While many undergraduates couldn't pick Harvard's top administrators out of a lineup, Dean of Students Archie C. Epps III cuts a recognizable figure with his trademark bow tie and boutonniere.

A familiar face in the anonymous University, Epps has made Cambridge his home for the last 40 years.

Since he entered Harvard as a Divinity School student in 1958, the dean has been admired and scorned, painted simultaneously as a sympathetic ear and an unwavering authority figure. And although he has become something of an institution in his own right, in the past Epps often found himself at the center of controversy, mediating in scores of conflicts in the past three decades.

Staring Down Jim Crow

Archie Calvin Epps III was born in 1937 in Lake Charles, La. His parents owned a laundry, Epps' Cleaners, and were prominent members of the local black community.

But their successes could not shield him fully from the discrimination endemic to the South in the 1930s.

"As a young Southerner you had to face this," Epps says. "I was always getting escorted off the bus because I wouldn't sit in the right place."

In 1958, Epps enrolled at the Harvard Divinity School, where he developed a particular interest in Islam. Epps says studying the Islamic tradition--especially the writings of Malcolm X, the one-time leader of the Nation of Islam--led him to a greater consciousness of racial issues in the years to come. In 1967, Epps edited a book of Malcolm X's speeches at Harvard.

"I had no idea there were black Muslims in the United States," Epps says. "I became aware that there was another reality represented among black Americans."

Two years after his graduation from the Divinity School, Epps applied for a job at the University's career office but says he was rejected when an officer told him that white students would not take advice from a black man. When he told former Dean of the College John U. Munro that he had been turned down, Munro promptly offered him a job in his own office as Assistant Dean of the College, a post Epps assumed in 1963.

The Administration's Man?

While race relations at the College later became an integral part of Epps' office, his first official duties were apolitical. He was charged with researching the College's requirement that students learn to swim.

Epps says he was careful to take a studiously neutral approach to race, one he now views as overly cautious.

"I'm sure I was seen as not partisan enough for black activists, and I wasn't partisan," he says. "[Later] I decided I really had been too conservative on questions of race--I had thought it didn't matter."

This attitude wasn't surprising in the early 1960s considering black students and administrators at Harvard had few resources and a fragile sense of community, says Peter J. Gomes, a close friend of Epps for more than 30 years.

"There wasn't a critical mass of black students to form any sort of alternative culture or identity," says Gomes, who is Plummer professor of Christian morals and minister in the Memorial Church. "Few of us could be described as race-conscious."

During the tumultuous '60s, Gomes says, many students perceived Epps as "the administration's man," siding with the University rather than with students making radical political demands.

The most celebrated example of his loyalty to the administration took place on April 9, 1969. Three days after Epps married Valerie Claire Thompkins, University Hall was occupied by students protesting ROTC's connection to Harvard and the destruction of black residents' homes in Roxbury for Medical School construction.

Demonstrators removed Epps from the building by force. The Crimson reported that he was "bodily thrown out the door" while telling the students repeatedly, "You are responsible for what you are doing." A photograph of the struggling Epps was published in The New York Times.

Epps says while the students' aims might have been laudable, he still frowns on their actions.

"It's not the goal you want but the method you use," he says.

Gomes says Epps still recalls the incident in no small detail.

"All is forgiven...but all is not forgotten," Gomes says.

The Peacemaker

The crisis of 1969 underscored the need in University Hall for someone who could bridge the widening gulf between disaffected students and disconcerted administrators. When his predecessor resigned under pressure in 1970, Epps was appointed Dean of Students.

"Archie was a known quantity," Gomes says. "He was not some obscure person propelled into the limelight...It didn't hurt that he was black, and it didn't hurt that he had an establishmentarian point of view."

Epps is credited with serving as a mediator between divergent groups through the decade that followed, brokering deals with endless patience.

"He was an interpreter of students to all of us," says Derek C. Bok, president of the University during the 1970s and '80s.

Epps says his influence on the College derives from the struggles he helped resolve.

"I've been at the points of conflict," Epps said. "[My role is] to be the person in the middle."

Opportunities for mediation were plentiful in the 1970s as student concerns manifested in protests and building takeovers.

Bok cites Epps' role in defusing tensions in 1972, when students seized the president's office to protest Harvard's ties to the Gulf Oil Company, which operated a refinery in what was then the Portuguese colony of Angola.

"Especially during times of student unrest there was constant interaction between our office and Archie," Bok says.

On diversity questions, Epps increasingly became the College's point man, a role that was formalized in 1980 when Bok asked Epps to take responsibility for race relations on campus.

"The poor man has probably had to go to every sort of committee the College has," says Loker Professor of English Robert J. Kiely, master of Adams House and a friend of Epps since the early 1960s.

