Foreword
I recall noticing, at some point during our law school days, a group of alumni who had returned to Cambridge to celebrate their 50th reunion. I thought they were unfathomably ancient. The math was straightforward; they had graduated in 1925! They grew up when cars and telephones were still novelties. When they were in law school Coolidge was President and it was illegal to buy a drink. Some were World War I veterans, and many staffed FDR’s New Deal Agencies. They were well into middle-age when the atomic bombs ended the second world war and were mostly retired by the time of the moon landing.
We are now them. To the Gen Z students currently sitting in the classrooms in Langdell and Austin, Gerald Ford is what Coolidge was to us. (Perhaps some irony there given their comparable levels of charisma) Almost all we have lived through is thoroughly alien to them. Thus, it has always been and thus it will always be. As one witty author put it, “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”
So, ancient as we are at 50 years from law school graduation, it is time for us to take stock. What have we done with the last five decades? This little book is a very small window into that past. Browse though and discover who did what, and how they are rewarding themselves now that the work is (mostly) done.
But skimming it can be more than an occasion for voyeurism; it is also a good moment for reflection. Did your career bring you fulfillment? Did it make you happy? Did it change the world? For better or for worse? If you could change some things, what would they be? Perhaps a psychiatrist would tell us that it is not helpful to ask such questions, because the past is past. But we remain parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, and mentors and friends, and those reflections may inform what we should tell those filling our shoes. They will work in a new and different world, but the lessons we have learned might make them better lawyers, better citizens and better human beings. Share them, but softly.
I do not know if these little Red Books are compiled after 50th anniversaries. I suspect not; they might begin to get depressingly slim. So I will take this occasion to note that it has been my privilege to pen these introductions at 5-year intervals. I did not know that it was part of the job description of “Class Secretary” when I ran for that prestigious post in 1976, but it has given me a rather unique opportunity to share random thoughts with a very accomplished group of peers. If any of you have actually read these words, I thank you for that. Thanks also to the folks in the Alumni Office for their efforts in putting this book together.
May you all have many more years of good health, stimulating experiences, and quiet moments of joy. And if you go to the reunion, try not to baffle the current students with talk of VHS tapes, pay phones or Watergate.
Roger Schechter
Class Secretary
Harvard Law School Class of 1976
In Memoriam
We pay tribute and hold dear the memories of our classmates who have passed away. Although they are no longer with us, their enduring presence will forever hold a cherished place in our hearts and within the Harvard Law School community.
Records of the Class
Click the button below to view your password-protected class records – a collection of your classmates’ contact information and their stories – about life, career, family, hobbies, and more.
Please note: Passwords are case-sensitive. Also, this PDF is designed for reading only and cannot be printed.
Class Photo Album
Class Remembrances
Charles “Chuck” G. Cole
Lawrence DeMille-Wagman remembers:
I met Chuck in junior high. The first oral presentation assigned by our ninth grade English teacher was to interview a classmate and then “introduce” him to the rest of the class. I was assigned to interview Chuck. I asked him a number of questions and my last question was whether he had any hobbies. Chuck said he had only one: homework. What a nerdy answer! But Chuck was the polar opposite of nerdy. Even in ninth grade, he was gracious, friendly, socially adept, a good conversationalist, interested in many subjects. And most important, he was a good listener. Far from being nerdy, he was a renaissance man and a star of our class, both in junior high and at HLS.
Stephen J. Ellmann
Frank Andrews remembers:
Right from the start there was something eminently likable about Steve, his quiet, unassuming, laidback intellect, and his multiple layers of tattered sweaters with overlapping holes. I lined up an Alaska 1L clerkship; he hadn’t found his summer yet. Whether I recruited Stephen or the law firm, or perhaps a bit of both, by spring he was doing something as outside his New York City/HLS mold as heading off to the far north to share an Anchorage apartment for the summer.
Interesting times: Together with 2L Larry Dinger, we spent a hard-charging long weekend to add our signatures to the list stored in the Chugach Range Round Top cairn, followed by an insane three-person open canoe trip through post-deluge raging Kenai River Canyon waters, only swamping and dumping a hundred times. The US mail brought his Law Review letter. Come 2:30 am summer solstice, we played baseball with zero artificial light and no fear of being beaned by an unseen line drive. Independence Day was spent in the Katmai alongside dozens of grizzlies gorging themselves comatose on the salmon run while we sat on the bank not fifty feet away. On our Resurrection Trail trek across the Kenai Peninsula in the middle of bear country after we had encountered a campsite bear that evening, we had our screaming argument about whether he was bringing his cooking-grease wool gloves into our tent for the night. Come end of summer: “Frank, most interesting summer ever!”
Steven Knowles
Richard Foltin remembers:
He was a good friend during our HLS years. I enjoyed his sense of humor and keen insights, and we both liked music. I had the pleasure of introducing Steve to Bruce Springsteen at a time when Bruce was still “Bruce who?” After Steve joined me at a Springsteen concert, I remember him saying to me “Now I understand what you have been raving about.” I only saw Steve once after we graduated—we met for dinner when I was in Los Angeles. I always meant to get in touch again, but you know how it is, we are all very busy…
Michael H. Skelton
Frank Andrews remembers:
Mike was Texan through and through. I remember a string of conversations about whet we would each spend our upcoming 1L summer doing. He had enrolled at UT Law School to take some really critical courses not available to Harvard because HLS did not offer all law. The last thing I wanted to do was sit through more law school classes for the summer! It was incomprehensible to me.
I kept asking “What course is it that HLS does not teach that is so damn crucial to your career?” and kept getting the same answer. “HLS does not really teach all law.” Finally we realized that like so many of English-speaking people of the world, we can be separated by our supposedly shared language: what to my midwestern roots was “all law” to Texans was all essential “oil law.” We had a good laugh and some great beers! Mike went on to have an amazing career built on that oil important foundation indeed.
John T. Schmidt
Bruce Bolander remembers:
Even after 50 years I cannot see or hear anything about John’s beloved Pittsburgh Steelers without thinking about him and the games we watched together, including the Steelers’ first Super Bowl victory when they beat my beloved Minnesota Vikings during our 2L year. He will be missed.
Marc Dorfman remembers:
John was a terrific moot court partner and a great friend during law school and the following years. May his memory be a blessing for his family.
Robert “Bob” Weber
Ruth Lowry remembers:
Bob exemplified the best of every quality that we hope to see in others: kind, funny, smart, generous. I met him at the very beginning of our first year. He guided my integration into American post-graduate life with humor and grace. Being from LA, he experienced almost as much cultural dissonance as I did in Cambridge. We remained friends after graduation and I will miss him very much.
Donald H. Wilson III
Benjamin Dowling-Sendor remembers:
I particularly remember Don’s friendship and enthusiasm amid the challenges of life as 1Ls.