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'Doing What He Loved, In a Place He Loved'
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On the Harkness Frontier
Hammy's faculty appointment coincided with a local economic boom brought about by the implementation of the Harkness Plan, Edward Harkness's gift to the Academy that was announced in November of 1930. The school to which Hammy returned was quite different from the one he had left behind four years earlier. New dorms brought all of the students onto campus, and brought the faculty into the dorms with them. Now, as Hammy later put it, the students sat face-to-face with their teachers at the table, instead of ready to "receive the thunderbolts that were cast upon them." Hammy characterized the sweeping and radical changes at Exeter as follows: "We went from control, to communication; from instruction, to teaching; from facts, to ideas; from schooling, to education; from answers, to questions; from recitation, to discussion; from intellect, to imagination." Hammy was on the Harkness frontier, and he embraced it.
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| Able as he was at selling Exeter, Hammy's real genius lay in following
"his boys" throughout their time at the Academy-serving as an honest counselor, a demanding coach,
a sincere friend and a versatile provider of warm clothing (often from his own closet), tickets
home in an emergency, athletic equipment, prom clothes and job connections. |
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'Ving' and Uncle Hammy:
Among the lives Hammy Bissell touched was that of his nephew, novelist John Irving '61.
Uncle Hammy and I had a warm and respectful relationship-beginning with a disagreement between us. Hammy liked nicknames; I believe he had one for everyone. I dislike nicknames to the extent that I named my three sons in such a way that no one (I thought) could make nicknames of their names. I was wrong; Hammy could, and did-as he found, early on, a most original nickname for me.
As a boy, I was called Johnny, which was tolerable-friends from my days at the Academy still call me Johnny, which I don't really mind. I was also called Irv, which I disliked, although there are a handful of Exeter friends who still call me Irv. (Because I am especially fond of these friends, I don't mind.)
But Hammy was satisfied with neither nickname-they were too ordinary. He called me Ving. And because this was Hammy's name for me, I didn't mind. I signed my letters to him "Ving."
My children, whom I thought unnicknamable, are named Colin, Brendan and Everett. To Hammy they were instantly Col, Bren, and Ev. Col never worked for me, but Hammy was so influential that I occasionally call Brendan Bren and Everett Ev-to this day.
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| Hammy Bissell had a warm relationship with his nephew, novelist John Irving '61, whose mother was Sally Bissell's younger sister. Here, the
families gather to celebrate Thanksgiving in 1950: (front row, left to right) Curtis Kennett '60, Bayard Kennett '62, Nancy Bissell, John Irving '61;
(second row) Mary Winslow Kennett, Julie Kennett (on her mother's lap), Frances Winslow Irving, Helen Winslow, Sally Winslow Bissell, Jack Bissell '58; (back row), Robert Kennett, Colin Irving '41, Hammy Bissell '29. |
I keep running into people who tell me how much they loved Hammy; if there's a theme to these conversations with total strangers, it's that Hammy saved them-usually at some point in their Exeter lives when they were about to quit or had failed.
I count myself among them. I wasn't happy to stay at Exeter a fifth year, to not graduate with my class, to repeat Math III for the second time, to take three years of Spanish because I'd failed Latin II twice. At the time, I viewed being captain of the wrestling team as a dubious consolation prize. I was wrong; my fifth year at PEA was my happiest and most successful. "Look, Ving," Hammy said, "you're just a late-bloomer. You're a hard worker, but you have to be patient." He was right.
-John Irving '61 |
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He was first a dorm master in Dunbar Hall, living in the attic. After he married, Hammy and his growing family lived in Soule, Peabody and Bancroft halls before moving, in 1946, to Beaton House on Faculty Circle (now the site of Main Street and Ewald dorms). Hammy had first met Sally Winslow during his student years at the Academy, and they became reacquainted when Hammy began teaching. They were married in 1938. Their children, John (PEA '58) and Nancy, were born in 1940 and 1942. Sam Willson '46 recalls one of Hammy's techniques for maintaining order in the dorm: "My upper year, my room was right across the hall from [the Bissells'] apartment. When the ruckus in our room became especially thunderous, Hammy would suddenly and rather frighteningly slam open the door, yell 'Relax!' and then slam the door."
Hammy also did some yelling in his capacity as the varsity crew coach from 1936 until 1948. In a 1999 reminiscence about Hammy, Guido Rahr '47, an accomplished rower at the Academy, writes: "To this very day, I have 'nightmares' of his bellowing at me through the megaphone, for never did such a small body emanate such a loud voice!" Even when he was no longer coaching, Hammy continued to introduce boys to his beloved sport.
Hammy's smile more than compensated for any intimidation he imposed. Guido Rahr tells the following story: "My first exposure [to Hammy] was sitting in study hall at Exeter as a somewhat bewildered, insecure freshman, wondering how I was ever going to catch up and make it though the first year. Hammy happened to be supervising that room at that particular time, and he looked at me and gave me a smile that I will remember to the end of my days. Once Hammy smiled at you, you simply didn't forget it."
