TRIBUTES TO RICHARD MARSHALL DAVIS '59

History teacher 1965-2003

Service held on November 9, 2003
Walker Hall

"When I think of Taft, I think of Mr. Davis"
William G. Nicholson, faculty emeritus

I'm sure all of us were flooded with memories of Rick Davis when news of his death reached us in late September. One old image, however, kept returning to me. I vividly remembered many sessions late into the night during freshman year in college exchanging tales with new friends about our former schools, which would invariably turn to stories of our most memorable teachers. I could only imagine how many times and on how many different college campuses over the years that stories of Rick Davis, the man and his classroom, were shared. And later those stories were passed on to other friends, wives, husbands, and children.

I was his colleague for 28 years, and he was the teacher of our three children. He was clearly one of my most respected colleagues in a career that spanned 39 years. Intelligent, challenging, witty, and well educated, his company was exciting. I like to think that he brought out the best in me in the many political discussions, both public and private, that we had over the years. And I'm sure that none of you here has to be reminded where Rick stood politically. Connie and I felt fortunate that our children would be shown the other side of political and historical issues by a person so articulate and so well grounded in history. And I remember my daughter Allie ['80], a rising senior at the time, one night at dinner turning to her lower mid brother and saying, "I have only one piece of advice to give you. Take every course you can with Mr. Davis." And I, in turn, would often say of him, "Rick Davis is one of the reasons students should come to Taft."

My daughter's memories reflect those of the many hundreds of Taft students who studied under Rick Davis. "He was intellectually interesting and challenging. You could never be complacent in one of his classes. He saw through artifice and his sense of humor made the history text come to life. And for all of the caustic wit and rapier thrusts at various historical figures, he was always kind to his students. He was 'the real McCoy,' one in a line of great Taft teachers who really cared about what they did." My son Chris ['83] recalled Rick being "really fair...a real 'pro.' He was a person of integrity who provided you with a first-rate education in history. He returned papers quickly with a lot of useful comments on them. Time would fly in his classroom. When he missed a class, I was disappointed."

Rick Davis was a private, solitary man who became increasingly so as the years passed. But many of us have pleasant memories of term-ending late afternoon parties in his CPT apartment during the late 1960s and early 1970s where he entertained his fellow teachers and their wives with grace and generosity. I always found him a responsive and engaging fellow whose observations were never banal, whose wit and good humor enlivened countless conversations.

Although The Taft School has had many outstanding history teachers since its founding in 1890, including several in this room, two men—John T. Reardon and Richard M. Davis—dominated the department, with a break of a decade, over a period of 89 years from 1914 to 2003. Reardon was hired by Horace Dutton Taft and Davis served under Taft's fifth headmaster, Willy MacMullen. Think of that. And that is only one aspect of Rick Davis' noteworthy career. His influence on people away from the Taft campus and for many years later was most extensive. No one knows how many Taft graduates went on to major in history in college and to earn advanced degrees in the field as a result of Davis' teaching, but you know there were many.

Our son Chris who did his graduate work under a veritable Who's Who in American history at Columbia— including Eric Foner and Allen Brinkley—felt that Rick Davis "could hold his own with any one of them intellectually. As a presence in the classroom he was their superior." Once in a conference with Professor Foner on James Buchanan, Chris brought up a personal anecdote on America's fifteenth President, causing Foner to exclaim, "Where did you hear that?! I thought I was the only one at Columbia who knew of it." The anecdote? Buchanan while serving as U. S. ambassador to France had been arrested in a Paris bordello frequented by male homosexuals. I ask you, in what other American prep school could students learn of such things? And how many of us here recall how President Franklin Pierce's wife went mad and why America's 14th president turned into a dipsomaniac? More seriously, Taft grads felt empowered by Davis. "I felt I had a leg up on anybody," recalled Chris. "I still have my Taft notes and even used them as a graduate student. When I think of Taft, I think of Mr. Davis."

Another son, Hugh '84, recalled that "Mr. Davis had an aura of natural authority about him; he didn't have to work at it. He really prepared one for college. In graduate school at Yale, ten years after being in A.P. history, I used my Taft notes for footnotes on my first paper. My professor returned the essay with the comment that I was the only one in the class who got the footnotes right and wanted to know where I had gone to school."

