This is a poem that was read at my grandfather's funeral and both of my parents funerals. My Mom taught typing at Harley while Steve was headmaster there and I substituted for her there when she took a trip with my Dad. I graduated from Harley in '58 and my Mom graduated from Harley in '33. Our family loved sailing, and my Mom raced her sailboat on Lake Ontario. When someone who enjoys sailing passes away, this poem always reminds me of the person. Barb (Poole) von Schilcher

              Sometime at Eve 

Sometime at Eve when the tide is low

I shall slip my moorings and sail away

With no response to a friendly hail

In the silent hush of the twilight pale

When the night stoops down to embrace the day

And the voices call in the water's flow

Sometime at Eve When the water is low

I shall slip my moorings and sail away.

Through purple shadows

That darkly trail o'er the ebbing tide

And the Unknown Sea,

And a ripple of waters' to tell the tale

Of a lonely voyager sailing away

To mystic isles

Where at anchor lay

The craft of those who had sailed before

O'er the Unknown Sea

To the Unknown Shore

A few who watched me sail away

Will miss my craft from the busy bay

Some friendly barques were anchored near

Some loving souls my heart held dear

In silent sorrow will drop a tear

But I shall have peacefully furled my sail

In mooring sheltered from the storm and gale

And greeted friends who had sailed before

O'er the Unknown Sea

To the Unknown Shore

- by Elizabeth Clark Hardy

An email thread on the 19th between family members:

1)Remembering Dad today. His laugh, his dance steps, his love of life, his love of each of us, his passion for teaching and his passion for kids thriving.
Continuing to sprinkle some daisies today by any bits of kindness that show themselves to me today. As simple as a smile with a friend or stranger.
Thank- you Dad.
Love to you all, Ibi

2) Dad 's energy shining down on us all
love to everyone , Victoria  (photo)

3) energy flowing to England ,thoughts with all,  Love/Hugs Kate (on a trip to England and France)

4)Thank you for starting this daisy chain of love.
 Remembering Dad,   Mary and Christian

5)Thinking of all of you on this day. Hugs and blessings.
Love, Rebecca

6)Catching up with this "daisy chain of love" as Mary put it so well. As for the Day of Remembrance itself, for me, and no doubt for a lot of you as well, every day is a day of remembrance. He's always with us.  And as for dates, the ones I like best to remember are his birthday... the day we first met...,  the day we were married,... the day I saw the ad (for that matter!),…. the day we all celebrated his life with that wonderful schooner ride out into the bay on a spanking wind, --things he would have preferred to remember too.

7) So true Grace, I see this day as one of many, on this one he gave me an experience of calm and clarity, so fully engaged in his life, how he would pass and how it was all good. The comng day and the going day and all that lies between.

I was a counselor at AIC in 1961 (Dick Thompson n.b., you were there that  year), and while the experience shaped me profoundly, setting me on a course that led to progressive education (Nat French's North Shore Country Day), thence Quaker education, thence alternative Quaker schools and Quakerism itself, I want to add a second-hand recollection, from Bob Smith, who was Head of School at Sidwell Friends for several years while I was there. Like Steve, Bob served in the army during WWII, and with Steve at the Battle of the Bulge. Not a experience either of them talked about much. Bob only said that Steve, as his  platoon leader, was an island (there's the image) of calm and reassurance in the midst of terrifying chaos. I can believe it (see an extraordinary made-for-TV series called Band of Brothers to see more -- one episode takes place there), and I wonder about the impact of that experience on Steve. It must have strengthened him, but was there more? Others may have some answer for that...