In Memoriam – Professor Gary Lease, University of California, Santa Cruz
This page has been created as an opportunity to contribute and share your remembrances of Professor Doctor Gary Lease, who died on January 4, after a long battle against cancer.
Professor Lease joined the UCSC faculty in 1973 and served as chair of the History of Consciousness Department from 1998 to 2004. Professor Lease was also dean of the Humanities Division from 1990 to 1995 and interim humanities dean from 2004 to 2006. Since last summer, he had filled the position of chair of UCSC's Language Program.
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posted by Humanities Division, University of California, Santa Cruz at
2:09 PM
9 Comments:
I recall Prof. Lease giving a lecture after a screening of "Bambi vs. Godzilla" in fall of 1985 at Kresge town hall. I also remember the wild pigs he provided every year for the bbq at Kresge.
I remember a formidable man who always a very fancy and distinctive set of robes at graduation. He was greatly admired and respected by his students. God Speed Professor Lease.
Sasha Mobley, Kresge 1989.
Here's a message from Corby Finney:
Remembrance: Gary Lease.
I met Gary in Munich, fall of 1962. He was residing at the Newman House in the Kaulbachstrasse and was enrolled as a doctoral candidate in Theology under the supervision of Professor Michael Schmaus. Gary was a bright and dedicated student. He flourished under Schmaus, a Teutonic taskmaster if there ever was one. Gary worked hard, got on well with all his professors in the Theology faculty, loved the Bavarians and their culture and their beer; Gary was the leading light within our circle of friends, all of us students (Diane, Barbara and Susan, the two Johns [Fellar and Charlot] Bernie, Bill, Paul and a host of German students whose names I don't remember )- - we spent a lot of time eating, drinking, debating, laughing in the multiple bistros within the environs of the University. Gary struck up a friendship with Baldar von Schirach's son who invited us all to a party at his father's Munich mansion - - the old boy was still a guest of the state at the big house, the only Nazi prisoner left at Spandau. How Gary engineered this bash, I do not know.
Gary had more energy than anyone else in our group. He would stay up late into the night, rise early in the morning and spend the day attending lectures, getting books in the library, interacting with fellow students and Theology faculty, and working in his Newman House digs. He was an extremely disciplined and purpose-driven guy. Gary had a social appetite - - he wanted to meet new people, and he did. He hung out with an amazing variety of people in Munich, and he was able to make friends whereever he went. He was gregarious, friendly, an outgoing California dude, a first-class raconteur, alternately serious and comedic, master of the bon mot, a sight for sore eyes decked out in his Lederhosen and raising a 2 liter stein, a lover of the good life, while being at the same time a serious and thoughtful student of philosophy and theology. He mastered the Bavarian slang and spoke with a thick Bavarian accent.. He was amazingly generous with the time and energy he devoted to his friends, and he was a continuous source of encouragement to me and to others within our group. From the first day I met him to the last email I received from him, Gary remained a dedicated intellectual devoted to the world of ideas; he believed in the power of ideas, he believed in the value of humanistic scholarship, he was a seeker committed to discovering and disclosing the truth, despite the awkwardness that might ensue. I left Munich in 1963 to return to the States; Gary remained in Munich and completed his degree with distinction.
Gary and Patty and Dylan came to visit my wife Kathleen and me when we were graduate students at Harvard in the late 60s. We had a grand time, a great, rip-roaring reunion in which Gary was at his finest. Over the years that followed Gary fired off long letters detailing his exploits in academe and along with purple patches devoted to hunting escapades and assorted other interactions. Along the way he took up archaeology and history, but he never abandoned his commitment to theology and philosophy. We met occasionally, and when we did it was always great fun to listen to him recount tales of his conquests - - he was definitely a dragon-slayer, fearless, unstoppable, but also something of a diplomat, a curious mixture of charm, grit and wily wit. We talked shop a lot. I read his work and was humbled by the breadth of his erudition. He contributed several first-rate articles to to an art + archaeology encyclopedia that I edited. I don't know how he found the time or where he got the energy - he was an administrator at UnivCA Sta. Cruz, was teaching, had students, but still managed to produce scholarly publications.
Gary wrote me with great enthusiam about Dorothea when they first met. Kathleen and I didn't actually meet Dorothea in person for a long time, but when we did we understood immediately Gary's happiness and extreme good fortune in having found his new partner. Dorothea was Gary's soul-mate; they understood one another, respected and loved one another deeply - - this was evident to anyone in their presence. Dorothea and Gary visited Kathleen and me about five years ago - we had a superb time and both Kathleen and I came away feeling privileged to be counted among their friends. Gary wrote me in his last days. He knew he was about to pass on to the other side. He wrote that he did not fear death, that he had done most of what he wanted to do with his life and had no regrets, but he was saddened by the thought of leaving his cherished Dorothea.
Gary was an unusual person: bright and quick, boundlessly enthusiastic and inquisitive, honorable and honest, generous in word and deed, an iconoclast who didn't suffer fools lightly but a man who was never mean-spirited even when dealing with dolts. We disagreed occasionally; Gary argued vigorously, but he also knew how to lighten up and maintain an even keel. I miss Gary. He was dear friend and colleague, and his absence puts a big hole in my life. I know I am a better person for having known him.