In one of his best poems, Robert Browning has the naturally talented but careless Florentine painter Andrea del Sarto lamenting his unfulfilled artistic life saying, "Ah, but a man's life should exceed his grasp/Or what's a heaven for." Certainly none of Rick Davis' charges ever left his classroom feeling unfulfilled as history students, that they had never been challenged to reach beyond themselves. And with his students he also reached in his chosen profession, taking teaching to a higher level and all of his colleagues with him. And that ultimately will be Richard Marshall Davis' lasting legacy.

Lance R. Odden
Headmaster Emeritus

Of all in the Taft community, I believe I go back the longest in Rick Davis's life. We overlapped at Princeton and shared many of the same teachers. Rick often recalled a 1959 Taft tea dance with Noroton School where he met Patsy. The stuff of another era.

His real impact came when he arrived fresh from tutoring at the King Ranch in Texas. That year Rick lived across the hall from Patsy and me on CPT4.

He was an instant hit with students who gathered in his apartment until late in the night, smoking cigarettes, watching TV, and engaging in heated debates about our growing involvement in the Vietnam crisis. Equally immediately, it became apparent that Rick and his great friend JR Williams would have an electric effect on Taft's history department.

Rick established himself as a brilliant lecturer—amusing, often sarcastic, always arrayed with a total command of information and inevitably challenging students and colleagues alike to reexamine their beliefs. To know Rick Davis, to study under him, was to encounter a brilliant mind free of the pressure of political correctness or socially inclusive history from "the bottom up." His history was political, diplomatic and economic, chronologically based, and most often determined by great leaders. He made history come alive and truly loved engaging students who disagreed with him, though most often they were too awed by his encyclopedic knowledge to do so. His mind was eclectic and broad. He taught himself anthropology and introduced it to our curriculum. Al Reiff Sr. often said that if he could not teach A.P. biology, Rick Davis could as he was easily the best student Al ever taught.

In his years at Taft, Rick did it all from coaching Gamma soccer to club golf, assignments he accepted with little enthusiasm. To directing club plays, to leading the debate program, to chairing the History Department, to running CPT2 for over twenty years, he brought energy, high standards, and great pride.

Never a social being, Rick gave the best departmental parties. Yet he was difficult to know well. His very shyness in personal relations made it hard for him to raise difficult issues. Uninformed or incorrect comments by members of the History Department drew harrumphs rather than outright dismissal. He was known for his infamous "rick-o-grams," which often infuriated their recipients. Here three aspects are clear: He wrote because he was not comfortable face to face, his complaints usually focused on infringements on faculty prerogative or seniority, or an apparent failure to care properly for his school. When we addresses those concerns face to face, he was most often apologetic, even embarrassed by the power of his words, almost like a little boy.

But this was no little boy, but rather a teacher with a powerful mind. To this day I recall a conversation Rick had with JR Williams and me in the old faculty room. It was the fall of 1968 following the disastrous presidential nominating process that produced Hubert Humphrey and Richard Nixon thanks to machine politics and the power of party elders or "bosses." Ideas about reforming the nominating process and giving power to the broad body politic were in the air and about to give birth to the costly, endless charade we know today. Beware of change produced in response to one bad election, Rick argued. Beware of change too easily made; it will have unintended consequences. Who is going to pay for this process? Who can take the time to run? Who knows better than the party elders who should head their party anyway? And what might come of the conventions? Thirty-five years ago Rick seemed blindly resistant to appropriate change. Today his insights seem brilliantly prescient.

Rick might have been shy about personal communications but he was never uncertain about his opinion on the nature of humanity and the need for order for a civil society to flourish. Thus, he challenged us all to change with caution and to think carefully about what we wanted. To the end, he was a true conservative.

This he challenged and he inspired a generation of Taft students and teachers to respect history, to understand tradition, and to lead with care. He gave his life to the school he loved so dearly and now he joins his heroes, his teachers—Harry Stearns, Bill Sullivan, Ed Douglas, Joe Cunningham, and Al Reiff Sr.—in the photos of the Taft Faculty Room and in the faculty room in the sky. We give our thanks for all he taught, certain that in the words of his hero Henry Adams, his influence as a teacher will live on for generations to come.

If you have memories of Rick Davis that you would like to share here, please e-mail them to Bulletin editor Julie Reiff. Please know that tributes may be edited for length, content, and clarity. Thank you.

RICHARD MARSHALL DAVIS

By John C. Esty, Headmaster of the Taft School, 1963 - 1972

I always look forward to reading the Taft PAPYRUS, which I receive in the mail. It seems to me an excellent student newspaper—although when I was headmaster I am not sure I always felt that way. But, I certainly was not prepared to open the October 3, 2003 issue and to confront the stunning news that Rick Davis had died suddenly at the school.

