In Memoriam: Leonard Opdycke

Above: Yearbook dedication from the Class of 1964

Leonard Opdycke, Harley English teacher and Head of Middle School from 1956-1964 passed away at the age of 93 on February 3. He lived a rich life, moving on from Harley to serve as the Head of the Poughkeepsie Day School, teaching English at Rhinebeck High School, and then writing at Marist College. Leo was also known for his leadership in the field of aviation, writing a newsletter and eventually a magazine about World War I planes. He was so passionate about the subject, he even built his own WWI plane, a reproduction of the 1913 Bristol Scout. To learn more about the accomplishments of Mr. Opdycke, click here to read his obituary.

Mr. Opdycke meant a lot to his students. Here are some sentiments shared following his passing:

Sarah Snell Singal ’64: Thank you, Mr. Opdycke! For the wonderful mimeographed games and puzzles you made up to teach middle schoolers Latin roots, spelling, and vocabulary. For assigning creative writing in the style of the author we were currently reading. Most fun homework ever. For those red ink notes on our papers. Every once in awhile there would be a red “!” in the margin. Thank you for instruction, guidance, correction, kindness, and for teaching all of us for so many classes.

Bob Marafioti ’64: He was a phenomenal teacher who left a deep and permanent influence on many of us. He may have had a special relationship with the class of 1964, but I suspect he had a special relationship with most of the students he came in contact with.

In the classroom, he not only gave us a thorough understanding of the rules of grammar and an appreciation for the etymologies of words, he opened our young eyes to the complexities and beauty of the literature we read. But the most significant thing about him was his extraordinary ability to connect personally with his students: when he looked at you, he saw you, and when he listened, he heard you.

I probably shouldn’t disclose this publicly, but you know how websites sometimes require you to set up answers to “security questions” like “What was the color of your first car?” Facts you’ll never forget. Sometimes the security question is “What was the name of your favorite teacher?” and to that my answer is always “Opdycke.” One of those facts I’ll never forget.

Tom White ’65: in my Grades 7 and 8 classes, this man dramatically changed the course of my educational life. That poster over the chalkboard ever lives in my memory: “BEHOLD THE TORTOISE: he maketh no progress unless he sticketh out his neck.”

His instruction on how to think, organize thoughts, write papers marked my life, and helped make me who I am today.

Kudos to Harley for providing top shelf, superlative education.

Tom Frank ’65: Grade 8 was the last year I was at Harley. 1962. I clearly remember Mr. Opdycke, and have thought of him often. At the time I thought he was tough but fair, a great teacher that I continue to appreciate more as the years have gone by. I only wish I had taken better advantage of him both as a teacher and person. One of the people in my past I wish I had stayed in touch with.  

Margot Townsend Young ’64: Mr. O. was a tough, devoted and gifted teacher. I believe we, the little class of 1964, were very lucky to have him as a teacher. I expect he learned a lot from us as we did from him. He cared deeply about language and its elements, like punctuation and proper word order. His publication (cover below) English: How To showed that. A man who himself was educated at Exeter and Harvard devoted his life to teaching high school students. Our Harley class, a group of only 19, was so very fortunate. I personally gained a great deal as I worked on both our class “Comet,” the yearbook, and “The Harley Scribble,” our sometime literary publication. Mr. O was supportive without relaxing any writing or editing standards. I am grateful for that.

His is a powerful legacy of respect for language and the students whom he taught.

Jim Townsend ’61: I did not have a close relationship, nor was I a favored student—my lack of punctuation frustrated him. He ended his inscription in my yearbook after the period, with, “Period!”

Jim Davidson ’64: Included within this nearly 50-page compendium of the manual were all the basics which we wet-behind-the-ears students needed to know in order to survive English under the unwavering gaze of our hawk-eyed mentor. The advice was dished out in briskly inimitable Opdykeian fashion. Punctuation? See page 40: “The modern tendency is to punctuate only when necessary. Punctuation is not to be sprinkled freely, like salt, but used with care and understanding: it affects the meaning of what you write and the ease with which it is read.” Figures of speech? Page 34 warns that they should be used “carefully and sparingly, or they will become cloying or confusing—or simply silly (IF YOU HAVE A SPARK OF GENIUS, WATER IT).” Reading poetry? Page 7 comments, “A précis of a poem is difficult to make, and kills the poem…All language is metaphor to some degree, and in this sense poetry is the essence of language.”

