they read with an open mind and a critical eye. He was a hard but fair marker – in truth he made us all better at writing than we ever dreamed we might be.” Here follows several remembrances from Hebron alumni: Richard Stratton was my camp counselor one summer when I was 12 or 13 years old. How we despised one another. Decades later he confided to me that he had urged, indeed warned, Headmaster Claude Allen not to admit me. When I graduated from Hebron in 1965, Mr. Stratton was only in his late twenties. Yet that ‘Mr.’ was so deeply burned into the beginnings of our relationship that for the next fifty years, ‘Dick’ always had an awkward hitch when I addressed him. From the start, he seemed to come from a much earlier time, far longer ago than the ten years or so that separated us. He seemed to embody a spartan code of organization, authority, discipline, respect, loyalty, effort, principles, and passion. His booming voice, and glowering presence as a swimming coach is fondly remembered by my roommate Tad Clark. Mr. Stratton was a performer of outsized theatricality on the stage, as well as in his studied readings in English class and during seminars. Beyond anything else that mattered to me at Hebron, Stratton’s explorations into Hawthorne, Dostoyevsky, Melville, and Tolstoy mattered. Teacher and mentor, Mr. Stratton conveyed, more purely than any other teacher I would ever have, the belief that such reading of such art was not a matter of grades and scores or of what college we might attend or how much money we might make but simply what kind of life we would live. He was the real thing.

Stories and anecdotes were as important to him as breathing. The artful cursive commentaries he lavished in the margins and conclusions of our student essays evidenced his intelligence, honor, and scrupulous sense of responsibility. In future years, whenever I published stories, his astute remarks were sure to follow. When he visited my farm in the mountains of Maine he would regale me with tales of Hebron in the sixties. And he would tell my children stories of those days. For in the end, he was a performer and a storyteller. How many times did I hear his account of my teenage daughter, Ida, crossing the porch where he and I were talking, with Anna Karenina, clamped under her arm. “Finally, Mikey,” she muttered as she passed us by, “I’ve found someone almost as boring as you—Levin!” Stratton threw back his head and laughed with deep relish. Most clearly, I remember the eve of our graduation in 1965. My father was dying. I went to Mr. Stratton’s room and told him that I did not want my father to have to attend the graduation unless I had won the English prize. “I’m sorry,” he said, “there’s no way I can tell you the results before the awards are presented.” Angrily, I turned to leave. “Rothschild,” he frowned, looking downward, “but perhaps your father would like the ceremony.” Michael Rothschild, ‘65

One last time I write for Stratton Stratton was highly visible from the very first, a big guy with voice to match, famously formidable head and large, easily animated features. He was driven by passion for teaching, especially literature and writing, and was blessed with a will to entertain and the talent to do so. It didn’t hurt that he was a terrific raconteur blessed with comic instincts and timing the likes of which we’d never before encountered. He could be pretty tough too. To be sure, we boys of the little patriarchal community at Hebron Academy from 1960- 73 regarded Dick Stratton, an archetypal authority figure, with something like awe: football coach, track coach, swimming coach, play director, and English teacher of wicked high standards. If he suspected you were up to something he could be pretty intimidating, whether you were on his corridor or not. In later years I had the devil of a time bringing myself to call him anything but “Mr. Stratton” or “Sir.” “Dick” came only with difficulty and sometimes still caught in my throat. The guy we knew as students was just plain Stratton. He held court twice daily in the dining hall’s NW corner, regaling the boys at his table with lively narratives using a broad range of actorly effects. His tales animated the follies, foibles and contretemps of Hebron students and faculty past and present, and were deftly crafted to set-up surefire punch lines. So at dinner when you looked up to see what caused such sudden hilarity in Stratton’s corner he’d already be gone, sashaying out triumphant, leaving the table of laughing boys to rock in his wake. By his own account and with solid corroboration he and fellow teachers of his cohort occasionally engaged in what might now be called “carousing” on their rare, cherished nights off. These revels helped develop deep friendships and a whole range of tales with which to amuse us. I have clear mental pictures of faculty from before my time like Al Switzer and Ralph Quintana along with former students I never knew because of the prominent roles they played in Stratton’s ongoing and oft-told oral history of the Hebron Comedy. He must have been all of twenty-four when Claude hired him. (Remember twenty-four?) A Brown Scholar at South Portland HS, he lettered on the state champion swim team and chose Colby from a nice selection of full rides: then one hitch in the US Army, and a year of Cornell grad school later, Claude added him to the formidable cadre of capable

