Deceased July 7, 1992
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In Memory
Ted Clarke died at home in Peterborough, N.H., July 7 from alcoholism. He was 44. A small memorial service was held in Boston.
Ted grew up in Newton, Mass., and like his father, headed to Amherst for college. The College was a special place to Ted. He had great fondness for Amherst friends, although he may have had sporadic contact with them after graduation. If he could help it, Ted did not miss reunions. And, when possible, he liked to return for a football game.
Following graduation, Ted spent a year in Boston working in regional planning. He then took off for a year on a Watson Fellowship. He lived in London, teaching himself photography, and then headed overland through north, then east and southern Africa. Ted was fortunate enough to receive a fellowship for a second year. He used it to spend more time in London, working in the darkroom, and then traveled in west and central Africa. Throughout his journeys he recorded the worlds he saw on film and developed an abiding interest in international affair and appetite for travel.
Ted returned to Washington, D.C., in 1972 to get his master’s in international relations at Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies. He worked a brief period as a legislative assistant in the U.S. House of Representatives before moving in 1975 to New York.
There Ted started his career in banking. He joined Bakers Trust and worked in the international division, syndicating loans. In 1977 Ted and I married. Shortly afterwards, Ted’s job took us to London. He traveled frequently in those years to Africa, the Middle East and Europe. Ted enjoyed his work, life in London, spending time in the pastoral countryside and visits from friends—among them Guy Bramble ’69.
In 1983 Bankers Trust transferred Ted back to New York. In 1984 he accepted a position at State Street Bank, and we moved to Boston where life was going well until early 1988 when Ted was laid off. From the point until his death, Ted unraveled as he battled severe depression and old emotional demons with the scotch which would eventually and brutally destroy him.
In the years after his father’s suicide, Ted found a measure of help from counseling and psychiatry. But in his final years, Ted eschewed all forms of help, despite the best efforts of friends. Ted’s death is tragic, not just because it was premature but also because it was self-destructive. The tragedy for his friends was that while we witnessed him being devoured, we were powerless to stop it. When it came, death released Ted from spiritual and bad physical pain.
One friend described Ted as a “strong flavor.” He was an intense mix of characteristics both endearing and at times frustrating. But those who knew him well loved him for his wit, intelligence and charm as well as an often hidden gentleness and concern which he always showed to friends in difficulty or pain. Ted loved fun but yearned for an inner peace which was illusory. Sadly, he was unable to let go of his own past pain. His friends mourn Ted’s loss and warmly remember his “strong flavor.”
Gerry Smolka