And of course, the heart of the matter is set forth right on page 1: “The English Department believes…that you cannot learn all by yourself. You must have suitable material to work from: good books, experiments, tools, friends, teachers, experience. You are the first one to feel that you do not understand, and therefore should be the first one to question—question the books, the experiments, the tools, the friends, the teachers, and the experience. There is a good reason why it is incorrect to say, “I’ll learn ya!” You are the only one who can “learn ya.”

In short, this English Manual was Leo Opdycke through and through. It was, come to think of it, his personal version of that classic, The Elements of Style by Strunk and White. If Harley’s acorns were to graduate as mighty oaks, Leo was determined that his young saplings would learn to punctuate precisely, parse a poem pungently, opine on any subject judiciously and, all in all, say what you mean and mean what you say and be concise about it.

Those were the marching orders and we covered a lot of ground. Some of those marches I remember vividly. Quizzes on Latin roots. Was a postprandial appointment before or after lunch? On other occasions we tracked Odysseus encountering rosy-fingered dawn and the wine-dark sea. But what I remember from Grade 9 English more than anything else had nothing to do with the core curriculum. It was the theory of relativity. Yes, Einstein’s. Leo taught us the basics, explaining how time slowed down or speeded up according to your velocity relative to other planets or galaxies. Mind blowing for a Grade 9 student who lapped up science fiction! I still have my dog-eared copy of Lincoln Barnett’s The Universe and Doctor Einstein, which Leo recommended I purchase. What kind of English teacher ends up teaching you the theory of relativity?

An unforgettable one—to say what I mean and to put it concisely.

Mike Todd ’64: I have many great memories to share about Leo Opdycke, but I am going to share a scary one. It was late in my senior year or maybe early my freshman year in college and Leo, an aviator, invited me to fly with him in his Piper Cub. We were having a grand time, flying over Harley, my house, and then Leo says to me, “Hey Mike, do you want me to do a controlled stall?” I didn’t know what that was, but I said, “Sure!” So Leo pulled back the controls, reduced power, and started to climb. Then, the propeller stopped and the Cub started to descend. I was scared to death! Finally, the Cub started back up and we started to level. Thanks, Leo, for scaring one of your favorite students!

Lee Sherwood Allen McDermott ’64: When I think back to my time as a student at Harley from nursery through Grade 12, I have fond memories of most of my teachers, but the person that towered above the rest for me was Leo. Perhaps it was that I had the great fortune to have him for a total of three years Grade 8 through Upper School, but it was more than that. When you entered his room, a world of magic awaited. We worked, we laughed, we created, we imagined, we were held accountable to be the best that we could be. We all hoped that this time, we would get that always coveted Ax from Leo, the holy grail of awards only bestowed upon the best of the best. He had a picture of a turtle on the wall above the blackboard that said, “Behold the turtle, he maketh no progress unless he sticketh out his neck.” He challenged us to stick our necks out. He made learning fun and rewarding and we loved the time that we were with him. Every week we had a new list of words to memorize, many of which had Latin prefixes and suffixes. We became proficient in the English language, and learned not only how to spell and define words, but also how to put them together to make wonderful prose and entertaining stories. He helped me learn how to be a better student and how to use my talents to write both prose and poetry, which I do to this day. My plan, when I retire, is to write a book or screenplay about my experiences at Harley both as a student and a teacher, and I owe my love of the written word to Leo. We will all miss him, but his memory will always be a part of who I am.

Judy Johnstone Smith ‘65: There are not enough words to describe the positive impact Leo made on the students who were fortunate enough to have been n his class.

I believe the most succinct description of his gift was that he taught us to think, to write and to go forth and learn from the world around us. This was experienced in his class, but also outside of the schoolroom. He encouraged us to open our minds, develop our talents, and to embrace the wonder and possibilities of the world around us and beyond.