There is something else stunning about that issue of the PAP: the whole paper was about Rick Davis and his effect on students and his mastery of the art of teaching. In all my 50 years in the school business, I have never encountered such paeans of praise for a teacher—written not just by his graduates, but largely by his current students.

[I choose the word paean carefully, for it means a song of praise or triumph, originally applied only to Greek Deities, such as Apollo.]

That issue of the PAP truly represents an extraordinary tribute to a truly extraordinary teacher and schoolmaster.

One line in the front-page story caught my eye. It tells how Rick Davis was offered a job at Taft, "which he accepted after asking the headmaster to wait for him while he compared his offers" at several other schools. Because I know the passage of time often creates anonymity, I shall have to claim to be that anonymous headmaster who offered the job to Rick.

It was in the spring of 1965, my second year as the new headmaster of Taft. I was just getting the hang of recruiting and hiring new teachers—a function of the head of the school that I happened to believe is the most important thing he or she can possibly accomplish.

I remember well when Richard Marshall Davis walked into my office—even 40 years later. I was already pre-disposed to Rick Davis because I knew he was a Taft alumnus in the Class of 1959. In a residential school like Taft, it is always useful to have faculty members who know all the tricks and know all the hiding places. I see Barclay Johnson is here today; he represents a fine example of a Taft alumnus who became a great teacher and who probably invented most of those tricks and found most of the hiding places when he was a student!

My first impression of Rick Davis was that he was immaculately dressed—something that was quite refreshing, for this was the mid 1960s! Next, I sensed a coiled energy, much of which radiated from his piercing eyes. I will never forget his eyes! He had an incisive way of speaking, which led me to believe I was hearing the most definitive statement possible on any of the subjects we discussed. And, indeed, we ranged over history and ideas and learning. At the time, we needed a lower level football coach, and I had intended to ask Rick if he could coach football; somehow, I never dared to ask him. I was so taken with him that I offered him a job teaching at Taft on the spot. Then, what headmaster Willy MacMullen calls, his "obstinate side" kicked in. Indeed, he asked if he could wait until he could compare offers from Hotchkiss and Lawrenceville. I was tempted to suggest that I wondered about his taste in schools, but I simply said, "We want you for Taft." We shook hands and he left. A few days later he called to accept the job at Taft.

The rest is history. It is the story of a promising neophyte who, over the years, grew into a great teacher.

A great school is essentially the product of great teachers and great teaching. Great teachers live in the hearts and minds of their students.

Rick Davis will always be a great teacher.

Letters

I am deeply saddened to learn of the death of Rick Davis '59.

I got to know Mr. Davis during senior year at Taft, in the classroom and also in the residence hall. He is someone I will never forget.

On our corridor, everyone used to call him "RM." He was a real friend to all of us. I can say for certain that he made at least one awkward kid feel right at home. We would go to his apartment to watch movies on his Sony BetaMax; he had an awesome collection of films and books. The best part of watching a movie with RM was listening to his running commentary, which always interfaced with his vast knowledge of world history. He would turn a one-dimensional movie into an event. He also kept my popcorn machine in his apartment, and would graciously allow us to use it when he was around.

In class, he had a brilliant mind, and a kind soul. I still remember his laugh and one of his many wry comments to students, said with a grin and a humorous inflection: "You have a remarkable grasp of the obvious." RM could get away with that. Everyone would laugh, and he would effectively make his point, without hurting anyone's feelings. He was clearly a Princeton patrician, so bright that if he didn't enlighten you with such probing comments and such brutally honest insight, you would feel cheated. But, he was also remarkably down to earth and approachable.

I feel truly honored to have known Mr. Davis. He was a wonderful man, and a real friend, to myself, and to many Tafties.

What a terrible loss for Taft, and what a great person to have known.

Hal Meyer '82
Wakefield, RI

***

I was deeply saddened to hear of the passing of Mr. R.M. Davis. He was the embodiment of a teacher in every sense of the word. While memories of his A.P. American History class are at once rewarding and terrifying, I can say without qualification that he was the most prolific teacher I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I can recall staying up all night to finish a research paper for that class which I thought for sure would come back with a "2" or even the dreaded "rewrite." Only after it came back a "5" did I realize the extent to which this man's impeccable standards and passion for the subject had been impressed upon me.

