from George's brother, Dave

My dear brother, George, was a year-and-a-half younger. We were both born in Bordeaux, France. Our Father was a veteran of 3 years on U.S. Navy destroyers as a junior officer in the Pacific theatre in WW II. He’d married our Mother while on a brief leave from the second, the USS Wadleigh, named for his grandfather. He had been the Damage Control Officer and had overseen temporary repairs when it struck a mine, later determined to have been the most heavily damaged destroyer that was kept afloat in the War. And they didn’t offer courses in welding at Harvard! He had taken his Foreign Service exams after the war and his first assignment was in the Bordeaux consulate. His 3 years there as vice-consul centered on applying the benefits of the Marshall Plan and convincing the French that turning to Communism wasn’t a wise choice. He had just been promoted to Assistant Ambassador to Portugal at the age of 29 and was in his first month in Lisbon when he contracted polio. Our Mother received a telegram in Bordeaux, followed almost immediately by another that he had not survived. There she was with 3 kids under the age of 3. George was not yet 1 month old. I cannot imagine the strength that she had. The "Greatest Generation” indeed. Her parents flew over a day later, and the 6 of us sailed for the U.S., with hopes and dreams in tatters. Our family settled in Concord, Massachusetts, our Mom’s hometown, sheltered in the love of our grandparents and countless relatives and friends. Mom was determined. A Vassar graduate, class of '44, she entered a Masters program at Fletcher School of International Law and Diplomacy. Sister Mary joked at Mom’s memorial service in 2006 that that was just who the State Department was looking to recruit - widows with 3 small children. After earning her Masters, she instead took a job at the Fenn School teaching French and a number of other subjects. We three kids went to the wonderful local Brooks School that took us through 3rd grade. We had friends and cousins, we had our bicycles, we had safe neighborhoods and happy memories.

There were so many constants in our lives. Our Mom especially. Our Kidder Grandparents. Their love and their Christian Science faith gave us so much. After church, a big Sunday lunch, every Sunday without fail. George and I would pick the asparagus in their garden. We’d go with them to George Root’s farm for other veggies. We’d listen to Sox games with Grandpa Kidder on the radio most Sunday afternoons - no, the Red Sox, not the White Sox. I have a letter Grandpa wrote to his parents from France in August of 1918 when he’d shipped overseas for World War I, asking how the Sox were doing. That was of course the last year they won the World Series. There was a short break before their next, about 84 years, I believe. We spent the first month every summer in Jamestown, Rhode Island, with our Grandmother Wadleigh. Her home, where our Father had been raised, was right on Narragansett Bay. We’d swim with Nanan almost every day and eat our sandwiches on the rocks by the water at lunch. There were croquet games that occasionally ended in ill feelings. Nanan allowed Mary to play her Ricky Nelson records on her prized Victrola, where only classical music was usually ever heard. Nanan loved telling us about the Wadleigh and Remey naval heritage, getting us invitations to have lunch on board a couple of times when destroyers were docked in Newport. The second month of the summer was always spent in our Kidder Grandparent’s summer home on Cuttyhunk Island. There were again picnics on the beach, Yacht Club and sailing, blackberries to pick, a ton of kids our ages to hang out with, cousins, aunts and uncles. What a privileged upbringing.

In 1958, a young US Navy Commander entered the Fletcher School as a mid-career Masters Degree candidate. He was a bachelor. One of his professors, who remembered Mom from 6 or 7 years earlier, said “Wouldn’t you be interested in asking a lovely young Fletcher grad with 3 wonderful children out for a date?” Mom had had a couple of suitors over the years. The 3 of us kids were quite candid about our impressions. They were losers. Charles Shane was different. George and I were very enthusiastic yes’s. Mary - not so much. She had been very young, but she had memories of our Father and was reluctant to see a new Dad. Mom made a wonderful choice. I can remember them returning from their first date, a Boston Symphony, us peering down from the second floor through the railings. Charles was a terrific Dad for 42 years. He gave us excellent advice in a very quiet manner. We sometimes even followed it. For George and I to have a Dad was incredible. His next assignment after Fletcher was at the Pentagon and we lived in Potomac, Maryland. It wasn’t Concord, Massachusetts, and Landon School was not our cherished Fenn School. But we adapted. In 7th grade, I had a science teacher who gave extra credit questions all based on his love of railroads. And they were the same questions every year. And nobody ever got them right. I told George what they were and the answers. So I’m sitting in 8th grade French class and George is down the hall in 7th grade Science, and all of a sudden I hear Pinky Gardner (his face would get red at various times) “Wadleigh where are you?” He comes steaming into my class and screams in my face, “Did you give your brother those answers?” I said “well, uh, yeah, I did”. Nobody at Fenn would have yelled like that! Anyway we survived 3 years. Julie was born in September of our second year there. What a darling. All three of us kids doted over her. I think it mellowed all three of us older kids. We were fairly combative at times.

