He was, for students and even teachers, some strange blend of uncle and father. To me he spoke of so many of you, and what is amazing is that we all were special to him. You felt so lucky that Ferdie knew you, asked you about your life, wanted to visit you when he was in town. There was so much of him to go around. How did his heart have room for all of us? Most of all, he was the best husband, father, grandfather, brother and son there ever was. His life was family first, then school. The rest was noise. He loved with a fierce loyalty and unfathomable joy, and in his family he found a happiness that was an unending blessing. There are a lot of us today who looked to Ferdie and Joanna when we think of what the best marriage looks like. All of us should be grateful that fate brought us close to him. We were lucky. No matter your age or where you lived, with Ferdie you felt yourself pulled across the years and miles by some powerful force of love and passion, and he never let go. You were impelled, drawn close. And then after you had rubbed up against him, like the iron against the magnet, something changed in you: things aligned quietly; your needle steadied to the true north of love of family and service to others; you knew the way forward. Maybe that’s what he left all of us—an orientation, a heading that we will always follow. j More comments and photos are posted at www.taftschool.org/alumni/ferdie and on page 52 with the Class of ’66 Alumni Notes.
For years, Ferdie awarded the first prizes at Commencement: The Roberts Scholarship and Maurice Pollak Award.
In New York in the late ’60s. From left, classmates Tony Guernsey, Rick Ford, Whit Knapp, Jake Russell, Bob Adams, Peter Smith and Ferdie.