Mr. Davis also took the time to write me a college recommendation, one which I am sure carried substantial weight in my favor. Of course, I also knew Mr. Davis from living on his floor in CPT my senior year. I remember entering the vestibule seeking his help or advice and feeling relieved when the antique lamp was lit, inviting me to knock on the inner door. I remember his love of film and the obscure titles about which he would speak to us at sign in on Saturday nights. Mr. Davis' passing is a loss to the Taft community and to the thousands of students he inspired over his long career. In a greater sense, it is a loss to those who love history as he taught it: true, unbiased, and always from the hip.

Nathaniel A. Sherman '96

***

I knew RM very well, and I have always thought of him fondly in my recollections of Taft. While he was opinionated and pushy as a teacher, I will always remember him as the best teacher I ever had. I never had a more committed, knowledgeable or confident teacher before or since.

 I was fortunate to have him for three classes, AP US History, Russian History, and Physical Anthropology. I remember more of what was taught in those classes than anything else I studied at Taft or in college. In addition, I was a monitor on the 2nd floor of CPT my senior year and I remember many a night watching movies in his apartment.

He was a true, great old prep school teacher. He kept a formal but pleasant distance and always respected his students, even if he made it difficult. If you came prepared and worked hard he responded in kind. He could tell immediately if you were not prepared, and you paid for it. If you became passionate about the topic he could tell immediately and he was that much more animated.

I majored in history in college in large part because of RM. I spent three years teaching history at a small private school in large part because of RM. I continue to hold a passion for history of all kinds. I have traveled broadly and read history and biographies primarily. While I had a love of history before I met RM, he helped nurture that love in me as he did for so many students that passed through Taft during his decades as a fixture in CPT.

–Garrett Wyman ’87

***

I was really sad to hear that Mr. Davis, one of my favorite teachers, passed away this September, and I wish that I could have attended his funeral, but living so far away does have information come to me a few months later.

Mr. Davis had a great role in my academic life while at Taft, teaching me history and broadening my views regarding American history and today’s historical implications in world politics. His classes were challenging, intensive, but highly motivating for me to explore more and to go deeper into the topics discussed. The class discussions were the highlight of his teaching....

My senior year a few people (including myself) made a class elective: "A cinema in history." Oh, God how he loved movies–we used to sit twice a week in his apartment for hours discussing, reading, and watching documentary films about the movie industry. What a class that was! Absolutely stunning–the love and passion he had for movies was amazing and the way how he was teaching us was breathtaking.

With this little note I would like to express my deepest sympathy to his family and loved ones and to say that the memories stay untouched forever.

Sincerely, Ivor Vucelic ’96

***

During my brief time as a Taft student (from 1992-93), the one teacher who stodd out in my mind moreso than any other was R. M. Davis. The reasons why are numerous, but only one need be mentioned here. He beat me.

As a student prior to attending Taft, I was, without wanting to sound too braggadocious, quite stellar, having been awarded numerous awards, including the Presidential Certificate of Academic Fitness and a four-year scholarship to Taft. And try as I might not to be so, youth and pride made for one cocky, yet terminally lazy lower middler.

I had no problems in most of my classes in the beginning... and then I had Ancient Civilizations. And the beginning of the end for me.

At first, I thought that my decline in grades was due to my natural disdain for all things history-related, but then discovered that it wasn't that at all. It was the teacher. He was in such command of the class's attention and the course material, that I was intimidated. Not that this is a bad thing when I look at it now, but as a 15-year-old, it was awe-inspiring to see a teacher whose presence demanded respect. Which, when coupled with the natural rebelliousness of a teenager, made for my worst academic performance ever, practically failing every single assignment that he gave.

Now I started out by saying that the reason why he stood out was because he beat me. And it's true, but don't get me wrong. I don't mean that he actively deterred my progress, not helping me after class, or offering totutor me, or showing genuine concern for my academic and personal welfare.

He did all of this, and more. And yet, what I say is true. He beat me; that is, he showed me something about myself that I was so afraid of at the time that it eclipsed everything else I had ever thought true: my potential. He challenged me to be better than what I was, to perform at a level that I hadn't had to and didn't think possible. I will always thank him for posing that challenge to me.

Even though I failed his class (and many others at Taft, hence my dismissal my middler year), the fact remains that the lessons he taught me remain fresh in my memory.

Thank you, Mr. R.M. Davis. For everything. May God be with you and yours.

Most sincerely,
Walter Conley