York Phelps
York was a gift to the world:
a gift to me as an early engaging student in my classes,
as the totally-involved father of an advisee,
as a friend,
York's soft-spoken poise and gentle humor
belied how hard he had to work in this challenging world,
most institutions did not draw him to them,
though Carolina Friends School did,
for its sense of rightness paralleled his own,
he worked hard on relationships,
he worked hard on taking his calling with sound systems
to surround him and others with the music they lived,
yet also to generate income for him,
his work on movies thrilled him even more:
he helped find the right locations to tell the story
of The Last of the Mohicans,
and worked on the right lighting
for Tequila Sunrise, Bull Durham, and The Handmaid's Tale,
his children centered him,
those three extraordinary young people
who know the world needs changing
and are working hard to do their part in that positive changing,
York so like both of his parents:
the unflappable bemusement of his father Jake,
the infectious bubbling forth of his mother, Peggy,
she who advised me to wait till my children were 20,
for that which you thought was not taking in your parenting,
takes hold,
my wife Joan gave York his first job at age 15,
as he helped her wrangle pre-schoolers,
I remember that being with him in his car on advisee trips to the Smokies,
was sought after by my advisees,
York has left us, and we are lesser for that loss,
what I remember and celebrate about him:
there was a deep sense of rightness about York,
a sureness to how he knew and expressed himself,
despite all the doubts and worries that could beset him,
when I call up a memory of him right now,
a smile involuntarily transforms his face, his eyes twinkle,
and he holds me in the warm sureness of his self,
he finds the world charming, so it is,
and his loving joy holds it all together.
by Henry H. Walker,
with love, 7/28/24
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