12 minute read
IN MEMORIAM
Tim Young, Class of 1961, as a student at Bement
You’ve Got a Friend
In Memory of Timothy C. Young ’61, PF
Over the course of more than 40 years, I came to know Tim Young as a colleague, as my children’s math teacher, and as the husband of Amy Gordon P’99 ’03, PF, who has been my closest friend since we met at summer camp in Maine 55 years ago.
Left: Mr. Young and his advisory group posed for a picture after spending the day hiking. Middle: Mr. Young gathered with fellow faculty and staff outside the Polk Building during the 1990s. Right: Mr. Young enjoyed hiking and camping with Bement students during the 1970s.
I’LL REMEMBER SEEING TIM SAUNTERING ACROSS CAMPUS, dressed in khakis, tan hiking boots, and a Shetland wool sweater with a camera over his shoulder. Something about the sight of Tim with his timeless New England clothing and his steady, calm demeanor always felt grounding to me. I’ll remember his unwavering thoughtfulness and gentlemanly good manners. Although Tim was shy, he would never pass you on campus without a friendly greeting. Throughout the years, Tim set a standard of courtesy for all of us, and that made a difference.
I remember the unobtrusive way he entered a classroom, observed, took his photos, and moved on. When Tim was in our classrooms, teachers went on teaching and children went on learning, hardly noticing that he was there, and that’s the way Tim wanted it. It allowed him to capture the natural moments of a school day at Bement. And through his insightful eyes and creative process, those natural moments became works of art that captured the soul of the school he loved so much.
I remember Tim’s math correction sheets, a tool he used to teach his students to be organized and accountable about their schoolwork. Every three weeks or so, he’d hand out a list to his students of any corrections in past assignments that had not yet been turned in. I have to admit that when my children were in Tim’s class, the night before corrections were due was never a peaceful one in our household. My children would spend the evening rooting through the crumpled papers in their backpacks, hoping against hope to find all the missing corrections. They often stayed up late begrudgingly redoing the assignments they had lost.
As middle schoolers, they didn’t appreciate the study habits Tim was trying to teach them. However, by the time my children were in high school they had become, on the whole, well organized and responsible students. So thank you, Tim, for teaching my children, and for your clear, consistent expectations.
Of course I will remember Tim’s photos, slideshows, and videos. When Spring Fling used to be held on Saturdays, the Barn would become the theater for viewing Tim’s slideshow. Parents, children, and teachers would come into the darkened room, find a seat, and watch. For many, including me, this was the highlight of the day. We laughed and cried as the magic of the school year unfolded before us through Tim’s iconic photographs. And the beauty and meaning in the photos were enhanced by the music Tim had selected. Whenever I hear “What a Wonderful World” or “You’ve Got a Friend,” I think of Tim. I always will.
Finally, I’ll remember how Tim and Amy found each other at Bement and created a life together that enriched them both. I loved the way they supported each other’s creative talents and the deep companionship they found when walking in the woods, canoeing, and kayaking on the Connecticut River and exploring the world through travel. I’ll also remember what a steady, calm, and kind stepfather Tim became for Amy’s two sons, Nick and Hugh.
Sadly, there came a time this past fall when Tim was no longer able to spend his days at Bement. It felt strange to come to school knowing he wasn’t here. I wanted to see him sauntering across campus. I missed his friendly greetings, his courtesy, his humility, his thoughtfulness, and his friendship. Time after time I found myself noticing moments in the school day and wishing he were here with his camera. I still do. I’m so grateful that I had so many years to get to know him. I only wish I had a few more.
A Generous Soul
In Memory of Mike Kittredge PTT, P’06 ’18 ’21
MIKE KITTREDGE CALLED ME ONE DAY and asked if I could help get his son, Mick, into Bement for the fall. That was a wonderful call, as Mike and I were becoming close friends and my son, Parker, was just starting his friendship with Mick, who was the same age, and would be pleased to know that Mick was moving to Leverett and going to attend Bement.
Our sons became close, so we started spending a lot more time together. Mike joined Bement’s Board of Trustees at the same time Shelley Borror Jackson FHS, P’00 became the head of school and I became the board chair, taking over for Susan Clopton PTT, P’03.
After some years, Mike started a wonderful relationship with Lisa Bernier, and they were married with Mick in the wedding. A few years later Kylie was born, and I have had the privilege of watching and partaking in this young lady’s life. When it was time for school, there was no question where Kylie was headed. She thrived at Bement, and is now at Deerfield Academy. She is a great combination of both Mom and Dad. A few more years later, Casey was born and she was a most adorable infant. Casey is presently enjoying Bement and will soon be making the decision of where to go next. All three kids are true testaments to the love Mike had for not only his children, but other parent’s children too, as witnessed by such enormous generosity in every direction.
Anyone who knew Mike could attest to the fact that he was not only seriously smart but exceedingly funny, too. What people may not have known is that Mike was actually a shy man, but as his success grew and his confidence soared, he shared his humor and wisdom with all of us on the board.
