Nestled in a sunny section of University Hall, the office of Dean of Students Archie C. Epps III overlooks the center of Harvard Yard. On the 25th anniverary of his appointment as dean, the view of Widener Library and Memorial Church from Epps' window is a reminder that the College's original planners believed wise leadership would join the twin pillars of intellectual achievement and religious belief to form the foundations of an enlightened University.

Although he arrived at Harvard in 1958 to study religion, Epps has devoted his life to helping students navigate the College. Institutional philosophy has changed--most students today have come to worship only at Henry Elkins Widener's monolithic memorial--but Epps has maintained his belief in the role of the benevolent administrator.

"Early on, I personally decided I was going to represent the best of Harvard College," says Epps.

In his 25th year as dean of students, Epps has not forgotten this initial creed. As his son Josiah, a sophomore in Mather House, observes, "He loves Harvard. It gave him an opportunity to do what he loves, and it is an institution [that] stands for excellence."

Epps was born and raised in Lake Charles, Louisiana, a small city 160 miles from Houston, Texas; but he has found his home in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

"He was made to be the dean of students," says Josiah. Many at Harvard now see him as the "grand old man" of University Hall, as Associate Dean for Academic Planning Laura G. Fisher says.

It is Epps' tenure and style that have made him the most recognizable member of the administration.

"There are other Harvard administrators [who have been around as long as my father], but if a Harvard alumnus sees him they'll come and say hello. He can connect them and he can remember them," says Josiah. "It has happened on the top of the Alps, and it happens all the time in London."

An Unmistakable Presence

In 1970, then-president Nathan M. Pusey '28 appointed Epps dean of students, and he has occupied that post ever since. He has, many of his colleagues say, defined the office and brought his own unique style to University Hall.

"He is a character," says Thomas A. Dingman '67, associate dean for human resources and the house system. "He'll sometimes burst into song. On the worst March day, Archie will appear with a flower in his lapel."

A neighbor in University Hall, Dingman remembers fondly Epps' spontaneous teas. "He has always been adept at bringing some civility to the office," Dingman says.

Josiah Epps ventures an explanation for his father's unmistakable character. "Having that Southern part of you just slows everything down," he says.

Epps is cited by colleagues for his dedication to students.

"He [is] a good dean because he [is] one of those people who grew older without losing an understanding of what it meant to be young," says Warburg Professor of Economics Emeritus John Kenneth Galbraith, who was the Epps family's neighbor for 20 years.

Students say they admire the dean's willingness to listen carefully to their concerns and be honest with his response.

"He is certainly not afraid to say if he thinks something is a bad idea," says Dunster resident Marco B. Simons '97, the chair of the Undergraduate Council's Student Affairs Committee, who has worked with Epps.

"But I also think he's willing to work with students on things he might not be too enthusiastic about himself," Simons says.

Race Matters

Epps is striking not only for his style and interest in students but also for his role as Harvard's most prominent black administrator.

"My fundamental contribution, if there is going to be one in the end, will have been to shape the internal life of Harvard College so that it fosters a certain attitude toward race," Epps says. "I believe in racial integration and inclusiveness and a stress on academic achievement."

Epps initially approached his post as dean with the view that he was just another member of the administration and did not have a special position by virtue of his race. He is "a dean who happens to be black," says John B. Fox Jr. '59, secretary of the FAS and former dean of the College.

However, following the crisis of 1969 in which students occupied University Hall, Epps says, "the racial pressure on me was enormous."

Epps says he was forced to acknowledge his role as a black dean.

"Around the mid-'70s, I realized that Harvard was having lots of trouble over race, and if I wanted to contribute as dean I'd better try to get involved with it," Epps says.

He says he was aware that some students have questioned the role he chose for himself.

"The black administrator at other institutions is someone closely linked to and accountable to the black student movement on campus and is constantly battling with the institution," says Epps.

"That is not the role I chose for myself," he says. "There are black students who respond [positively], but I think the great bulk of them must be very frustrated not to have me automatically on their side."

Epps says he has realized, over the last two decades, that his race can be beneficial in mediating between students and the University's administration. "I think in many ways my race gives me certain advantages in dealing with these issues," he says.

"Archie seems to be the arbitrator, the mediator," says Lee Daniels '71, a preceptor in Expository Writing and an associate of the W.E.B. DuBois Institute who has known Epps well since Daniels' undergraduate years. "The voice is always kind of solicitous and concerned, and yet there is a little hint of the psychiatrist in Archie."

The student radicalism of the late '60s provided a unique test of Epps' ability to balance his responsibilities to both the students and the University. Daniels, who was a member of the Association of African and Afro-American Students in 1969, says he understood Epps' role as the link between the administration and the students.

"Archie's role is one of great subtlety," Daniels says. "Institutionally [he is] the bridge between students and the administration which means [he has] to be an advocate for both.... I think we had an appreciation for his position."

Daniels, who is a Crimson editor, says he does not begrudge Epps for his loyalty to the University and his criticism of the student protesters. "I had faith in Archie, so it didn't bother me. It was our task to press the institution. He was a member of the administration."

Much has changed, Daniels says, since the decade following the protests.

"The undergraduate community is a much better place than what I sensed it was in the mid-'80s. A lot of black students didn't feel comfortable," Daniels says. "Things needed to change."

They did, Daniels says, "probably because Archie and people like him pushed for it."

As Epps winds up his 25th year as dean of students, he says he is resolutely committed to the needs of minority students and still believes firmly in the cause of diversity.

"The real test of whether you contribute to the race is whether your presence in the University has increased the number of people in your position," he says.

'Grand Old Man'

Although Epps arrived at the College as a young man, he is now the longest-standing resident of University Hall. "I still feel very young, but I'm realizing that I've forgotten more history than most people know," says Epps. "I like being the elder statesman."

His long tenure has enabled him to form close ties with many of the students who attended the College.

"When I think of the number of Harvard students who have gotten to know him over the years, it is a network of friendships which stretches really around the world," says Richard M. Hunt, the University marshal, who has known Epps for 30 years.

"I don't think his values have changed or his way of interacting with people," says Fox. "I think he came here because Harvard represented something to him and his family, and that hasn't changed."

The last year, however, has been the most difficult in Epps' life. In February 1995, he was passed over for dean of the College in favor of Harry R. Lewis '68.

Although Epps says he expected a member of the faculty to be selected rather than a person from within the administration, he was disappointed that he did not get the post.

"I thought about being head of the College, but then the trend recently has been to appoint teaching faculty," he says.

When asked if he believed he was passed over because he was black, Epps says he could not be certain he was not. But, he adds, "I've never been a person who worried a lot about things I didn't know for sure."

By far the most difficult trial of the last nine months has been the problems Epps has had with his health. In September, he underwent heart surgery and, in January, he received a kidney transplant. "As I think back on it, I don't quite know how [the family] managed it," says Epps.

What is most extraordinary about the ordeal, Epps points out, is that his wife donated one of her kidneys for the transplant. Had a donor not been found, Epps says, he would have been able to live for only four years on dialysis.

"Valerie's courage is extraordinary," says Epps. "We like to think of it as the reverse of the Genesis story."

Epps says he thinks the challenge of his illness has brought his experiences into sharp focus.

"The question was, could I look back and say had I done well by the College?"

"I expect that when I finish, I will have carried us through a pretty important period and we will probably be a more racially-integrated College as a result of my work, and I will have made quite a contribution," Epps says