Epps helped smooth over tensions between The Crimson and the Black Students Association (BSA) in the early '80s, when the paper was sued by four black students after publishing a racially offensive illustration.

He also chaired the committee that dealt with the thorny question of a Third World Center in the late '70s. Campus minority leaders had demanded a student center for multicultural pursuits, but the University was anxious to avoid racial divisions.

In 1980, the committee created the Harvard Foundation for Intercultural and Race Relations, which dispenses money to student groups to support efforts to address racial and ethnic diversity.

"[Epps] has put a structure in place that will continue to function after he leaves," says S. Allen Counter, director of the Harvard Foundation.

Fighting the Clubs

More recently, Epps has taken on a different challenge, emerging as one of the most vocal critics of final clubs.

Although Epps helped coordinate the clubs' annual punch season for years, in the early 1980s he became increasingly concerned with their refusal to admit women and what he perceived as irresponsibility regarding alcohol.

"I think I've concluded that there really is no meeting of the minds between the College and the final clubs," Epps says. "There is a fundamental difference."

The split became official in December 1984, when the College severed all ties with the clubs. Since then Epps has spearheaded the College's assault against the clubs--somewhat ironically, since his son, Josiah T. Epps '98, was head of the punch for the A.D. Club as an undergraduate.

Epps' relationship with the clubs remains "strained," says Douglas W. Sears '69, executive director of the Graduate Interclub Council. "He has...reminded us over time that we are not welcome to pursue our business on Harvard property."

But Sears says Epps is nevertheless "a very empathetic and fair human being, purely on a personal basis."

Recently Epps also instituted the system of race relations tutors in the Houses, designating specific tutors to assist stu- dents in dealing with racial and ethnicproblems.

Critics of the system say it fails bycompartmentalizing the problem. And some havecharged that Epps' own role is similar to that ofthe race relations tutors--by being officially incharge of racial issues, they say he has givenwhite administrators the freedom to ignore thosequestions. Others say he has helped put a diverseface on unpopular policy decisions over which hehas had little control. A 1992 Boston Globeprofile noted "skepticism" about his racerelations efforts.

Gomes agrees that the administration may haveused Epps to quell demands for diversity but saysthe dean was never a pawn.

"Do I think the University used Archie? I sayyes, of course they did," he said. "But he wouldpermit that only as long as those uses could besubjugated to his own vision...It was a doublegame."

The Dean and the Man

Some students who assailed Epps' authenticityas undergraduates have come to see him as an allyover time.

Zaheer R. Ali '94 was the president of the BSAin 1992 when the group issued an invitation toLeonard Jeffries, a professor at City Universityof New York, who many students alleged was ananti-Semite.

At the time Ali charged that Harvard made Eppsresponsible for racial issues "to keep thestudents in check."

But he says he has come to see Epps as moregenerous and personally committed.

"I began to draw a distinction between theoffice of the Dean of Students and Archie Epps asa person," Ali says.

Ali remembers a meeting with Epps at which thedean asked him why the group felt it necessary tobring Jeffries to campus.

"I said, 'Weren't you involved with Malcolm X'sspeeches at Harvard?'" Ali recalls. "He looked atme and just smiled. That's when I felt we made aconnection. As Dean of Students he had to questionour motives...But as Archie Epps, he understood."

The Dean of Students and Archie Epps can be twovery different people. As an administrator, Eppsis an authority figure, separated from students bya title and a desk. But in person, Epps has builtwarm, concerned relationships with decades ofundergraduates.

"Because students perceive him to befair-minded, he has established a relationship oftrust," says Lamont Professor of Divinity Paul D.Hanson, who is also master of Winthrop House.

Epps sang with the Harvard Glee Club during the1950s and '60s, and continues to join the groupduring the group's football concerts.

As dean, he brought Harvard's choruses underone umbrella. Peabody Professor of Music emeritusElliot Forbes says Epps was instrumental insecuring Holden Chapel as a headquarters forchoral groups.

Along with his musical pursuits, Epps also hasa passion for Harvard history. He says hesometimes passes long hours walking in cemeteries,spotting the graves of the University'spresidents.

In 1986, Epps was a driving force behind thecommemoration of Harvard's 350th anniversary.Ignoring the skepticism of The Crimson and others,he organized an outdoor anniversary ball thatattracted 4,500 students, two-thirds of theCollege's population.

It is that love of Harvard and its historywhich Gomes says will be missed the most.

"I think Dean Epps represents...aprebureaucratic vision of what Harvard College canbe," Gomes says. "It's very difficult to constructsuch a world any longer... That quality is thething I worry most will be lost. They candefinitely get someone to make the trains run ontime--but the notion of where the trains run toand from is in danger."

--Carmen J. Iglesias and Susie Y. Huangcontributed to the reporting of this article.