2002 Franklin/Hampshire Holiday Reception
Given on December 19, 2002

Reminiscences in honor of Frank L. Boyden's Centenary
by Robert L. Merriam '43

I will try to get you out of here in time for some shrimp, but Mr. Boyden would be pleased if I kept you away from the liquor. He promised his mother never to touch the stuff, but one morning at the Brick Church Charlie Titsworth decided to serve real wine rather than the usual grape juice. When Mr. Boyden swallowed the little communion glass of wine, he turned to Mrs. Boyden and in a rather loud voice (he was getting deaf at the time) said, "Helen, I think the grape juice has gone bad."

For almost fifty years I had many opportunities to know Mr. Boyden. It all began when my brother Juni entered Deerfield in 1930 followed by my brother Dick in 1933. As some of you recall, movies were shown in the Barn, and younger brothers and children in town were invited to attend. We sat on the floor about five feet from the screen, so as the movie came on, we lay on our backs and looked up. Mr. Boyden sat on the bench near the door, perched higher than the audience. Sitting above the students gave him a control that was most important. It was not obvious but it was real, and he used that same technique throughout his career. His boys always sat on the floor.

The mythological man is somewhat different than the real man. For years people have felt he made every decision. There is no question that he set the standard and the policy, but he did not make every decision. He surrounded himself with a faculty whom he trusted and on whom he relied. In the early days it was men like Red Sullivan, Emmett Cook, Babe Baldwin, Edgar Nichols, Sheldon Howe and, of course, Mrs. Boyden. In the forties, they were joined by others such as John Suitor, Russ Miller, Frank Conklin, Larry Bohrer, Art Ruggles, Bart Boyden, Art Williams, Al Schell and others. These men devoted their careers to Deerfield. They were loyal and capable, and Mr. Boyden was loyal to them. The same is true today as many men and women on the faculty and the staff are the great strength of this school. At the same time he encouraged his faculty to leave to take over other schools: men such as Claude Allen, Henry Poor, Prent Horne, Jack Pidgeon and others.

He inspired loyalty with his Board of Trustees. Men like Mr. Maynard and Mr. Field stayed with him for years. He had the support of school men like Lewis Perry of Exeter, Claude Fuess of Andover, Van Santvoord of Hotchkiss, Peabody of Groton, St. John of Choate, and Father Sill of Kent. They knew Mr. Boyden understood boys, and they sent students to Deerfield whom they could not keep at their own schools. Some of those boys have been Deerfield's most loyal benefactors. One of them was Elliott Donnelley '23 who entered Deerfield when he was about 21. Because he had his driving license, Mr. Boyden made him the school chauffeur, driving the basketball team. It was on one of those trips that a player spit out his wad of tobacco against the closed window. Before the next away trip Mr. Boyden got his nickname when he said, "No quids on this trip."

Trustee meetings in the thirties, forties and fifties were held on a week day morning. They were short and sweet and were followed by a luncheon in the Ephraim Williams House. Mr. Boyden knew that one of the trustees liked oyster stew, so Mrs. Gexlar was asked to prepare the stew. The Dining Room staff thought they could prepare as good a stew, and some feeling developed. It was finally settled when the Dining Room ordered the oysters, and Mrs. Gexlar put it all together. At any rate the luncheon was a great success, so after lunch Mr. Boyden went to the participants and told them the trustees were pleased, and he wanted to thank them for their cooperation. This was standard technique. He made a regular point of meeting the carpenters, painters, electricians, and the cleaning ladies to tell them what fine work they did.

In many ways he was a practical men, using time-tested methods to achieve his ends. He always gave credit to Tom Ashley for the impetus to create a great school, and in some ways Mr. Boyden devoted his life to carrying on Tom's dreams. On the other hand there is a story that after his first year at Deerfield he considered going to law school. In trying to make up his mind he opened the Bible and put his finger on a passage that said, "stay and build."

The real man was a hard worker: humble and strong, competitive and forgiving, enthusiastic and concerned, serious and humorous. He had strong beliefs, but he understood the difference between morality and ethics. He admired Robert E. Lee for his standards and his behavior after the war. Because Lee had no rule book at Washington and Lee, Deerfield had no rule book. Both men believed every student should be a gentleman and all judgments should be made based on that criterion. To those of us who attended Deerfield that criterion should be familiar.

