By Marty Snapp
Dear friends, I know you dread having to read more obits, and I dread writing them. But at our age it goes with the territory. And, as Randy Alfred reminds me, the best thing we can do for those who have gone before us is speak their names and keep their memories alive.
In this spirit, we have lost two more classmates who will be sorely missed: Al Allston and Chris Dunleavy. Al died last April from leukemia, 24 years after he was told he had less than a year to live. But he had other ideas and went on to not only live more than two decades but also enjoy everything life had to offer.
After graduating from Yale he got his J.D. from Duke and embarked on a career of fighting for civil rights, community development and economic empowerment. He was assistant director of the South Carolina Council on Human Relations, playing an integral role in fostering better living and social conditions for African Americans and promoting racial harmony in the state. As director of the Foundation for Community Development in North Carolina, he led efforts to enhance infrastructure, housing, economic development and the distribution of wealth in the African-American community.
While living in Durham, Al met the love of his life, Lynette Lewis. “We just clicked,” she says. They married less than a year later and moved to Columbia, SC, where Al began practicing law as a trial attorney specializing in products liability. He became a partner at one of the nation’s largest plaintiffs’ litigation firms, Ness, Motley, Loadholt, Richardson & Poole.
When he got his leukemia diagnosis in 2000 he decided to retire from the law, which he dearly loved, and focus on the only thing he loved more, his family. He and Lynette moved to her hometown in Drewryville, VA and lived on the family farm originally owned by her grandparents. Trading in his well-tailored suits for ostrich boots, he embraced the slower pace, loving the serenity of rural life and enjoying pushing dirt around on one of his favorite toys, his John Deere tractor.
He also assumed his new position as assistant and on-call driver for Lynette as she traversed the state in her capacity as Chief of the Nottoway Indian Tribe of Virginia. Al became an associate member of the tribe and served as its corporate counsel.
He stayed connected with his friends and former colleagues through his avid use of Facebook, providing unfiltered political and social commentary – he was never one to hold back his opinions – and expressing his passion for history and his love for his family.
He enjoyed music, especially jazz and blues, and never passed up an opportunity to dance with Lynette. He loved spending time with his grandchildren and took pride in watching them grow. He will be remembered for many things; but above all, it is his enduring love and dedication to his family that will be cherished the most.
Chris passed away on June 21, 2022 after a long struggle with COPD, with his daughters, Sarah and Casey, by his side. After Yale he joined the Navy and served aboard the USS Boston, spending two tours of duty in the Vietnam war before coming home and devoting his career to public affairs.
“Chris and I were friends since 1961, when we received scholarships to Camp Rising Sun, a summer leadership/educational program in Rhinebeck, New York for 15-and-16-year-old boys selected from around the world,” says Rick Luis. “He came from Newburgh, NY, and I represented Minnesota. Chris enjoyed the Camp’s activities and was known for his intelligence and quick wit. He believed deeply in conservative politics and was ever ready to debate anyone who did not share his views. He loaned me a copy of Barry Goldwater’s book Conscience of a Conservative, which influenced me to lean to the right in my own political thinking.”
“Chris was one of the first people I met at Yale,” says Tom Gottshall, who roomed with him during freshman, sophomore and junior year. “He was always interested in politics and was a big fan of Bill Buckley. He worked in the public sphere all his life, much of the time in the affairs of Orange County, NY, and used the term ‘Hegelian’ when I thought was a geographical description.
“He declined to join me and our other roommates in subscribing to the New York Times, so we compromised on the Herald Tribune – which then collapsed, resulting in the loss of our subscription. At a Political Union meeting at which he spoke he told me, ‘You read Time magazine like the rest of us; why don’t you say something?’ Probably the best advice I had at Yale.
“I kept in contact with him over the years, occasionally having lunch, but sadly there were too few opportunities for personal meetings. He was very proud of his two daughters.”
Finally, as I suspected, it turns out that Bill Brewster and Howard Dale aren’t our only classmates descended from the Pilgrims. So are Jeff Fuller, who is descended from William Fuller; Brad Jonasson, who is descended from William Bradford, the first governor of Plymouth Colony; Jay Causey, who, like Howard, is descended from Richard Warren as well as that fun couple, John Alden and Priscilla Mullins; and Bill Mace, who is not only descended from both William Brewster (aka Elder William) and Stephen Hopkins, he can claim another historic ancestor: his great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, Sarah Osborn, who was put on trial for witchcraft and died in prison. Among her accusers was Thomas Putnam, one of Bill’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfathers.
And Hank Galpin is descended from a guy who famously didn’t make the trip: Rev. John Robinson, who was slated to be the Pilgrims’ spiritual leader when they got to the New World. But he was on the other boat, the Fortune, which sprang a leak and was forced to turn back, leaving the Mayflower to sail on alone, and Elder William had to step in for him.