Changing Young Men's Lives
The potential in that smile was not lost on Exeter's administration. In 1946 Hammy became the first director of scholarships, a position created by Principal Perry the year before he retired. Perry's successor, William Saltonstall '24, was a close friend of Hammy's and well understood how Hammy's personality and talents might realize a vision for Exeter as a national high school. "Hammy had a great memory, and a great affection for people, especially people who needed help and worked hard," says Robert Bates. He was also a superb judge of people's potential. Hammy's recall for names, faces and details, his outgoing nature and his humility were all essential to his work of spreading the word about Exeter across the country. He would travel approximately half of the school year in two- to three-week stints, usually by train.
Hammy's efforts to identify boys who were "long on brains and short on cash," and his strategy of networking to find "the men and women behind the boys" (through such innovative contacts as newspaper circulation managers, librarians and labor leaders) has been well documented. Paul R. ("Rick") Mahoney '61, '74, '95 (Hon.), PEA's current director of financial aid and a former scholarship boy, believes that Exeter remains unique in the scope of its outreach to talented youth. "Hammy was in sales," he says, "and he was selling opportunity." Adds James W. Griswold '31(Hon.), former treasurer of the Academy and chair of the Scholarship Committee during the 1950s and 1960s: "He was selling people something they didn't know they wanted."
To many scholarship boys, Exeter was a world they could never have imagined. Ned Rankin '59, a former paper carrier from Cleveland, recalls, "I got straight A's that spring in public high school (not such a bad one, either) and failed every placement exam that Exeter sent out." Hammy, he says "was like a god (though a small and puckish one), with the power to pluck me out of one orbit and spin me into another one. He changed my life more than any other person ever has or will." (Rankin's four children all went on to attend the Academy, and his daughter Ann '92 is now a biology teacher at PEA.)
Sometimes opportunity had to knock twice to be heard, as was the case with Byron Rose '59, a former newsboy from Evansville, IN, who is now president of the Academy's Trustees. Rose had decided to turn down a scholarship to Exeter in order to stay home, where he was doing well in a good public school and looking forward to a basketball career. He said as much to Hammy over the telephone. But Hammy came to see him anyway, and after 45 minutes with him, Rose had decided to give Exeter a try. Rose says that, "with the exception of my parents, no one else had such an impact on my life." When he was elected president of the Trustees, Hammy was enormously proud.
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'He Never Forgot a Boy'
I don't think Hammy ever forgot a boy he taught, or coached, or helped to discover Exeter. Nor did he forget that boy's mother and father, and where they lived, or how the youngster arrived at the Academy the first time. He was gifted in the matter of recollection, but somehow I feel the dimension of the gift had a lot to do with how much he cared-about the boy and about Exeter.
I had the good fortune to be one of those boys. In 1957 [when I first met Hammy], I was underachieving at Nashua Junior High School, and playing games wherever and whenever a ball could be produced. Hammy shepherded me and my parents through the application process and into the Exeter family. I take pride now in the leap of faith I made then in coming to this school that was at first so foreign to everything I knew. I marvel, however, at the even greater faith that Hammy and Exeter had in me. And here I joined others from West Hickory, PA, and Beloit, WI, and Garner, Iowa and Greenville, SC, in whose lives the heart and hand of Hammy Bissell had appeared. A life changed? You bet!
Hammy spent most of his life doing what he loved to do in a place he loved. Oh, there were bumps along the way, some of which required great courage and character and love to overcome, but overcome they were, and Hammy lived most days so satisfied that, in his words, "I couldn't be happier if I were twins." (And doesn't the mind spin at that possibility!) Hammy's life and career spanned the greatest events of the modern Exeter. He knew more Exonians, perhaps, than anyone in school history, and he remembered more about them.
Huc venire pueri ut viri sitis is the original inscription over the main door of the Academy Building: "Enter here boys that you may become men." Hammy was quick to say what a small, lonely, unprepared boy he had been when he passed through that doorway for the first time. But the passage he took led not just to manhood, but to a lifetime of loyalty, generosity and kindness and of service to the ones he loved best: his own family and the Academy family. In Hammy's case, the inscription might well have read: "Enter here young man that you may become Mr. Exeter." Rest in peace, Mr. Exeter.
-Paul R. "Rick" Mahoney '61, '74, '95 (Hon.)
Excerpted from a eulogy delivered at a memorial service for
H. Hamilton Bissell '29, held at the Exeter Congregational Church on December 8, 2000.
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| Reunions, recalls one friend, were a "particularly exhilarating" time for
Hammy, who served as the Academy's alumni secretary from 1963 to 1972. In 1949, he and Sally hosted
a 20th reunion party in their backyard for the class of 1929. |
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