He had a gift for talking with people. He kept his horses to give him the opportunity in the early days to travel the country roads, to stop, and talk with the farmers and others about sending their children to school. He said, "I like a horse that will stand, so I can visit. You know most people like animals, and I could attract quite a crowd with a good horse." When an important person was on the campus, he would take them for a buggy ride either through the north meadows or in the fall around the lower level to watch the teams practicing. When he broke his ankle he kept the cast on a little longer than necessary, for it brought him some sympathy on his New York fund raising trips.

Frank Boyden above all was a schoolmaster, learned in part from his parents, in part from Amherst Professor Garman, and in part from William Ellery Channing who said that "education is not just a stimulus for learning. Though talent can be worshipped, if it is divorced from rectitude, it will prove more demon than benefit." Mr. Boyden believed in learning but much more he believed in the importance of character, humility and responsibility. I am not sure he read Plato, but like him, he believed the character established in youth determined the man in his adulthood. Every day he worked to create an atmosphere in which the individual respected others and accepted his own responsibility.

When parents visited Deerfield to discuss their son's less than perfect scholastic record, Mr. Boyden would say that everyone has some talent. There are some who are good with their hands and can repair things, some are artistic, some are athletic. Some have social skills and are good with people. "Johnny has some of these skills, but scholarship is not one of them. He will be successful in life but perhaps not as a scholar."

In the thirties and forties, college admission was very different than today, and if Mr. Boyden told the admissions director to accept a boy, he was most often accepted. That was a good thing, but sometimes the boy whom he had recommended enjoyed college activities other than studying. If Mr. Boyden learned of this, he often called the boy to Deerfield or went to visit him. "I have to depend upon you," he would say, "for there are others who would like to come here and I need to know that the Admissions Officer will accept my recommendations."

The year Mary and I were married, McAllister Dormitory had just been completed, and we moved into the faculty quarters. Mr. Boyden visited us shortly after we had moved in, mostly to ascertain that our apartment looked okay for the donors to visit. That same sort of inspection disconcerted some new faculty wives when they first arrived at Deerfield. We were given a clothes dryer as Mr. Boyden did not care to see the laundry hanging outside on a line. The boys were to leave the Old Dorm, but they were kept there until after McAllister was dedicated, so the building would look absolutely perfect. Once the donors had visited, the boys moved in. That same sort of delay occurred when the Memorial Building was completed, and evening meetings were held in the Old Dorm until after the mud season.

Sundays were an important part of the Deerfield training. A meeting was held immediately after the noon meal. Often Beaver Smith was asked to tell a story. Beaver Smith was one of those old time teachers. He was also a great gardener and one evening was asked to speak to the Deerfield Garden Club at 8:00pm. At 8:00pm there was no one at the meeting, but Mr. Smith who had been a train conductor was a great believer in accurate time, and that an appointment was important. He began his lecture right on the dot of 8:00. I was thinking of starting this meeting at 5:30 even though some of you were not here. Anyway back to Mr. Smith and his story -- usually the same one year after year about the drunk on the train. A drunk on the train asked the conductor how many days were between Christmas and New Year's Day. "Six" replied the conductor. "How many between New Year's and Christmas. "The same," replied the conductor. "Nope 359." Then with Mr. Boyden's urging, we would all clap and cheer and Mr. Smith would be pleased.

Sunday afternoons a tea was held in the Old Dorm and faculty and students were assigned to come. Freshmen were to open the door and greet visitors, sophomores to pass the tea and cookies, and juniors and seniors to talk with the guests. It was good training to know how to hold a conversation with someone you did not know. In the evening the Sings were held in the Old Dorm. Mr. Boyden sat next to the piano, announced the next hymn and then would emphasize with a gesture to come in strong on the first note. Mr. Boyden used his hands and arms to get his point across. The clap of his hands to start a meeting; the charge across the basketball floor with arms spread eagle high when he was not pleased with the student body's reaction to questionable referee's decision. When the service was over, the front row would rise as a group and file past the speaker shaking hands and thanking him or her for the thoughtful talk. I will question the honesty of anyone who does the same tonight.

Whenever there was a speaker, students were assigned to thank him or her. Sometimes the speakers were invited to Deerfield year after year, and some gained a reputation for having lost it: men like the one who talked about the characteristics of brass, or the one who whistled like the birds. Eventually only new boys were required to attend, but Mr. Boyden continued to have them come. "When we couldn't pay them a fee," he would say, "they would help us out. I can't let them down now."

