Deceased August 2, 2005

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In Memory

While riding his bicycle on the Middlebury Greenway, Ray Chrzanowski died unexpectedly in August 2005. His wife, Rose-Ann, says that his heart simply stopped, and she was assured that his passing was sudden and painless. Ray loved his bike and rode 14 miles most mornings and25 on the weekends. At his death he was in one of his favorite places on earth—a peaceful place—doing something he loved.

Ray left Amherst in his junior year and never contacted his classmates to explain why. Rose-Ann says it was because he panicked, fearing a life after graduation garbed in suit and tie, which he did not want. She reports he held a number of factory jobs in his native Naugatuck, Conn., work with grueling hours and nasty, dirty tasks. At 25, he married a former high school classmate and had a daughter, Karen. The marriage lasted 12 years. He raised his daughter on his own afterwards, until marrying Rose-Ann in 1989.

However, Ray went back to school “60 semesters later” as he termed it, completed his degree, went on to get an M.A.T., and became a teacher at 50. He was also a gifted woodworker, with a custom framing and crafts business. Rose-Ann says, “He was a lifelong learner and read constantly. He loved teaching, and although the classroom was too much for him (very shy), he was very happy as a tutor. His students adored him.” In his memory, a book fund was set up at the Naugatuck town library and a scholarship at the high school where Rose-Ann is an art teacher—to be awarded to an average student who demonstrates outstanding effort in math.

Rick Goullaud '67 remembers Ray as very gentle and always thinking—just slightly taller than the rest of us at 6 ft. 6 in. or so.  And Rose-Ann says he would reminisce about a freshman year road trip with a Dupont—or a Pierpont—or some name like that.  She says he was a devoted, loving husband and grandfather to two boys. In the 16 years of their marriage, they never spent a night apart. Clearly he was an example that learning is a lifelong endeavor and challenge—it does not stop at 22.

Colin Blair ’67