ARCHIE C. EPPS

Archie C. Epps III, who served for 28 years as Harvard’s last dean of students, died on Aug. 21, of complications from heart surgery. He was 66.

Colleagues remember Epps as an advocate for improving student life, a dean who was unafraid to stand alone in policy debates and a central figure in improving race relations at the College.

During his tenure as dean of students, which spanned from 1971 until 1999, Epps presided over a host of changes concerning student life: Final clubs lost official College recognition, the Undergraduate Council was instituted, the first-year dining hall was moved from the Freshman Union to Memorial Hall and Loker Commons was constructed.

Even his departure constituted a change, as former Dean of the College Harry R. Lewis ’68 dissolved the dean of students post after Epps stepped down.

As an associate dean in 1969, Epps experienced firsthand the social upheavals on campus during the tumultuous period. When University Hall was taken over by the Students for a Democratic Society, Epps resisted the takeover and was physically carried out of the building by the students.

“He guided the College with a steadying hand through turbulent seas and in calm waters, he nudged the administration with wisdom and vast experience, and he elicited true affection and respect from both the students and his colleagues in University Hall,” former Dean of the Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles said in a statement.

One of the most prominent black administrators at the College, Epps attempted to facilitate race relations on campus.

Epps edited a book, The Speeches of Malcolm X at Harvard, which was published in 1967 and reissued in 1991.

Epps’ stances, however, did not always coincide with those of black student leaders on campus. He expressed opposition to the approach of reformers who focused solely on racial matters.

Epps was unafraid to be an outspoken advocate of his policy stances, often throwing his weight behind projects opposed by Lewis and publicly disagreeing with his boss about the nature and aim of Harvard’s undergraduate education. He prided himself on independent thought.

“I come out of the tradition of the solitary dean,” Epps said.

In 1984, Epps oversaw the stripping of official College recognition from final clubs and fraternities not permitting membership from both genders, and in 1997, he issued a report that condemned the clubs.

At the same time, Epps said it was difficult “for students to meet each other” and acknowledged “a weakness in social life” that led him to push for the creation of Loker Commons.

JOHN T. DUNLOP

John T. Dunlop, a preeminent labor economist who served as U.S. secretary of labor under President Ford and as dean of the Faculty, died on Oct. 2. He was 89.

The Lamont University professor emeritus, Dunlop headed the Faculty of Arts and Sciences from 1969 to 1973.

The period was a tumultuous one, characterized by residual student unrest on the campus following the student takeover of University Hall in 1969.

“He was an absolutely pivotal figure during all the trouble in the late ’60s and early ’70s,” said Henry Rosovsky, Dunlop’s successor as dean of the Faculty. “He was one of the people who kept the University together.”

Taking the helm of the College at such a troubled time was a selfless gesture on Dunlop’s part, said former University President Derek Bok, as he was not fond of administrative duties.

“He gave up two years of his life to helping Harvard through that time,” Bok said.

In addition to the administrative role he played, Dunlop was a vitally important figure in the shaping of labor relations at Harvard.

When he represented the University in contract negotiations with the Harvard Union of Clerical and Technical Workers from 1988 to 1989, Dunlop’s efforts were endorsed by both sides.

Dunlop first came to Harvard in 1938, becoming an associate professor of economics in 1945 and a full professor in 1950.

From 1940 to 1970, Dunlop worked on nine books on industrial and labor relations as a writer, co-writer or editor.

Dunlop’s sphere of influence was not confined by the Yard’s Ivy walls. He was reputed to fly to Washington as many as 50 times a year.

He served as an economic adviser to Franklin D. Roosevelt and worked with every subsequent president through Bill Clinton.

HOWARD REID

Howard Reid, co-founder and vice president of the Harvard security guards’ union, died from complications after stomach surgery on Jan. 8 at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston. He was 37.

Colleagues remember Reid for fighting for all workers at the University.

“Howard was totally fearless when it came to confronting management over contract issues for the workers. He never hesitated to do the right thing,” said Danny Meagher, current president of the Harvard University Security, Parking and Museum Guards’ Union (HUSPMGU), which Reid established with Steve McCombe in 1995.

Reid began his job at Harvard in December 1987 and has worked 24 hours each week at the Widener gate until his death.

After serving as HUSPMGU secretary under McCombe, he became vice president last September.

Reid constantly threw himself into the midst of labor conflict, Meagher said, working assertively but graciously with all levels of Harvard labor management.

He was closely involved in September’s contract negotiations and the resulting increase in pay and benefits for Harvard’s security, museum and parking guards—both within HUSPMGU and without.