young men who wrangled, instructed, disciplined and modeled adulthood for us at Hebron. My first Fall in Maine I had never been in a play. When Stratton cast me in Lady Gregory’s The Rising of the Moon, a one-act Irish melodrama set during the Rising of 1916, it unveiled to me new possibilities for selfexpression. I had to work hard and smart to learn my lines and keep up with schoolwork since we rehearsed during evening study hall. Stratton did his excellent best to help me understand the circumstances my character faced, what all the crazy Irish jargon meant, and he demonstrated how it’s supposed to sound! He taught me an extremely useful Irish dialect straight out of blue collar South Portland by speaking my lines to me the way he’d heard his Irish father and immigrant neighbors speak. He used his will to make me better and by gum I got better! In doing that play I achieved a life-long friend in Al Rubottom ’64, a life-long mentor in Dick Stratton, and a love for theatre that became a profession, a career, and now a life. Despite his love of theatre, Dick’s greatest role may have been as coach of our 1965 Maine State Championship swimming team. Meticulously organized, in excellent communication with his leadership, absolutely up to speed on the latest training protocols from Jim Counsilman at Iowa, he looked 100% the part: clipboard, stop watch and whistle on lanyards, sweatshirt shorts and flip flops. Knowledgeable and confident, he fashioned detailed training plans, long term and short. He was our Parcells, our Belichick. We trusted him, we did our jobs and trained hard, then trained harder, and then we won, again and again. School records fell across the board. When we defeated his alma mater their squad was still led by the same man who’d been Stratton’s own coach years before when South Portland was State Champs. And in the final meet of the season we’d defeat touted Bangor and take the State Championship back to Hebron. But it was writing for Stratton that got me up in the morning sophomore year. One more chance to evoke from him those incisive comments he inscribed on our papers in that elegant hand -- at least a few sentences, often more -- evidence incontrovertible that he’d read our papers closely and cared about our writing as few others ever could. Since we wrote two or three times a week for English back then, every few days we had to scribble and submit another clutch of handwritten pages. Waiting to get graded papers back was excruciating. Anticipation built through breakfast, carried over to the school building and dallied 1st period in the reading room’s

warm leather club chairs. Since when, I’d like to know, do 16 year old boys look forward to English class with such eager anticipation, such excitement, week in and out the way Tom Laney and I did that year? At the bell we’d leap from our seats to navigate the crush from one end of the school building to the other, passing Claude’s office to the accompaniment of much creaking and groaning from the ancient 2nd flooring and staircase; and as we streamed into our seats there they sat, a stack of graded papers on the corner of his desk like paychecks or doughnuts or any object of desire. How does one manage the wait?

Perhaps that day Stratton would have us write in class on the prior night’s reading— he’d do that unannounced every few weeks to keep us on our toes. Or sometimes he’d read to us. A fine showman and homeric raconteur, Stratton delights and instructs when reading aloud as few others could: Jonathan Swift, Mark Twain, Joe Heller’s Catch 22, each reading a possible occasion for one of those superb performances that convulses us in laughter, rolling literally in the aisles until the guffaws fade and we try to breathe again, collect ourselves, whew, and then Grossman snorts and starts it all over: sobbing, weeping, wailing Biblical laughter, involuntary diaphragmatic spasms, sweet balm for the psyche and welcome release for us, we blooming male adolescents who needed any help we could get. And when class was over and he finally dealt out that stack of graded papers they triggered squeals, howls, groans and solemn silence on receipt. His comments pierced our psyches and released huge jolts of dopamine or something like it. How else to explain our desperate desire to know what he thought? And it’s fair to say that in early 60’s Hebron, writing was a serious competitive enterprise. Nor did it long remain a secret who got what. Stratton’s praise was rare and much cherished, so word that he’d awarded a high grade or bestowed a compliment resonated through the school. “What did you get?” and “what did he say?” rang out across the bowl. A/A was rare as hen’s teeth, A+/A+ the stuff of legends—we’d heard of such things but never witnessed any. Most likely we’re in the C- to B+ range, and anything with a B in it was a win. Of course C-/C- was utterly precipitous, a clear warning of declining status that cried out ”Shape up!” or “come see me.” Why, you may ask, did we so profoundly anticipate and crave Stratton’s unsparing observations of our attempts to express written thoughts and ideas? The answer is provided by a second question: When had anyone ever paid such close attention, weighed so thoughtfully, cared so deeply, or expressed so articulately opinions about anything we’d ever done or said? What teacher’s words had ever stung so sharp, soothed so well, or elevated so magically our spirits, before or since? This guy took us seriously, treated us like capable adults and challenged us to think and write!