The third year in Maryland, Mary went back to Concord as a boarding student. We knew that Dad’s next Navy assignment after the Pentagon would be overseas, either in Oslo or London. How cool was that?! But it meant interruptions in our high school years. George went back to Fenn for his 8th grade year as a 5-day boarder. He got to spend every weekend at our Kidder Grandparents. I was a regular boarder at Middlesex. It was a mile-and-a-half bike ride to their house for me. Every Wednesday after sports, every Saturday afternoon, I was there. My preferences were taking their canoe out on the Assebet River, usually fishing. George just liked to be with the Grandparents. I am out of my league with a biblical reference here, but George was a “fisher of men” as Christ instructed Simon Peter and Andrew to be. I was happy with pickerel, bluegills, trout, whatever.

On Sundays I realized all the Catholic kids got a cab ride to Mass in Concord. I figured, well, why shouldn’t Christian Scientists have the same privilege? And the school actually bought it! And I got to go to Sunday school with girls! And then have lunch at my grandparents! And then go canoeing on the river, maybe even do a few chores.

Meanwhile Mom, Dad and Julie were in London. A really challenging job for Dad that he loved, Mom was in Heaven. Always an Anglophile of the highest order, she just adored it. George did his 9th grade year at Latimer Upper. Off he’d trudge in his gray flannel shorts. He was known as the “Yank” of course. I think he only got cained once, I can’t imagine for what. Maybe Robbie, Allison or Sarah were told the inside scoop.

When George finished up at Noble and Greenough and headed to Stanford, I only got to see him on vacations. George has always loved to have long philosophical conversations, especially with those who might differ with him. When Stanford would have tables set up for various religious groups, George would always find a person of a different persuasion to discuss issues. He had such a gentle spirit, I can’t imagine that it was anything but beneficial to both. He really enjoyed political issues. He and I tended to fall into separate sides of the GOP-Democratic divide. Mary and I found Barry Goldwater quite appealing in those days. George did not. In 1967 someone set up a "George Wallace for President" table at Stanford. George sidled over and got to discussing issues. I told you he loved debating! Anyway, when he parted ways, he thought it would be fun to sign me up! He evidently didn’t have my actual mailbox address at Dartmouth on him, but he remembered my fraternity’s name. All the mail there was spread out on a table. There it was, “YFW”  addressed to me. How did anyone recognize those three silly letters, but they did! Youth For Wallace. I caught all sorts of grief for that. I still have frat brothers that remind me of that. Talk about getting pranked!

Sue and I married in 1971 and bought a farm in southern Ohio where we raised sheep and taught school. George visited a number of times in those 12 years. He really enjoyed it, but I really don’t remember him being very inquisitive about my old tractor, or how we baled hay, or where we purchased feed. We took him to the State Fair one fall, and while Sue and I were admiring this breed of sheep or that, George was somehow discussing philosophical issues with the guys whose sheep we were admiring. But his book does have a ram in the title!

The last thing I’ll share with you are two incidents involving archery. The first is shrouded in the past, thankfully. I remember the first part and the last, definitely refuse to remember the middle. One of Mom’s suitors, truly a loser, was at our house trying to impress us kids. I must have been in first grade, George in Kindergarten. I’d received a silly little bow and arrow set from this guy, with rubber suction cups on the arrows. I talked this guy into taking off the suction cup and hammering a small brad through the tip. We went outside. What could go wrong? George came back in the house some time later, with the arrow hanging out of his cheek, not far from his eye. I have no memory of that whatsoever. I do remember well-deserved consequences.

The second archery incident occurred much, much later. A fellow named Cupid had the most delightful task of getting George and Bonniesue together. Heavens, was his aim ever straight and true. I can’t imagine two people who were a more perfect match. My brother was such a lucky fellow and such a wonderful guy! And we are so lucky and blessed. Thank you.