Harvard University Police Department (HUPD) Chief Francis D. “Bud” Riley said Reid was a person of “integrity and honesty.”

While at Harvard, Reid loved to learn. He took classes in management, working toward a degree at the Division for Continuing Education.

JOHN V. KELLEHER

John V. Kelleher, a vivid storyteller whose work defined the field of Irish studies in America, died Jan. 1 of pneumonia. He was 87.

Kelleher, an emeritus professor of Irish studies in the Department of Celtic Languages and Literatures, first came to Harvard in 1940.

One of the world’s foremost Irish scholars, he specialized in modern Irish literature and the history of the early Irish annals, a project the fluent Irish speaker once said would take him “25 lifetimes” to complete.

Kelleher came to Harvard in 1939 as a member of the Society of Fellows, and during World War II served briefly in the Pentagon.

But it was on a bicycle trip through Ireland after the war that he forged friendships with some of the great modern Irish writers, including Frank O’Connor and Seán Ó Faoláin.

From 1947 to 1986, Kelleher was a professor in the English and history departments as well as the Department of Celtic Literature and Languages.

Colleagues remember Kelleher as a “giant in the field” who informed a generation of other Irish scholars.

“Just about everyone working in the field of Celtic studies—and especially in Irish studies—was either a student of his or was greatly influenced by his work,” said Robinson Professor of Celtic Languages and Literatures Patrick K. Ford.

ANTHONY FONSECA '04-'05

Anthony Fonseca ’04-’05 died in an apparent suicide in Winthrop House on Feb. 22.

Fonseca, an economics concentrator from Lawton, Okla., known to friends as “Deuce,” is remembered for his passion for filmmaking and his skills as a deejay.

Friends said they were shocked by the apparent suicide and said Fonseca had not been acting unusually in the time preceding his death.

Fonseca was active in Harvard-Radcliffe Television (HRTV), serving as vice president of the executive board and as a director of HRTV’s soap opera, “Ivory Tower.”

HRTV President Debra T. Mao ’05 said the news of Fonseca’s death came as “a shock.”

“None of us thought he was troubled,” Mao said. “In general, he wasn’t a depressed person.”

Mao said she would miss Fonseca’s “devil-may-care presence and good-natured dedication” and called him “a very talented filmmaker.”

Friends described Fonseca as easygoing and friendly, and several remembered his witty, sarcastic sense of humor.

Lisa H. Feigenbaum ’04, who went to several formals with Fonseca, described him as “very self-confident in the way he talked about himself.”

But Feigenbaum said that at times, Fonseca could also be reserved, particularly about personal issues.

“He held a lot of stuff back, he wasn’t very open about a lot of things,” she said. “He would selectively have short responses to certain types of questions, he was sort of evasive about certain questions. He would joke things off rather than giving you a straightforward answer.”

Fonseca returned to school this fall after taking the 2002-2003 academic year off, but several friends said they did not know why he left or what he did during his time off.

“[The year off] is definitely one of the mysteries of Anthony Fonseca,” said Thomas D. O’Dell ’04-’05, who lived in the J-entryway of Winthrop with Fonseca. “A lot of us would ask him, and he wouldn’t say.”

Fonseca spent intersession in Los Angeles, Calif., participating in the Harvardwood program, where he was able to observe filmmaking firsthand and meet people who worked in the movie business.

Mao said Fonseca recounted his Harvardwood experiences during the frequent shuttle rides they shared to and from the HRTV studio in Pforzheimer House.

“On our last trip, he told me all about all the professional connections he had made,” Mao wrote in an e-mail. “He had such ambition.”

JEFFREY RON GU '00

Jeffrey Ron Gu ’00, a fun-loving champion of racial justice, died June 6 in a hiking accident in Venezuela, shortly before his 25th birthday.

He was buried in his native southern California on June 14.

Gu, who was also a Crimson editor, graduated with a degree in environmental science and public policy and held a wide variety of interests, said his close friend Ming H. Chen ’00.

“He was interested in business,” Chen said. “He’s had a couple of jobs in the private sector.”

But she also spoke of his goal of working with distressed companies and his hopes of studying the Chinese economy and working to improve it through education in finances.

In this way, he sought to combine his interests in economics and social justice, she said.

“It wasn’t just about making money,” Chen said. “He really liked economic analysis.”

Gu fought for social equality during his time at Harvard, according to Jimmy Quach ’98, another close friend. He worked in the Office of Admissions and Financial Aid for the Undergraduate Minority Recruitment Program, working to bring Asian-Americans to Harvard.