And not incidentally, when had anyone laughed so hard, or made us laugh so hard? When Stratton and head football coach former Harvard running back Tom Ossman got together evenings at one another’s apartments in Sturtevant to watch television and quite possibly drink whiskey, we could hear them laughing through the walls and down the halls. Laughter on a mythic scale, like echoes in Plato’s cave. Such Olympic mirth no doubt helped them cope with the pressures of living with, teaching, coaching, disciplining and mentoring this crew of frequently feckless youth with whom fate and Claude L. Allen Jr. had saddled them. And weren’t we lucky to have had them? At the end of the Allen Era after thirteen years at Hebron Dick moved to Nichols School in Buffalo for his apotheosis. Early on in his forty-three years there he became Chair of English for the first of two stints, was proclaimed a Master Teacher and awarded repeated NEH fellowships. In short, he became a campus legend, with honors upon honors, and high priest of campus theatre production. The guy you desperately needed to write your college recs. It’s said that he was renowned among college admissions officials for the depth and pertinence of his sharply observed recommendations buttressed with apt anecdotal support. He stopped directing plays long before he retired, but the school maintained a tradition the like of which I have not heard before or since. Dick would be the only audience for the final dress rehearsal of every play mounted at Nichols, and afterwards the com-

Coach Stratton with Tad Clark ‘65 at Tad’s induction into Hebron’s Athletic Hall of Fame in 2015.

pany would assemble and he’d give the actors detailed, lengthy notes on how to improve their performances, illuminating the world of the play and fusing connections for them that helped the students excel in their roles. This practice is unconventional to the point of heresy, having a critic come in to set things aright at the last moment, but the students and their faculty directors trusted Dick’s wisdom, and they could see how his notes transformed the actors’ performances, so the tradition continued to great acclaim well into his retirement.

To the enormous benefit of generations of young people, Dick discovered early on what he was good at. He refined to the level of art his talent for language, wit and his considerable will to ignite students’ interest and performance. . . Eccentric?, to be sure. Brilliant? Without doubt. Challenging? You bet. But worth it. Big Time. Allen Kennedy ‘65

“As a 16 year old it struck me that he and Tom Osmond lived and played hard. Neither were married at the time. Stratton always had a five o’clock shadow and spoke with a booming and commanding voice from deep in his barrel chest that was intimidating. He was an exacting task master. Somewhere I have some of my written things with his red pen corrections on them. I could never bring myself to throw them out as they were instructive and sometimes they even had a ‘good’ underlined twice in the margin. When he found out that I had gotten a 5 on the AP English test senior year, he said something to the effect that I had learned his instructions well on interpretation of English literature. It was a start. Like Claude Allen he was a larger than life personality; he was a man’s man. I am forever indebted to him for what he did to give me the writing skills that I have used everyday of my life. I am sad that I never saw him post-Hebron, but in the many boys he taught so well his legacy is rich indeed.” Clem Dwyer ‘66

“I often speak of RJS as ‘the best teacher I ever had!’ I was fortunate to have been in his class for 3 of my 4 years at Hebron. He taught me to think for myself, to read deeply, to write clearly and succinctly, to act and direct with authority and care...in fact, I am convinced that I would not have been able to discover and enjoy the work and fulfilling life I have without Dick’s loving mentorship. We stayed in touch until recently. He always wrote to me in his beautiful long-hand script on a yellow legal pad. I loved that! A true Luddite in the best sense. Knowing that he was still out there sharing his joy of learning and talking and writing and living brought me comfort and joy. I miss him already.” Nataniel Warren-White ‘68

“I had great affection for Dick. Not just for his ability to teach the literature that he loved, but for the richness and humor he mined from his own personal flaws and embraced with gusto. He lived his life as the embodiment of his hero Leo Tolstoy. I believe he died a happy and contented man. I am ineffably sad at his passing. I will miss his stories.” Mike Wright ‘65

A fund has been established in Dick’s memory. Should you wish to contribute to the Dick Stratton Memorial Fund, please call Pat Layman at 207-966-5236 or mail your check to: Hebron Academy, PO Box 309, Hebron, ME 04238, Attn: Stratton Memorial Fund.