Bement was experiencing a time of growth, and the board embarked on a plan to renovate the library, build an upper school building, and renovate other buildings—a tall order for a day school of 220, with about
Left: Mick ’06 and Mike PTT, P’06 ’18 ’21 Kittredge. Right: Lisa TT, P’06 ’18 ’21, Casey ’21, Mike PTT, P’06 ’18 ’21, and Kylie ’18 Kittredge at Kylie’s Bement Commencement
20 boarders at the time. We met with experts in fundraising from Deerfield Academy and others who thought raising $4.25 million was out of reach for us.
Mike and I privately discussed the merits of doing this. He always stated that if you wait, it will cost more, and he was correct. We decided the plan would gain credibility if we had a special lead gift. The board agreed, and one week later at a finance committee meeting, Mike stated that he had to leave early. As he got up to leave, he said, “Oh, to get us started, I will donate one million dollars.” Our committee was astounded, and Shelley started to cry—an easy moment to never forget. That campaign, thanks to many generous donors, became a big success and ushered in the largest physical change for Bement (at the time).
Spring Fling and an annual dinner and auction event proved to be a lot of work but a ton of fun. Mike made these events even more special as he donated wine, art, and time for students at his home, Juggler Meadow, a real haven of fun for everyone.
Mike was instrumental in inspiring our board to have confidence to do what was needed instead of fretting about what we could not do. That thoughtful approach was important to all of us, and it allowed us to propose and then tackle more positive changes in the school.
After board meetings and before dinner, Mike and I would go to the Deerfield Inn for a drink and to chat about how well the board was doing or to have interesting and animated conversations. Mike was always impeccably dressed, well spoken, thoughtful, and considerate of others.
He used to do amazing things for Halloween parties for all the neighborhood kids and Bement students. The candy bars were the largest and the theatrics he devised for the event were so over the top, one would need to see the video to understand just how much pleasure Mike derived from seeing others enjoy his gifts to all.
To me, Mike was the very smartest and funniest of my friends. His generosity had no bounds, and it all stemmed from a childhood of not having material things but a lot of family love and inspiration to move forward. No one I have ever known has a story like Mike’s, of rags to riches, from shy to the most humorous personality to ever grace The Bement School. For me and my family, the Kittredge family has shown us the world by plane, ship, and automobiles. Our travels can never be duplicated by the fun, love, and support we all enjoyed. Because of the Kittredge family, Bement has had more opportunities to show what a great school it is and how the Bement family is always there.
The Essence of Home
In Memory of Marianne Bourbeau P’75, PF
IT’S FUNNY WHAT THE “SENSE MEMORY” REMEMBERS years later. All through my years at Bement and beyond, I associated a stainless steel counter—Marianne’s stainless steel counter—with home. I still associate that kitchen counter at Bement with food, and with all the homework I completed upon it while Marianne baked away and offered advice and companionship with a listening ear and, yes, love. The first thing I saw when I walked into the kitchen was that stainless steel counter—and Marianne, always, standing next to it. The counter came to represent the essence of home and the people I care for who live within it, and also the changing seasons, and with them, ever-changing lives.
I recall dark autumn afternoons sitting at that counter in the kitchen, lights glowing while the old trees whistled and swayed outside in the rain as Marianne helped to mend a broken heart. I remember breezy spring mornings with the windows open, Marianne rolling out her famous chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls on that counter, and the heavenly scent wafting throughout the kitchen and drifting out the windows, beckoning to all the children.
Marianne’s stainless steel counter stayed long in my memory, so much so that years later, when my wife and I renovated our old kitchen, I had but one request: that it have a long, wide stainless steel countertop on a center island. And so it happened. And it is here where our daughter does her homework, where my wife bakes and cooks, where we comfort each other after a hard day, or share a glass of wine and discuss the state of the world, peering over the tops of our glasses and reading aloud
from an old-fashioned newspaper. Many tears have been shed and many laughs have been had over that stainless steel counter—so many that it’s too many to count.
And that is life, unfolding every day in an unremarkable way, over a stainless steel counter . . . time is passing and memories are being made. You don’t even realize it at the time, but the significance, the meaning— that is imprinted on the sense memory forever, and that memory brings great comfort, more with each passing year. Marianne standing guard at her counter laughing, smiling, working, hugging, baking, guiding, and comforting is complete within my sense memory, and I think of her so fondly—every morning when I sit at my stainless steel counter with my first cup of coffee, and every evening when I glance at the counter as I switch off the lights for the night.
Goodbye, Marianne. I’m sure you are in a very special place reserved for the kindest of souls. I would like to see you there, not standing at your counter working but sitting behind it, enjoying a cup of tea and the lovely view of Bement outside the old window. Perhaps I could join you there for a while, and we could sit and visit, just like the old days.
Au revoir, my friend.
