It's so sad to note Kevin's death. I especially enjoyed his cerebral and humorous conversations during junior year in Evans Hall.
When I think of Kevin, I smile recalling his imitation (with raised arms and the victory hand-sign) of Richard Nixon proclaiming "I am not a crook!" I also remember his story of his waiting at a bus stop, suitcase in hand in Coon Rapids (Minn.) where he grew up: Two guys clearly less intelligent than Kevin accosted him, asking what he had in the suitcase. His reply was "attire." They interpreted his answer as "a tire" and proceeded to beat him up for being so insolent
I will miss Kevin's self-deprecating humor. Kevin, while you are up "there," give Nixon a little hell with your fine rendition of himself!
I have only today learned of Kevin's passing via the short notice in the Spring 2007 Voice. I concur with Dirk. This is sad news indeed. I last saw Kevin at a Reunion many years ago, but many years after graduation. He seemed so much like the young man I met when we were both freshman on 4th Musser that it seems impossible that he is gone. Though slight of stature, Kevin's endurance and perseverance were his hallmarks. He seemed a fixed point of virtue and logic in an impersonal and irrational world.
Fourth Musser was not known for any affinity with Greek Philosophy, Classical Music, or Chess, which were Kevin's passions and solace. There were, however, bridge games, and bridge was the bridge by which Kevin became part of the heart of that floor. His humor was could be biting, but to fellows his manner (and manners) were always inviting. He believed deeply in fellowship, and practiced it diligently.
I always felt unequal to Kevin in all things musical and philosophical, not to mention chess and bridge. So I felt accomplished indeed my junior year when he accepted an article of mine for Pegasus, the Carleton journal of philosophy, with only a single edit. That edit, I should add, was a tremendous improvement. I am glad to learn that in recent years he was a full time writer and editor, and that he published a novel that combined his interests in history and chess.
Kevin is no doubt now holding court on what A.E. Houseman called the Golden Floor, regaling his fellow bridge players with tales of his adventures in this far muddier realm (as well as his Nixon impersonation). Farewell, my friend.
Comments
It's so sad to note Kevin's death. I especially enjoyed his cerebral and humorous conversations during junior year in Evans Hall.
When I think of Kevin, I smile recalling his imitation (with raised arms and the victory hand-sign) of Richard Nixon proclaiming "I am not a crook!" I also remember his story of his waiting at a bus stop, suitcase in hand in Coon Rapids (Minn.) where he grew up: Two guys clearly less intelligent than Kevin accosted him, asking what he had in the suitcase. His reply was "attire." They interpreted his answer as "a tire" and proceeded to beat him up for being so insolent
I will miss Kevin's self-deprecating humor. Kevin, while you are up "there," give Nixon a little hell with your fine rendition of himself!
I have only today learned of Kevin's passing via the short notice in the Spring 2007 Voice. I concur with Dirk. This is sad news indeed. I last saw Kevin at a Reunion many years ago, but many years after graduation. He seemed so much like the young man I met when we were both freshman on 4th Musser that it seems impossible that he is gone. Though slight of stature, Kevin's endurance and perseverance were his hallmarks. He seemed a fixed point of virtue and logic in an impersonal and irrational world.
Fourth Musser was not known for any affinity with Greek Philosophy, Classical Music, or Chess, which were Kevin's passions and solace. There were, however, bridge games, and bridge was the bridge by which Kevin became part of the heart of that floor. His humor was could be biting, but to fellows his manner (and manners) were always inviting. He believed deeply in fellowship, and practiced it diligently.
I always felt unequal to Kevin in all things musical and philosophical, not to mention chess and bridge. So I felt accomplished indeed my junior year when he accepted an article of mine for Pegasus, the Carleton journal of philosophy, with only a single edit. That edit, I should add, was a tremendous improvement. I am glad to learn that in recent years he was a full time writer and editor, and that he published a novel that combined his interests in history and chess.
Kevin is no doubt now holding court on what A.E. Houseman called the Golden Floor, regaling his fellow bridge players with tales of his adventures in this far muddier realm (as well as his Nixon impersonation). Farewell, my friend.