Throughout the school year, he would visit the dormitories during evening study hall. He always looked at the desk to be sure there was only one book open and all others neatly stacked away. "Concentrate on what you are studying. Do not have other distractions. Sit in a chair at your desk; you can't concentrate lying on your bed." He always commented on the pictures on the wall, and no one ever had anything out of line.

He urged the students to be friendly and to speak and care for visitors on the campus. Dave Bradley told me that at an evening meeting Mr. Boyden reiterated his hopes that all would be helpful and friendly. He went on to say, "I passed two boys today, neither spoke to me. One must have been studying geology and never looked up. The other, astronomy, and never looked down. I was glad to see them academically concerned but to be successful one must also be aware of others."

He would sit on the porch of the Ephraim Williams house and intercept anyone walking along Albany Road. One day he showed some ladies the John Williams House. After the tour, one of the ladies asked if he ever saw the headmaster. "Most every day", he replied. She then gave him a dollar, thanked him for the tour and told him to tell the headmaster to keep up the good work.

Once when he was visiting in Maine with Claude Allen who was great big man, they walked out on a dock. One of the men working on his boat turned to the other and said, "That's the famous Headmaster of Deerfield Academy." "Really?" said the other. "Who is the little squirt with him"?

He told other stories as well. Many were repeated again and again, so the faculty would groan when he began the Mel Ott story or the pile of hay or the city man asking directions in Vermont. I like the one about the southern lady who attended a lecture about the Medes and the Persians in one of their wars. After the lecture the lady cornered the speaker to tell him how much she enjoyed his remarks. "You know," she said, "My Mother was Meade."

When confronted by those complaining about the present generation, he would tell them Confucius said the same thing in his time.

He loved to write letters, answering all the third class mail, thanking the sender for the flyer and inviting them to Deerfield and signing them, "Cordially yours". During one of the school campaigns, our five-year old son Rob, sent Mr. Boyden some Monopoly money and had a wonderful letter back.

I drove him South during the spring vacation. These were primarily fund-raising trips, and he wandered through the Breakers, locating anyone who would listen to his story of Deerfield. We would drive to Hobe Sound and other places calling on possible donors. "I never make an appointment," he said "for if we just stop by, they can't put us off."

On one of his visits in Palm Beach, he said he was glad to have the Cadillac, for if the butler opened the door to our knock, he would think we were someone important and announce us. Mary and I took him the year we were married. We picked up Dr. Fuess of Andover who was also at the Breakers. He and Mary sat in the back seat and stayed there when we went in to call. "Don't want to share a gift with Andover", he said. On that trip Mary in the back seat was reading a particularly emotional story. We noticed that she was sobbing, and so we pulled over and Mr. Boyden got in the back seat. "You and Bobby have a little upset?" he asked. "You better go up front."

One evening Mr. Boyden said he was going to his room, and so we joined Dr. Fuess in the bar. A short time later Mr. Boyden arrived and asked if they served ginger ale in these places. Curiosity made him come to a place he did not approve of.

On one of those trips we stayed with Charlie Merrill in Palm Beach. As we were leaving the dinner table, Mr. Merrill said, "Bill, I'll give you $100,000.00 for that hockey rink, but don't ask me for another damn thing. "Oh, that's wonderful, Charlie, but I have never asked you for anything." "No," said Mr. Merrill, " But you are the damnedest beggar, I have ever known."

On the opening day of school new boy and old boy meetings were kept separate so that training for new boys could begin. At that meeting when the boy's name was called, he was expected to rise and say "Here." After dinner I would gather the first ten boys alphabetically, and we would meet with Mr. Boyden who would explain what was to happen. He urged each to stand straight and answer loudly and firmly. "If you start things off right," he said, "then everyone will follow your example." And so we would practice two or three times.

He was attentive to every detail. Before the Choate game, the student body would practice marching. On Friday evening he always told the freshmen they needed a little more practice and so they were marched around the gymnasium for an hour. On Saturday we were all given instructions to carry our coats on our right arm.

In the early days on school trips students were assigned bus seats, for he felt some boys should know others whom they did not. Corridor and room placements were never settled until the last minute. Good boys were assigned to the end of the corridor, others close to the corridor master.

During the war, most students went directly into the service. In 1943 the V12 program was in place to train officers for the Navy. The night before the interview in Boston, we reported to the Headmaster's Office. Mr. Boyden sat at his desk signing letters. A faculty member called our name, and we stepped to the desk. We were expected to stand there rather than sit in the chair. If we did not, back to the hall. When the name was called again, we reported to the desk and stood. Mr. Boyden would stand and shake hands. If the hand shake was not firm, back to the hall. Again we reported, stood, shook hands firmly and were told to be seated. As soon as we sat he pushed a pencil on to the floor, and we were to react quickly. The next day in Boston, the interviewing officer carried out the exact same procedure.