Gu was a member of the Asian-American Christian Fellowship throughout his college career and served on the group’s executive board while he was a senior.

Quach, who also roomed with Gu in Boston several years after his graduation, remembered his relentless positivity and curiosity about people.

“He brought a lot of joy to our house,” Quach remembered. “He had a lot of energy and enthusiasm...any time guests came over, he would be genuinely interested in who they were.”

FRANKLIN L. LORD

Franklin L. Ford, a former dean of the Faculty who spent nearly 40 years as a prominent member of the history department, died on Aug. 31 at a retirement home in Lexington, Mass., following complications from a stroke. He was 82.

During his tenure as dean, from 1962 to 1970, Ford navigated Harvard through tumultuous times, including the student takeover of University Hall, with his signature composure and tact.

His composure served him well when, in 1969, campus tensions reached a boiling point and student protesters took over University Hall. The last dean to leave the building during the student siege, Ford sat in his office and said: “I am prepared to remain in the building for as long as you like, to discuss things.”

Though he tended to stay out of the political fray on campus, Ford spoke out against the Vietnam war in a Commencement speech in 1967, and was one of several top American educators to pay a visit to President Johnson that year to express concern for the repercussions of the war on foreign policy, the nation and higher education.

As a professor, Ford was known for his understated style and generosity, as a mentor to many students and as a model to his colleagues. His office hours in Widener Library had a waiting list.

Friends and colleagues said Ford will be remembered as a tempering figure during contentious times at the University.

“He did what the great professors do—he was a great scholar and teacher. He was there all the time as a resource of advice and encouragement,” said Dean of the Faculty William C. Kirby, a history professor who earned his Ph.D. under Ford’s guidance.

Ford first joined the Harvard faculty in 1953 as an assistant history professor specializing in 17th-century France and modern Germany, although he quickly gained a reputation as a European historian with a broad area of expertise.

ARTHUR A. MAASS

Arthur A. Maass, a longtime Harvard government professor known for his work on the nation’s water policy, died March 26. He was 86.

Maass, the Thomson professor of government emeritus, served on the Harvard faculty for 36 years, from 1948 to 1984.

“He was the ideal academic on practical life of politics,” said Samuel Beer, the Eaton professor of the science of government emeritus. “He had the right balance and right mind.”

Maass’ first book, Muddy Waters: The Army Engineers and the Nation’s Rivers, was published in 1951 and criticized the Army Corps of Engineers for shortcomings in its management of water resources, flood control and navigation procedures and for its relationships with special interests.

Maass was also an innovator. Following the publication of Muddy Waters, he served for 10 years as director of the Harvard Water Program, which created quantitative methods for designing and planning water resource systems.

Maass served as chair of the government department from 1963 to 1967, and Beer hailed him as an exemplary leader and mediator within the department.

“He was the best department chairperson,” he said. “He could handle all the personal and ideological issues.”

Maass also wrote Area and Power, a book on federalism and local government, in 1959. His final book, Congress and the Common Good, was a 1983 analysis of how the public interest is incorporated into the procedures of Congress.

ARCHIBALD COX '34

Archibald Cox ’34, Loeb University professor emeritus at Harvard Law School (HLS) and the special prosecutor whose vigorous 1973 investigation of the Watergate scandal led to the eventual resignation of President Richard M. Nixon, died on May 29 at his home in Brooksville, Maine. He was 92.

Cox joined the HLS faculty as a visiting lecturer in 1945 and a year later became one of the youngest professors ever to receive tenure, at age 34.

In May 1973, Cox was appointed to lead the Justice Department’s investigation into charges that the Republican party had orchestrated a break-in at Democratic campaign headquarters in the Watergate Hotel in Washington, D.C.

As the special prosecutor, Cox pressured President Nixon to turn over newly discovered audiotapes of secretly recorded presidential conversations in the Oval Office. When Nixon refused, Cox persisted, subpoenaing the tapes.

They ultimately proved that the Nixon White House had been involved in a conspiracy to conceal its role in authorizing the Watergate break-in.

The content of the tapes, and the full results of Cox’s investigation, were so damaging that Nixon stepped down as president on Aug. 8, 1974.

As solicitor general under President John F. Kennedy ’40, Ames Professor of Law Philip B. Heymann said, Cox argued “more very important constitutional law cases than anyone in the second half of the 20th century.”

Cox was a skilled oral advocate, and “people would come from all over to watch him argue a case because he did it so well,” Heymann said.

After Cox was fired as the Watergate special prosecutor in 1973, he taught constitutional law at HLS.

