Obituary: 4-16-2003
Contact: Kevin Clark 203-972-7619, ksclark@optonline.net
Commander Gordon E. Clark
Gordon E. Clark died of cancer on April 15, 2003 in New Canaan. He was 75 years old and was the father of Patricia C. Nietsch and Kevin J. Clark, both of New Canaan. A son, John S. Clark, of Beverly Hills, California and six grandchildren, also survive him. Mr. Clark is predeceased by his wife of 48 years, G. Kathryn Clark.
Born in Minneapolis, MN, 'Jerry', as he was known, was graduated from the Hopkins Grammar School in New Haven in 1945. He entered the military's V12 education program attending Duke University, Yale University and was graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Maryland in 1959.
In 1945, Mr. Clark entered military service with the US Navy as an aviator. During the Cold War, he piloted missions from Artic bases tracking Soviet submarines and ships, tested new air to surface underwater detection technologies and provided flight instruction. He retired from the Navy in 1967 after 22 years, having achieved the rank of Commander.
He began a second career with the Wall Street firm of Johnson & Higgins in New York specializing in marine and aviation insurance. He retired from the firm in 1989 as a Vice President and moved with his wife from Guilford, Connecticut to Daufuskie Island, South Carolina before returning to Connecticut in 1999.
An avid sailor, Mr. Clark participated in several Bermuda races as navigator. His passion for history and ship model building made him an active participant with several organizations including the National Maritime Historical Society and the Mystic Seaport.
A memorial service will be held at St. Thomas More R.C. Church, Middlesex Rd., Darien. Contributions in memory of Mr. Clark may be made to Waveny Care Center or Mystic Seaport.
We have witnessed much about fallen heroes since I last stood before you a short time ago. Today I speak for all of us who want remember a man who was in every way our hero.
My father, a prolific writer, completed only two pages of his life's history. I have inserted parts from this small treasure this morning.
Jerry loved history. A book on the Civil War still sits by his bed. The past 75 years reflect in many ways the man himself.
With the recent media access in exploring a soldier's world, it became easier to understand what life was like for my father. With imbedded reporters and life satellite technologies, in many ways, my father's own personal life mimicked history.
Not a perfect student in his youth, my father challenged himself with knowledge at every opportunity. I can think of no one better, to articulate with unfettered precision, own some knowledge of something, and if not, where to find the answer. He could write like Lincoln and deliver candor like a Rumsfeld.
The origins of expressions, nomenclatures, graphic symbols and such always were better defined around him. Sunday's New York Times crossword puzzle was nearly complete before a second cup of coffee. He gathered knowledge in many ways but from just standing back in silence and watching.
As if describing an image in Walker Evans photograph, he recalls a small country school he attended near his birthplace, Minnesota during the Great Depression.
" My classmates at Deep River were farm boys and girls in bare feet, overalls and pigtails. There were about eight of us. I had to walk about a ¼ of a mile to the school bus and I remember that the ice didn't melt from my leggings until the second hour of school".
Having moved to Connecticut from the Midwest, my father graduated from Hopkins Grammar School in New Haven as the war in Europe was concluding. Like most boys his age, he was eager to defend his country. After having signed up with the United States Navy, WWII ended and nearly did my father's time in the military. Though the armed forces were shrinking a voluntary and fortuitous lottery landed my father in flight training.
Again from his bio: " My favorite plaything was a panel with radio dials on it. To me it was an airplane that I flew with 'Lindy' and 'Amelia' ".
Fascinated with flying at an early age, my Dad was fortunate enough to disturb Amelia Earhart in a chance encounter one day to autograph a scale model he constructed of her plane. Unfortunately his cherished piece of historical memorabilia was destroyed stemming from my curiosity at age three.
You can see the glee expressed in some photo of him when he first flew. He describes how the Naval Academy cadet had trouble landing on an aircraft carrier and he accomplished it with a wide smile.
During the Cold War, his mission was surveilling Soviet submarine fleets in the Artic, providing a line of defense at the top of the world. His flying during the Cold War was also shared in the nineteen fifties as a husband and father of the three most important things in his life. My siblings and I were blessed with a vivacious, pair of guides who never thought anything mattered more than their children.
The nineteen sixties brought us a terribly confusing conflict that troubled my father deeply. His disdain for war was obvious. I can still recall his long, deep sighs and wincing grimaces when viewing front covers of Life Magazine. Thankfully he was assigned to command a Reserve Training Center in New Haven that provided Naval service as an alternative to the draft. Regardless of his personal view as a naval officer, he never wavered from duty and honor.
The period also saw a successful transition for my father. Having retired from 22 years of dedication to his country, it was now time to, as many did in the late sixties, for self-reflection. It was at this time Dad began to defeat his first disease.
Realizing self destruction was at the expense of those he loved and those who loved him, he successfully changed course steering away from the ugly finding a new horizon.
Emerging from his personal challenge was not easy. He distracted himself with a new technology. The dials and buttons from his toy were no longer a cockpit but a desk with a new thing called the personal computer. Somewhat unusual for his generation, he possessed a kind of prescience knowledge that the desktop computer was going to change the world. He had different capacity on Wall Street. Johnson & Higgins had a new " guru". This teacher with a new passion to explore. He loved this new role. Like the Times crossword, he found the answer before anyone else was quite awake.
He departed the urban crowded subways and cramped elevators to or the healthier splendor of a spot on a southern island. " I'll be happy if I never wear shoes again". Dodging a heart attack and a hurricane or two, Kay and Jerry settled but not long.
It appears that Connecticut Yankees can't stay away from home forever. They came ashore one more time. When my mother died my father had time for reflection and time to prepare for the battle he had really ever been in. He was miraculous in taking care of himself.
He never complained. He took command of his own destiny making new friends at the New Canaan Inn where, I'm told, he was highly regarded not just by his stature but he actually got the residents a weekly menu.
My father admits that his happiest day was when he attained his wings. Today we give him those wings again.