The Mask First Line of Defense

George Dycio ’77 with his mask and gear at a recent alumni hockey game. Although he uses current protective gear in his league play, he still occasionally dons the vintage pads and protection of a ‘stand up’ goalie on special occasions.

The Bell-Lipman Archives recently acquired a unique piece of Hebron

Hockey history. George Dycio ’76 gave his protective facemask for the Homecoming ’19 display of “Tradition-Hebron’s hockey past” mounted by history teacher Steve Middleton. If it could tell the tales, what stories would it recount of hockey in the early 1970’s with Coach Nat Harris on the open hilltop rink? It first appears in a hockey picture in the 1972 yearbook and continues in the 1973 and 1974 yearbooks, worn by Hebron goalkeepers who remain unidentified. When George Dycio began to play for Coach Nat Harris as a freshman in 1974, the equipment manager gave him ‘the mask,’ goalie equipment which had been left by a former player. George wore the mask for all his Hebron years, sometimes sharing the goal-tending duties, sometimes playing all the periods and earning the Most Valuable Player Award in 1978.

George recounted how he came to Hebron as a ‘stand up’ goalkeeper, one who stood erect and balanced, sliding side to side to protect the edges of the goal and using his broad stick and blocker to deflect shots to either side. He had been taught the basic motions of goalkeeping at a time when a goalie’s tactics were to move forward and back to reduce angles or to move side to side to sweep away and deflect shots. And the players’ sticks of the day were wholly wood and without the composites and curves of today that allow them to easily lift and flick a puck with pin-point accuracy. Standing erect, leather pads mostly together, George protected his net for all his Hebron years at a time when the sprawling ‘butterfly’ moves of today’s keepers were not yet imagined.

The first fiberglass masks came into use in the 1960’s and were crude affairs molded to the contours of a goalie’s face and lacking much in the way of internal padding. Jacques Plante of the Montreal Canadiens wore the first, and Gerry Cheevers of the Boston Bruins gained notoriety for his white fiberglass mask decorated with lines of markered ‘stitches’ that his mask had prevented. These masks afforded some protection from pucks and sticks but were not originally intended as an active part of a goalie’s defensive arsenal, simply vital protection for the face. And they did little for the sides and back of the head or the throat area. Quickly the mask evolved, incorporating metal, Kevlar, internal padding, full coverage to the head and protection for the throat. Even the outward shape of the modern mask contributes to its use.

Hebron’s present goalies grew up in the sport with modern technology, and their masks become a reflection of attitudes and influences. Ben Hathaway ’20 notes that his mask is not only protection but style. “Kids want to become goalies today as much for the image of the equipment as anything. I like the style and looking good.” Ben’s mask carries a simple design of green and white with particular logos for the league and his training school. Jackson O’Brien ’22 sports a similar design but with a more tightly formed protective cage in front of his eyes. Compared to the small holes of George’s mask, these Kevlar and metal designs provide improved vision and more complete protection for the head. Both Hebron keepers learned the ‘butterfly’ style from their first experiences in the sport, and indeed, the modern mask complements their training to drop low to the ice, fronting shots with the chest and head as well as the stick and blocker. Ben comments that his training even includes drills that include playing the puck with the mask, consciously attempting deflections with the winged edges of the mask. “It is still a shock,” he says, “but design and internal padding makes playing the puck with the head possible.”

The hockey mask of the 1970’s remains a throwback, but as an archival item, it becomes a means to document the evolution of the sport.

Come Home to Hebron

JOIN US! October 10

42 • hebron • SPRING 2020 Visit hebronacademy.org/homecoming or call 207-966-5266 for more information Members of the class of 1969 celebrate their 50th reunion. L/R: David Rines, Tom Acker, Dave Cleveland, Jonathan Moll, Dan Lyman, Lee Geier, Joe Garcelon, Robert Pettit, Jim Brown, Wes Loker, Jim Sanborn, Dick Drukker. Fred Seufert, Bob Edmonstone, Eric Morse, Morton Furber, Sam Stafford, Bob Lowenthal, Mike Mishou, David Wildes , Dan Steinway, Jim Cram, Bob Waite

reunion - homecoming weekend 2020