Mr. Boyden's eating habits were different. He would not let Mrs. Boyden go into a restaurant until he had checked it. If he found himself some place he hadn't checked he would have root beer and peanut butter crackers wrapped in cellophane. During the summer when Mrs. Boyden was in Sunapee, I lived in the Ephraim Williams House as a chaperone for Mr. Boyden and his secretary. My other job was to cook breakfast. Each morning we had the same thing: an egg cooked golf ball hard so he wouldn't have to chase it on the plate.

Many afternoons he walked through the locker rooms to make sure that towels were not hanging outside the locker. From there he would go to the store and have his root beer and sit at one of the tables, where there was always a vase with one flower. "Makes them keep their feet off the table." he said.

Mr. and Mrs. Boyden were perfect foils for each other. She called him "the little man", and he said she had the last word. One time when I was serving breakfast to them and a distinguished visitor the conversation turned to Albert Schweitzer. "Who is he," asked Mr. Boyden. Mrs. Boyden immediately responded "Ask him who Jesus Christ is."

I used to give out grades with him at the end of each marking period. We sat on the couch in his office. It was his opportunity to see each boy and get a sense of that boy. He always was seeking to know the spirit of the school. If there was a good Sing, he felt the school was in good shape. He made a point of being seen each day. I have known him to come back from New York, walk through the dinning room and leave for Boston. Jim Smith tells of his leaving President Kennedy at the dedication of the Amherst Library so that he could attend the Andover football game.

At a fund raising hockey game with St. Marks, played in Madison Square Garden, we were behind 3 to I at the end of the second period. Mr. Boyden came to the locker room and told the boys to keep their heads up when they went back on to the ice, and he stood at the door to the ice to make sure they did. We won 4 to 3.

Many weekends I drove him to Sunapee. He often slept a good part of the trip, but he often discussed the funds that were coming in. "I think we'll be in good shape with Charlie Merrill's gifts, the Brandegee gift and the annual fund," he would say.

Toward the end of his career, the trustees began to be concerned with the annual deficits and that there was no business manager. He did not wish to give up his authority over how the money was spent. "A business manager," he would say "will insist that certain things not be done, such as the flowers in the store, and I won't give up those things up". So to cover himself he named himself Business Manager and appointed me as his liaison to make decisions. I had many interesting discussions with wives who wanted their living rooms painted, but it enabled Mr. Boyden not to have to tell them "no" or to reverse my decision.

From time to time he called on the wives to do something besides the things they were expected to do, such as pour at teas and receptions and to have feeds for the boys in the corridor. Just before Spring Day someone noticed there were no curtains in the ladies Room in Barton, and so Mary received a call to make curtains by the next day. Ruth Bohrer was asked to go to his closet and get his black suit. She did and found there was nothing but black suits.

There are many stories of the perception he showed in dealing with his students. Many tell of being called to his desk as they walked through his office. In some cases it made all the difference in a boy's experience. An artist told me recently that one of his first paintings, he gave to Mr. Boyden who took it and hung it in his office. "Though he knew nothing about art, it made all the difference to my career" the artist said.

The switchboard was plugged into his bedside telephone every evening at 11:00. If any boy was not accounted for, he would remain up until he was found. Those provided some interesting times; going to get a boy who had borrowed someone's car and was discovered in Northampton; finding a boy who had slept through the Greenfield stop and ended up in the railroad yards in Troy. I love the story of one student who had gone to Greenfield one evening and was late returning. He found Mr. Boyden in his room waiting for him. "Mrs. Boyden has been very worried about you," he said. "Tomorrow morning I want you to go to her greenhouse. She works there at 5:00 am. You tell her you're all right, and she will be very relieved."

One of his tricks in dealing with discipline was to make the boy wait for his meeting with the Headmaster. It gave them a little time to think things over, and then he would say, "I hope I can depend on you from now on." Most often the boy, relieved after his long wait, could be depended on.

So, of course, the experience of working with him was wonderful. There were exasperating moments, but there is no question that he was a remarkable person with the single purpose of building a great school where students were taught humility, responsibility and ethics. He built a Deerfield where there was a great deal of learning with some scholarship as well.