George Dunnebacke died in extraordinary peace on July 21, 2020, at the Jack Byrne Center hospice in Lebanon, New Hampshire, after a sudden, precipitous decline in health, which confounded him and his doctors. George had recently taken to saying he would die for a diagnosis, and so, it seems, he did. After eight years of suffering from a mysterious and never-diagnosed inflammatory disease and a sudden “insidious decline” from lymphoma, with just a few small tumors apparent, his pathology was, indeed, mysterious.
Those who knew George would not be surprised that he delighted in the designation “insidious decline,” and promptly stole it as a title of one of his famous one-page (usually one-line) plays, written under the pen name G. Z’bach. George never failed to mention these titles to his doctors (and anyone else who would listen) including one, set in a retirement home for physicians, called Bedside Manor.
George’s flair for irreverent humor was epitomized in his recent penning of a series of epitaphs for his own gravestone. These include “I Rest My Case”, “Wish You Were Here” and “Did Not Play Well With Others”, and were recently translated into Irish by his friends from the Brattleboro Irish class. He considered fluency in the language an essential part of his, ultimately unfulfilled, plan to move to (and die in) Ireland.
For all his irreverence, George was equally inclined to sudden profundity, as when recently, while joking with family about a question, he suddenly grew sober, and pronounced gravely, “Answers come and go, but questions are forever.” At times, he could listen with the most exquisite, tender attention, his sensitivity almost too much for him to bear.
George spent a lifetime traveling to the beat of his own drum, and his wit and constant humor were often the counterbalance to a rigid, non-conformist streak, which could frustrate and confound his loved ones. It occurred one day to George’s daughters that he was likely on the autism spectrum, a theory with which George himself concurred.
Born January 28, 1943, in Mason, Michigan, to Robert Dunnebacke and Mabel Lucile Dunnebacke (née Barnaby), the family moved around the American West, to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and eventually, to the San Francisco Bay Area, where his father worked as a printer. Graduating high school in San Jose, George attended college at U.C. Berkeley in the heyday of 1960’s counter-culture, where he studied science, linguistics, history, and music. Although he excelled at every subject, he would regularly lose interest in school, eventually leaving college before earning his degree.
Disinterested in maintaining a job, George nevertheless briefly fashioned himself a lucrative career in computer programming, with no previous training, before becoming, once again, overcome by the misery of conventional life. He did, however, have a number of devoted piano students over the years, who remember him as a passionate and rigorous teacher who inspired a unique appreciation for music.
George was married twice, first to Carol Hughes, with whom he had a daughter, and two step-sons, and later, to Josephine Crichton, with whom he also had a daughter. Neither marriage lasted long but both ex-wives remained his friends for life.
A life-long ascetic, George enjoyed a hard bedroll for sleeping, and for many years, a carefully organized desk, fashioned out of an ironing board. In later years, a salvaged drafting table became his work space, where he engaged in a meticulous habit of logging information - from his many hours of daily piano practice to the elevations of the Himalayan mountain range, as well as a litany of daily impressions - all written on small yellow post-it notes. The enduring centerpiece to George’s existence was the piano, and a 1940’s Model M Steinway ruled his roost until the end.
Long-respected for his deep appreciation for, and understanding of, music - or more precisely, listening - George was moved to tears by the opus of J.S. Bach, late Beethoven, and his beloved Komitas. A self-described music snob, George barely tolerated Chopin and most of the rest of the repertoire on his local classical music radio station. And his constantly evolving list of contenders for the top 10 best songs of all time included Iris DeMent, Gram Parsons and the Rolling Stones. George spent decades studying the music of G. I. Gurdjieff and Thomas de Hartmann, as part of his affiliation with the Gurdjieff Foundation.
George’s life-long relationship with the Gurdjieff Foundation bred many long-standing friendships. In later years, he found companionship with his close friends, Sean and Kimberly McElman, in his adopted home of Walpole, New Hampshire.
George is preceded in death by his beloved cat Loretta, and survived by his next beloved cat, Pangur Bán - named for the poem by a 9th century Irish monk about his cat. He is also survived by his two siblings, the original Dunnebacke sisters, Mary Jean St. Claire and Laura Pesonen, as well as by his two daughters, also Dunnebacke sisters, Elizabeth and Anna, as well as his nieces, nephews, and grandchildren.
George will be greatly missed.
His ashes have traveled to Ireland to be laid to rest, and his piano is on its way to New Orleans. Please feel free to leave a remembrance here.