Robert H. Mnookin ’64, who is Williston professor of law—a chair Cox once held—said of his predecessor, “I think he certainly represents the ideals that we at HLS should aspire to—gifted, public-spirited, extremely hardworking and idealistic in a pragmatic way.”

WILLIAM E. GIENAPP

William E. Gienapp, Harvard College professor and professor of history, died on Oct. 29 after a battle with cancer. He was 59.

William J. Rorabough, a professor of history at the University of Washington who attended graduate school with Gienapp, said he may have been the foremost Civil War expert of his generation.

“He had an encyclopedic mind and he absorbed historiography in an incredible way,” Rorabough said. “He absorbed the vast literature on the Civil War and out of that his contribution was to synthesize and bring it together.”

Colleagues said Gienapp’s greatest contribution to scholarship was his 1988 book, The Origins of the Republican Party, 1852-1856.

“He revived 19th-century political history by working from both a quantitative and a narrative perspective,” said Warren Professor of American History David H. Donald.

Baird Professor of History Mark A. Kishlansky praised Gienapp’s dedication to undergraduate teaching and the courses he created.

“He was a great teacher who cared about undergrads,” Kishlansky said. “He built an absolutely terrific Core course on the Civil War.”

Kishlansky said he has fond memories of attending Red Sox games with Gienapp, who also taught the popular class, History 1653, “Baseball and American Society, 1840-Present.”

Raymond C. Hohenstein II ’04-’05, who took History 1653, said Gienapp would wear a cap each day from the era they were discussing in class. “People came to hear him lecture,” he said. “The lecture hall was packed for every single class.”

GEORGE A. PLIMPTON '48

George A. Plimpton ’48, the literary critic and legendary prankster who launched his career at the Harvard Lampoon, died on Sept. 5 at his Manhattan apartment. He was 76.

From 1953 until his death, Plimpton edited the prestigious Paris Review, nurturing the nascent careers of Jack Kerouac and Phillip Roth.

But the irreverent Plimpton was best known as the author of more than two dozen books about his eclectic stints as a boxer, hockey goalie, orchestral percussionist, trapeze artist and pyrotechnic.

In one of his most notable exploits as a “participatory journalist,” Plimpton pitched part of an inning of the 1959 All-Star exhibition game, giving up a home run to Frank Thomas, but getting Willie Mays to pop up.

Despite having no formal dramatic training, Plimpton built his own Hollywood career as a self-described “prince of cameos,” first appearing on the silver screen in 1962 when he dressed up as a Bedouin and pushed his way onto the set of Lawrence of Arabia.

Plimpton also earned a temporary position with the New York Philharmonic, playing the sleigh bells, triangle, bass drum and gong.

Plimpton’s Harvard years were dominated by his involvement in the Lampoon, a semi-secret Sorrento Square social organization that used to occasionally publish a so-called humor magazine.

Plimpton “majored in Lampoon and minored in everything else,” said Robert C. Cobb ’48, a fellow member of the Lampoon. “If I had my life to live over again, I think I would have been George Plimpton.”

B. ANNA SU '00

B. Anna Su ’00, a passionate leader who headed Model Congress and CityStep during her undergraduate years, died in a drowning accident on Aug. 19 in a relative’s home in Los Angeles, Calif. She was 25.

Su was born in Taipei, Taiwan, on Aug. 17, 1978 and her parents moved the family to the United States in 1983.

Harvard friends remember Su as a campus leader.

“Anna was one of the most creative, energetic and talented people I met at Harvard,” Adam Kovacevich ’99 wrote in an e-mail. “She had ‘leader’ written all over her, and she inspired a tremendous sense of loyalty.”

After graduation, Su, who was also a Crimson editor, went on to work for the Boston Consulting Group in Washington D.C.

Last fall, she returned to Cambridge, this time attending Harvard Business School (HBS).

Allen A. Narcisse, a classmate at HBS and personal friend of Su, said she was a very sweet person, someone who would make unfriendly environments comfortable with the warmth of her personality.

“HBS is a very intimidating place,” said Narcisse. “But the place was more approachable just because Anna was there. She laughed a lot, and you felt great just being around her.”

Su was scheduled to start Harvard Law School this fall and to graduate with a double degree in 2006.

Lanhee J. Chen ’99, her fiancé, said she was very passionate about helping others in innovative ways. He said she dreamed of creating a book room in the D.C. area to offer inner city kids an after-school alternative to the streets.

The two had planned to be married on May 30, 2004.

—Compiled by Laura L. Krug.