Linda Pollack Bock ’64: Leo Opdycke …. He truly changed the direction of my life. As a new Harley student I arrived in Grade 8 full of fear and trepidation. Sitting in Mr. Opdycke’s class you could not escape reading a banner over the blackboard that read the following: “Behold the tortoise… he makes no progress unless he stretches out his neck”. ….. Or something very close to that, right classmates? I began, tentatively at first, but then with increasing enthusiasm, a genuine attempt to follow that scripture(!). Mr. Opdycke nurtured that feeling in each of us. How I would strive to receive an A+ from him on every piece I wrote. This was achieved mostly by thinking outside that common box. Leo urged us to be bold, to see ideas differently, and—of course —to stretch out our necks in order to see unique ways of looking at, and embracing the world around us. 

I loved him…and still do. I will always think of Mr. Opdycke as a remarkable man and teacher who inspired me in the very best of ways. We were an incredibly fortunate class and each one of us benefited from our individual relationship with this special man. What a legacy he leaves behind. 

Rest well Leo… you did an amazing job and I am so grateful for your impact on my life.

Kathryn Weld Leahy ’65: Were Leo Opdycke’s students the last people on the planet to learn how to diagram a sentence? Along with our study of the “roots” of the English language, not to mention a broad reading syllabus (The Martian Chronicles and The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin come to mind), Mr. Opdycke gave us a rich foundation in language, writing and literature, and in good Harley tradition, lively classroom discussion — necks sticking out. His mentorship continued well after my Harley days. We were both in Poughkeepsie; I was at Vassar where I majored in English and loved my obscure courses in Anglo Saxon, Old English and the Norse Sagas; surely Leo’s influence. I babysat his little daughters and did some student teaching at Poughkeepsie Day School where he was headmaster, and then moved on and sadly, lost touch. When my son became a high school English teacher, Leo graciously sent me a copy of his book, English: How To. His legacy continues to to branch out from the strong Harley roots. I owe him a lot.

Keely Costello ’64: I started Harley in my Grade 9 year and Leo Opdycke was my English teacher. English was never my strong subject in middle school, but Mr. Opdycke made it fun and interesting!

One of his first writing assignments I recall was to read the “Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin “and then to write my own autobiography using Franklin’s writing style! A similar assignment involved e.e. cummings.

Another assignment involved the study of languages starting with the memorization of Latin and Greek roots and discussing the structure of the Lakota (Sioux) language. These assignments have fostered my interest in language and how it reflects the culture of its people.

Finally Mr. Opdycke was a true Renaissance man with his interest in airplanes. I remember after a dinner at his house, some my classmates and I visited his garage to see a vintage plane in the process of being assembled during his free time.

Linda Saunders Crowe ’64: Mr. Opdycke touched so many lives including those beyond the classroom. In the 1980’s I was corresponding with Jim Armstrong, our Harley history teacher (1959-64), about our Harley memories. He wrote, “Leo was an exciting and challenging person to be around whether you were a teenager or adult. He was an education all by himself, and we were all his students.””

He was a great English teacher, but for me his challenging approach to life is my foremost memory and gift. Surely our class of 19 remembers Mr. Opdycke assigning us The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics, by Norton Juster. I certainly never guessed this book was recommended for ages infant -12 years, because after reading the little book, our assignment was to construct a model of the fourth dimension out of toothpicks. We lost sleep and shared many phone calls over that challenge. We returned to class with shoeboxes carrying our models which we then had to explain how we had a arrived at the design based upon what we had learned from the book. This was an English class.

I believe Mr. Opdycke not only challenged those around him, but he challenged life itself. Thank you, Leo. 

Charlie Lotspeich ’64: Leo Opdycke was a role model for me. We followed a very similar early career path through college and into high school teaching. His example encouraged me to feel that it was a worthy thing to do. I missed his course, because my family went to Nigeria that year, but he certainly enriched the educational experience of my classmates. Reading these comments reminds me of my classmates’ intellectual and emotional maturity. The Harley School environment and teachers like Leo Opdycke nurtured our growth. 

I had an indirect connection later to Mr. O through his publication of magazines on early aviation. He was close to a dear departed friend of mine, a noted illustrator (and model builder) whose artistry was shaped by trauma in the WWII Battle of the Bulge. Leo’s flying reproduction of a 1913 biplane awes and inspires me as I imagine my next 3D design and printing projects.

This episode has made me reflect on the influence and importance of teachers and mentors. We like to think that we have made our own choices and met our own challenges. But teachers like Leo Opdycke, with their high expectations and gracious support, build our confidence and comfort in shaping our lives.