Another Snippet About TPR

In late April, I had a first appointment with a new doctor, and it turned out that he had lived for some time in a house that was once part of the Hill-Stead property and had met a number of people with first-hand experience of TPR.  The one anecdote he told comes from TPR's attorney, whom the good doctor got to know well. It seems TPR and her attorney were returning to Hill-Stead in her car when they came upon a couple of town officials who were looking at the sharp turn on Mountain Road near the Hill-Stead entrance.  When TPR stopped to find out what they were up to, they suggested there might be a way to make the turn safer but that it would require that TPR yield a small piece of property.  TPR turned to her attorney and asked "Do I have to do this?"  When he responded that she did not, she turned to the two officials and said simply "no."
So what does this anecdote tell us? I suppose it is encouraging to those inclined to think of TPR as overbearing and difficult to deal with.  Certainly it reinforces the notion that she was strong-willed and decisive, but we knew that already.   We also knew she was eccentric, which raises a number of questions for me.  First is the classic question about TPR and her era: did she somehow drive away three Provosts and two entire faculties and in so doing force her school to close?  Second is what does "eccentric" mean in the context of a strong-willed woman in the early twentieth century?
So what about this idea that TPR was overbearing, perhaps overly meddlesome, and the trials of the Founder's Era were entirely of her own creation?  Certainly there were those in her day who took that view.  Cal Magruder '46 reports that the perception among students in '44 was that the troubles came as result of disputes between TPR and Brooks Stabler, and the faculty and students collectively sided with Stabler.  Of course, like most Founder's Era alumni, Cal also reports he did not see much of TPR and that she was not a presence on campus.
By the way, the good doctor has since moved out of the house that was once part of Hill-Stead, but he now lives in Devonwood, which was of course once part of the school property, so in some ways he simply traded one former TPR estate for another.

Twilight Zone

Recently, I visited a class taught by new colleague Paul Duwan '85 and had a "Twilight Zone" experience.  This was one of Paul's younger classes (he also teaches economics to seniors), and that day he was introducing the Renaissance.  As I sat in class, I realized that when I first introduced the Renaissance to a class, Paul was one the students.  Paul is not the first of my students to become a colleague, but I believe this is the first time I have seen the roles reversed so completely

Paul Duwan '85 teaching A.P. Economics

The sense of deja vu continued a few days later when Chandra Narsipur visited the campus.  Chandra taught history at Avon for over twenty-five years, and one of his first students here was Paul Duwan. Indeed, Paul was quick to greet and visit with Chandra at lunch, and when Peter Evans joined us, Paul was having lunch with three of his four Avon history teachers; only Seth Mendell was missing.

Chandra Narsipur

Indeed, having Paul at lunch with Chandra and Peter provided a sense of continuity for the history department - a semblance of permanence, if you will.

Pete Seeger '36 - An Appreciation

If the world seems like a slightly colder, darker place today, it is because Pete Seeger '36 died yesterday at the age of 94.

Pete Seeger '36 in Brown Auditorium, 2008

Of course, Pete was a giant in folk music. He wrote, or had a hand in writing, such folk standards as Where Have All the Flowers Gone, If I Had A Hammer, Turn, Turn, Turn, and We Shall Overcome, among many, many others. Pete’s music always had a social conscience. In his early years, he sang the songs of the Labor Movement with the Almanac Singers and then The Weavers. He also consistently lent his voice (and his banjo) to the struggles for Civil Rights {We Shall Overcome}, Peace {Bring ‘Em Home} and Environmental Responsibility {Sailing Down My Golden River}. For many, his Vietnam-era songs such as “Waist Deep in the Big Muddy” are particularly poignant today.

Frankly, however, the category “Things To Admire In Pete Seeger’s Life” contains much more than musical brilliance and socially conscious songs. Throughout his life, Pete demonstrated extraordinary courage and commitment to justice. In the 50s, he stood up to the notorious House Committee on Un-American Activities, telling them  I am not going to answer any questions as to my associations, my philosophical or religious beliefs or my political beliefs, or how I voted in any election, or any of these private affairs. I think these are very improper questions for any American to be asked, especially under such compulsion as this. I would be very glad to tell you my life if you want to hear of it.  A Just Man living in an Unjust Society, Pete was ultimately convicted of Contempt of Congress, sentenced to a year in jail, and blacklisted for 17 years. In the 60s, Pete decided to launch a campaign to clean up the Hudson River. Using the sloop Clearwater as his platform, he has succeeded to a remarkable degree – mostly by calling attention to the problem and by inspiring a grass-roots movement in response.

Pete Seeger changed millions of lives with his music and his activism. He did it without compromising his values and without fear for his own reputation or safety; he did it with boundless optimism and the conviction that there is nothing the people cannot accomplish, and he did it by bringing people together, recognizing the value in each of us and in all of us, and by inspiring us with his commitment, his vision, and his song.

In Pete Seeger's life there is much much for us to admire, to celebrate, and to seek to emulate. The world is in fact a better, brighter place because of him.

"Men of Avon" Video

Earlier this fall, Bryan Zaros, our director of choral activities, put together this video to celebrate the history of "Men of Avon." If you have not yet seen it, do take a look.  Thanks to Bryan, his choral groups, Archivist Carol Ketcham, and everyone else who had a hand in this video.

