Memorial Posts

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Larry Peter Moore ~ Class of 1970

Larry Peter Moore ~ Class of 1970

Departed ~ date unknown ~ cancer

 

 

 

 

 

Scott Smith reported Larry’s death from cancer to several members of the reunion band “The Still Remains” in the late 1990’s. Larry was living in Hawaii at the time of his death.

 

Please send pictures (old and new), anecdotes, articles, stories and tributes to isbeings at gmail dot com

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Tadeusz “Tad” A. Wasilewski ~ Class of 1970

Tadeusz “Tad” A. Wasilewski ~ Class of 1970

Departed ~ 05/11/1975 ~ Car accident in Syracuse, NY

 

 

 

Forty-two years have passed since my brother left this earth. Not only was he my brother, but he was my best friend. Sure, when we were younger we would fight, like most siblings, but he was always there for me.

I remember one weekend during my first few weeks in college, I was homesick. By now I don’t remember why, but I was and I called Tad. I cried and cried telling him how homesick I felt. But being a flighty seventeen year old, I got over it very quickly and by Monday it was far from my memory. That Monday I was walking from the cafeteria to my dorm with my roommate when I saw this guy walking toward me. I commented to my roommate how much the guy looked like my brother. As we drew closer, I realized, it was Tad! He jumped in his car Sunday night in Richmond and drove all night to “rescue” me. That was my brother. It happened to also be the week of my birthday and it happened that my roommate and I shared the same birthday.
So you know who had an awesome celebration that year – yes my roommate and I! Tad was going to make sure baby sister was OK. To really make sure – he drove me back to Arlington to spend my birthday with my family and then bought my ticket to fly back to school.

Although he moved to Syracuse to continue school and I remained in Florida, he was always there for me. Encouraging me when I needed it and cheering me on when good things happened. I only saw him a few more times after that unexpected visit. Two more Christmases and my wedding in 1974.

On Mother’s day, May 11, 1975, my phone rang in the early morning hours. It was my parents with the awful news of by brother being killed in Syracuse. He was a passenger in a car driven by a drunk driver. The young driver survived, but my brother did not. I have to believe Tad’s mission on earth was completed, albeit at the young age of 22. Anyone who knew him knows that he enjoyed life! Maybe sometimes a little too much. The Mekong flowed as did the Singha, not to mention the ganga going up in smoke! Although our time together was very short, I think of him daily. I wish his nephews could have known him. I wish I could discuss politics with him. I wish he was with me during the darkest time of my life. I wish I hadn’t seen my parents so devastated by the loss of their only son. I wish I could remember how tall he was. However, even with all this wishing, I know he walks beside me everyday and his love has kept me strong.

Please send pictures (old and new), anecdotes, articles, stories and tributes to isbeings at gmail dot com

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Joe McMurdo ~ Class of 1972

Joe McMurdo ~ Class of 1972

Departed ~ 08/08/1972 ~ Car Accident

Memories of Joe McMurdo by Phillipe Ritter (73)

I met Joe and his brother Mike during the 7th grade at ISB. Mike was my age (73) and Joe was in the class of 72. Mike and I became best of friends and played in a band called the Midnight Hours. The group originally formed in 68 with Mike and Mark Rosenfield. The group grew and went through several personnel changes with one being that Joe joined the group as the rhythm guitarist. He had learned guitar quickly by playing along with us through the wall of his bedroom while the band practiced in the other room. We finally asked him if he wanted to join the group. I spent much of my time at the McMurdo house since the band practiced there. I soon learned that my father (Air America pilot) and Joe’s dad (Col/USA) were connected by work.

Joe was indeed a character. Smart, witty and full of adventure. Joe got me into the tea dances that use to be held at the Chaophya Hotel on Sundays. Mike and I would be his guests since we were not old enough. It was there that Joe taught me how to “elevator surf.” We would send the elevator to the top floor, then race to the roof of the hotel and access the elevator room. When the elevator got to the top floor, we would climb down onto the coach roof and ride up and down, inside the elevator shaft. We could look down into the elevator and see the people. They couldn’t see us. Occasionally we would see GI’s with some of the “local talent” alone in the elevator. I saw things I shouldn’t have.

Another thing Joe was into was chemistry. He would buy nitro glycerin and we would play with it. He learned to make gun powder and made bombs with it. Not big ones though. We would set them off in a vacant field near their house. He also built and launched those Essex rockets that you made from kits. He learned how to make this stuff we called “touch explosive.” It was an ammonium/iodine complex that was unstable and would pop/explode when touched. He painted it on everything and for a while, you could not walk through the McMurdo house without stepping on or touching some. Joe and I would paint it on the hand rails of Thai buses and sit in the back to watch the Thais jump as they set it off. It was everything we could do to not laugh and get caught as they looked around to see who did it. The stuff never hurt. The pop your hand or fingers felt was more of a surprise…..like getting a static electricity shock.

