He had many different names depending on how you knew him; Grampy, Gramps, Dad, Gil, Gilby, Mr. Stanley, but any one of them he would respond to with a big grin. Dad could be described as a renaissance man, but he would laugh at such a dignified description of how he saw himself. He might say he was an average guy with some strange interests. We all know this was far from the truth. Dad's life was anything but ordinary, it was filled with family, music, books, history, students, art, sports, and most especially his beloved wife of 23 years, Sharon. Music was a constant throughout his youth, college, and adult years always connecting him to lifelong friends and family. When you got into dad's car, bluegrass, folk or other music would be blaring through the speakers. Dad spent his retirement years channeling his creativity. A passion for painting dominated his daily routine, which allowed him to integrate his love of history, specifically his family history, into his art.
Dad loved his six granddaughters. Rooting from the sidelines of a game, cheering and proud of any milestone and accomplishment, he wanted all the details as he eagerly inquired, and make no mistake, remembered them all.
Dad was a proud father who supported and guided his children to be curious about the world, to engage with others who offered different perspectives, and to be confident in his unconditional love and deep loyalty to his family.
A life long educator, Dad taught at The Cardigan Mountain School, Kent School, St. George's and St. Mark's. St. Mark's was his greatest love where he spent 32 years teaching, coaching, advising and leading the History Department. He was deeply proud of his own education at Kent, Middlebury College and Dartmouth College where he earned his masters degree. He remained a dedicated Alum and close to many of his school pals attending reunions, traveling with classmates and staying in touch over email. A passionate political junkie, he firmly espoused the democratic ideals of “all men are created equal” and contributed to, and supported, efforts to end racism, protect the vulnerable, and restore respect and dignity to the United States in the eyes of the world.
Dad had an intellectual curiosity that drove him to want to understand the world and how others thought. He was an information hound who would leave no stone unturned to get to the bottom of any topic, event, or situation that captured his mind. His inquisitive intellect led him to read endless articles from varying perspectives, books, papers, and mostly he loved to pepper his many, many friends from all parts of his life who he communicated with regularly until he had exhausted his detailed inquiry, and maybe them too.
Dad was was passionate and devoted to his craft of teaching young minds. His students at St. Mark's no doubt can recount endless stories, often highlighted by some sort of crazy antic that went on in the classroom. He rarely forgot a student's name, and if he did, he would rush to open one of the 30 plus yearbooks he had cataloged by year to figure it out. Dad loved teaching, unconventional at best, he got a kick out of each and every student that made their way up to the top floor of the main building and entered the history den. The students dubbed Dad and his colleagues in the History Department "the crazy uncles in the attic," which perfectly describe the camaraderie and special connection they shared during and after Dad's time at St. Mark's.
Dad was our eccentric, funny, loyal, devoted, fun loving, goofy, unpredictable, hooting and hollering, big grin, twinkle in the eye, chocolate loving, hot dog and a beer kind of guy. As Dad would say, this was a "big time" kind of life. How blessed we all were to be a part of his world.