Don Pierpont Saved My Life

On the occasion of the sixty-fifth anniversary of the school's re-opening and the forty-fifth anniversary of Don Pierpont's death, Pierpont-era alumni gathered on campus this weekend to remember their Provost at a dinner and fireside chat on Friday evening and a Chapel service on Saturday morning. At both events, participants stood up and spoke about their particular memories of "Pierps."

The Chapel Ready for the Don Pierpont Service

There were, frankly, tears shed in both the Commons Room (Friday evening) and the Chapel as alumnus after alumnus recounted the profoundly positive impact that Don Pierpont had on their lives. Many stories followed the same outline: confronted with a vulnerable, unsuccessful, perhaps misbehaving boy or young man, Pierpont somehow saw potential no one else could recognize, provided a second (or more) chance and then helped the young lad find - and believe in - his best self. Pierpont's legendary compassion was on full display, perhaps best in the story of a meeting between Pierpont, a student, and Dean Kincaid. The dean pointed out that the student was failing most of his classes, had been drinking in the dorm, and had recently stolen Pierpont's car! Pierps's response? "Don't confuse me with facts"! That student stayed at Avon, graduated, and is grateful to Don Pierpont for the happy life he has enjoyed since then.
Of course, as with any gathering at which Don Pierpont is remembered, there were repeated references to Ho Jo's!

Who Was Mrs. Riddle?

Anyone who seeks to understand - let alone write about - the history of the school has to wrestle with the question of who Mrs. Riddle really was. We know the basics, of course: daughter of Alfred A. Pope, graduate of Miss Porter's, first registered female architect in Connecticut, Lusitania survivor, and founder of Avon Old Farms. We know that she had a reputation for eccentricity writ large. We know that she was, to put it mildly, strong-willed. We also know that these attributes have been caricatured in a series of popular myths/exaggerations about Mrs. Riddle. (She did not, for example, choose Percy Kammerer as Provost simply by finding his name in a telephone directory, and she did not have a roof torn down simply because it did not sag correctly.) The questions we confront are: how eccentric and strong-willed was she, and to what extent was she to blame for the departures of three Provosts and two entire faculties during the Founder's Era?

Theodate Pope Riddle

Certainly, there was a widespread perception at the time that TPR could be difficult to work with. Cal Magruder '46, for example, recalls that most of the faculty and most of the students sided with Provost Stabler rather than TPR in the conflict that would lead to his departure and the school closing. Time magazine chose to highlight the founder's eccentricities (and her progressive views on education) in their March, 1944 article on the closing. They no doubt enjoyed using the word "warped" to describe the sag in Avon's roofs and "Warped to Order" as a sub-heading for that section of the article. However, Time also chose to perpetuate the phone directory myth and suggested that Francis Froelicher and Percy Kammerer had "quit" after "rows," presumably with TPR. The reality is that neither of them had "quit" and that both had been guilty of behavior unbecoming of a provost and potentially damaging to the school.
Eddy Custer '43 was an exception to Cal Magruder's rule. He wrote his brother Tom ('36) that he has "always thought Mrs. Riddle was wonderful and Stabler horrible," but went on to quote his mother, the history teacher John S. Custer's wife, as referring to TPR as "a spoiled and ruthless old woman"! "Mother said Mrs. Riddle had imposed conditions under which Mr. Stabler could not possibly stay, but she didn't say what the conditions were." Frankly, it is hard to imagine. Provost Stabler had already instituted religious services at school - appointing himself "Rector" - and changed the name of the school.  It is not as thought TPR never let him take the initiative. Would that Eddy (Dad) or my grandparents were still around to shed some light on the subject.
As I get closer to being "finished" with my chapter on the Founder's Era (long-time readers will know that I have already both a) claimed to have completed such a draft and b) observe that "finished" is not a word one can ever truly apply to history), I am confronted with the necessity to address these questions. At the moment, I am inclined to conclude that a healthy measure of the anti-TPR sentiment of the day stemmed more from the biases of the day than from her own, admittedly quite real, idiosyncrasies. Once I have organized my thinking and taken a stab at the conclusion of this chapter, I'll write another post on this issue. In the meantime, do share any thoughts or understanding you may have!

Letters From India

My father, Eddy Custer '43, joined the American Field Service immediately after graduation and spent a year serving in India as an ambulance driver and company clerk. Throughout his travels, he wrote lengthy letters to his parents and to his older brother Tom (AOF '36). Tom's daughter Barbara recently came across a cache of these letters and sent them to my brother. In many ways, these letters are typical of any young man off to war - filled with yearning for home, affection for loved ones, stories of the wonders and the tedium of travel and then service, and constant entreaties to write letters.

This embroidered seal accompanied the letters

For some reason, it had not occurred to me until I read these letters that the "home" for which Dad was pining as he started his journey would be gone by the time he returned. In the fall of '43, there was no inkling that Avon would not go on forever, and he mentions the excellence of the fare in the Refectory and Chef Candles' magnificent Thanksgiving feast among the many things he missed.
By the time Dad returned from India, the school would be closed, and his parents would no longer live in the Diogenes apartment where he grew up. He learned of the school's fate in a March, 1944 TIME Magazine article. In May, he wrote "I still can't believe Avon is closing. It seems like a fantastic nightmare." Later in the month: "I disagree with you that there are other places in this world equally nice. Any school after Avon will seem grim to me..."