When the McMurdo’s left Thailand (1969), they ended up in Hawaii. On a summer trip (1970) back to the states, I stayed with the McMurdo’s. Joe was driving by then. He had bought an old British Hillman (barely running) out of a nearby junk yard. Joe, Mike and I worked on the damn thing all summer, rummaging through junk yards to get parts to keep it running and to fix it up. We patched all the rust we could and had it painted fire engine red. The car was our means to go bodysurfing at Makapu Beach on the other side of the island. Something we did almost every day. With the windows down, the radio blaring and the Hillman straining and backfiring, we would drive up and over the Poly-Highway, all the while wondering if we would even make it. Life was never better. We went to concerts. Even saw Jimi Hendrix! Sometimes we all would go surfing before dawn to avoid the serious surfers who didn’t like beginners on “their” waves and would let you know it too. None of us could surf worth crap. Terry Rodgers (72) and her brother Steve also spent some time living at the house. Terry had been in the Midnight Hours as the organist. Terry and Joe became attached. It was the best summer I ever had.

It was about September of 1972 that I learned of Joe’s death. We had just moved back to the states in August and saw Joe’s mom who had come in from Hawaii to visit family friends who lived near us in Texas. Joe died in an auto accident at about 3:30AM, August 8, 1972, on I-80 in Rawlins, Wyoming. He and Terry Rodgers were hitchhiking back to the West coast on their way back to Hawaii. Joe was killed along with the driver. Terry had just earlier switched seats with Joe to get some sleep in the back seat of the VW bug they were in. During the late night drive, it is believed that the driver fell asleep and drove off a rise and smashed down onto a concrete embankment. Terry barely survived with serious injuries.

Years later, I saw Terry at an ISB reunion (Clearwater 94) and she told me the story. Joe was a good friend. I still miss him.

Please send pictures (old and new), anecdotes, articles, stories and tributes to isbeings at gmail dot com

 

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Eric Patch ~ Class of 1971

Eric Patch ~ Class of 1971

Departed ~ 1972 ~ Motorcycle accident in Iran

 

 

Eric and I were friends in Bangkok over several years in the late 1960s. I used to go to his house, which his mother Laure made so welcoming, and hang out with him before heading out into the Bangkok night for what kinds of fun I can’t remember, though I’m sure it included Mario’s Pizza in the Gaysorn shopping area. We once took a trip to Vientiane, Laos, together with his sister Arla, my brother Richard, and a woman who ostensibly was a chaperone. Eric was funny and smart, and always had his own way of dressing, mixing Carnaby Street mod with funky paisley ties and whatever else was around. I remember that during the trip to Vientiane, Eric spent a lot of his time reading in his bunk. It’s been many years since Eric died so suddenly, riding his motorcycle in Iran with his girlfriend, trying to get to Europe in a hurry; unfortunately, in Iran, the trucks in the mountain passes just turned off their lights at night and parked in the road. The only redeeming thing that can be said about someone having died so young is that Eric lived a full life, as young as he was, and left behind with anyone who ever knew him his infectious laughter and smile.

Dave Clarke 71′

Please send pictures (old and new), anecdotes, articles, stories and tributes to isbeings at gmail dot com

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Gustav “Trey” Joseph Akerland III ~ Class of 1970

 

Trey Akerland Class of 1970

Arrived ~ August 5, 1952

Departed ~ January 21, 1969

Accounting of Trey’s death as written by his Mother

Ida Akerland wrote:

As we went through the gate, I turned and saw the smoke rising and thought of Kahil Gibran’s words: For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the Sun? As of today, we still don’t know why Trey wanted to leave us.

David,

It was a pleasure to see you at the ISB reunion this past weekend in Nashville. Attached you will find a PDF of the letter that my mother wrote regarding the circumstances surrounding my brother Trey’s death. This is the same letter that you used your phone to copy. I thought that the PDF would be useful to you. Please feel free to use as you wish to update the information about Trey on the ISB Network website. I spoke with Jon Cole at his book signing. He remembered Trey and thought that he had been killed on train tracks. I’m sure there are others who have incorrect information regarding the circumstances of Trey’s death. I’d like to correct the record about how Trey died. Hopefully my mother’s account can fix that. For the record, my parents’ names are Gus and Ida Akerland. Trey was named after his grandfather and father. He was the third, thus the nickname of “Trey”. I also know that I am now probably the only living person who was there when Trey died, and if I don’t get the record corrected then it will always be a mystery. I have always wanted to live my life openly and honestly and this is one aspect of my life that perhaps I can correct.

I could not have done this sixteen years ago when we first met at the Bangkok ISB 50th anniversary. That was the first time that I had been back since I attended ISB. I had the opportunity to go back to the building where we had lived and to stand on the spot where Trey had died. That certainly was a cathartic experience for me. Your presence in my life at that time has helped me to be where I am today to share this information with you. I am now 60 and it has been almost 50 years since Trey died. I know we each have our own life journeys to travel and this experience has been mine. Thank you for being apart of helping me have a greater experience of being whole.

I look forward to meeting again,
Chuck Akerland ’76

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