Kathleen and I hope Dorothea will be able to pick up the pieces and carry on - - without Gary at her side this will not be easy, we know, but we are betting or her ability to prevail. We regret that we cannot be present at the Memorial Service but send our love and condolences to Dorothea, to Patty, to Dylan, Natasha and Bailey. By the way, Dylan, you should know, as I am sure you must, that Gary had immense admiration for you and was proud to be your father.
Gary called me 'Corbs' so that's how I'll sign off: Corbs and Kathleen.
I only met Gary once when visiting my sister Mary-Kay Gamel and Tom Vogler. He was present at a dinner party at their home, and we had a grand time discussing weapons (I'm a retired FBI Special Agent) and the particular techniques of hunting turkeys and other animals. He was a fun guy, but clearly serious in his scholarship. My condolences go out to his family.
This is what David Shorter read at the memorial service on behalf of Gary's alumni advisees. The material was solicited by Lindsay Kelley and compiled by Christine Rose.
I. As alumnae shared their stories over the internet, pictographic images of Gary first poured out, larger than life. Frankly, many of us were scared upon first sighting: Gary in his jeans, boots, a terrifyingly large ring, a flannel shirt and that big ‘ol orange vest lumbering through Oakes. Those legendary animal sacrifices. “For God’s sake,” one student writes, “you made me discuss my QE in your backyard while you plucked the feathers of a pheasant.” But soon it became clear Gary was a cross between a hunter and a teddy bear: grizzly, warm, and gentle-hearted. Regularly in graduate seminars, Gary cleaned his nails with his knife, his boots up on the table, wearing some funky colored shirt he got in Germany. Somehow we imagined Gary going back home at night with a big glass of something just kicking back in the midst of all those animal furs and letting the rest of it go. Those German clothes. That raised eyebrow. That slow grin, that booming laugh, the pleasure of the process, the delight in the dissidence.
II. As a mentor, your dedication was relentless. You read our Qualifying Exams and Dissertations while hunting elephants in Namibia. You always wanted to test our mettle, not for your sake, but for ours. You never suffered sloppy thinking, intellectual slights of hand, or bad faith, but you also didn’t need to stamp anyone as a “disciple,” one who’d carry on your “intellectual legacy”. You welcomed the debates, the questions, the stumbles and the fractures. One student recalls telling you about someone in the tribe he was studying “passing on.” He writes, “You raised your eyebrows and asked “passing on?” as you chuckled at the notion of me recounting it as such.”
III. You made us think we mattered. One student recalls a time when Ivan Strenski wrote an abrasive attack against Gary’s work. He writes, “Strenski Googled himself and found an unpublished review I had written of him, because when he attacked Gary he included me and several others. We had been lumped together as religion killers and Gary was the malevolent force behind it all. I felt proud to have been incriminated with Gary. We were outlaws.”
IV. As a scholar, you provoked us. In a final email to us, you wrote: ”all my precious books, all my carefully hoarded files: who cares?” But the answer is that we do. For hours we mulled with you over the predator/prey relationship, the birth and death of religion, the critical difference between religion and religious, the excesses of history as an outgrowth of existential angst, the importance of uncovering the myths ensconced in our lives, a scholar’s ethical commitment to the future, the necessity of irony, heresy and heroes, no sacrifice without a death.
V. And who can forget the HistCon parties you and Dorothea put on? How excited you became playing some Lenny Bruce recording for the late-night crowd. You would find the recording, listen to Bruce go off, and look at us as if to say “Do you get it? Do you see how great this is?” Many of us never did, to be honest, but each year we simultaneously groaned and relished the privilege of the inclusion. And invariably soon after Bruce would come the playing of “Mambo Number Five” as you and Dorothea couldn’t help but sing and dance. Once again, we didn’t quite get it, but we laughed and celebrated you.
VI. As we share our memories—both ritual and sacrifice—in hopes of finding some sort of something to hold on to, your booming voice and sly skepticism lives on. After TA’ing your course called “Would the Real Jesus Stand Up,” we know you’d get a kick of how close the question is to “What would Jesus Do?” Indeed, many of us have asked ourselves in the years following our studies under you, “What Would Gary Do?” Professor by day, archival-hero by night, we can hear you iconoclastically saying, “They’re myths god-damn-it!”
VII. Gary, You are a rare and courageous individual who carried a deep love of books and ideas. You lived up to Nietzsche’s dictum to be true to your own self with fierce determination, good humor, and wily provocation. Thank you for your flair for life, the cadence in your voice, for not being afraid of the blood and guts, the near misses, or the patient waits before what you seek pauses and offers itself to you in backward glance. We need you, Gary, and we thank you for all that you left us.
The North American Association for the Study of Religion (NAASR) has posted a news item entitled, "Gary Lease (1940-2008): An Appreciation." The URL is http://www.as.ua.edu/naasr/news.html
I remember Gary's Intro to Christian Thought class (taken I suppose about 1978-80) as a stimulating one, and I still have all the books and notes from it. After reading others' recollections, I'm sorry he wasn't one of the professors I got to know well.
In retrospect, I think most people who taught at UCSC when I was there were/are larger-than-life characters in one way or another, and I hope that my scholarship and personality inspire my students in a way similar to what I was privileged to experience thirty years ago.
I still miss you, Gary....and I still find myself thanking you for everything you gave to me, and everything you taught me.
-patty blanchette, phd '05
I miss Professor Gary as well.
Professor Gary Lease was such a great person. He is indeed a big lost for the University of California. Thanks for this and more power!
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