obits

Kalyana T. Mahanthappa, age 88, of Lincoln, formerly of Boulder, Colo., died peacefully on November 2, 2022. “K.T.,” as he was known to friends and colleagues, was a theoretical physicist and educator who loved travel, art, and classical music, and was a devoted husband and father.

Born in Tumkur, Karnataka (then the state of Mysore), India on May 1, 1934, K.T. grew up in several towns as his family moved in the state to follow his father, a high-ranking civil servant. Showing an early aptitude for math and science, he completed a B.Sc. with honors in Physics from Mysore Univ. (Bangalore) in 1954, followed by graduate studies at Delhi Univ. While working towards his M.Sc., somewhat on a whim, he thought to apply to graduate schools in the U.S. He completed one application, took it to the post office, and — stunned by the cost to mail it — decided to apply to only that one U.S. university. A few months later, he told his father he had been accepted to Harvard and insisted on going.

With M.Sc. in hand, he boarded a Norwegian freighter in Kozhikode (known then as Calicut) destined for New York with only a few passengers. He survived the voyage subsisting as a Hindu vegetarian on “stinky cheese” eaten at the captain’s table, squeaked through the Suez Canal just weeks before it closed due to the Second Arab-Israeli War, and finally arrived in Cambridge in 1956. K.T. was fortunate to have as his mentor and thesis advisor, the future Nobel laureate Julian Schwinger, and he was awarded a Ph.D. in Theoretical Physics by Harvard University in 1961. 

His professional career thereafter focused on “grand unification theories, fermion mixings, and masses including charge fermions and neutrinos”, and his appointments spanned fellowships and faculty positions at UCLA, UPenn, the Inst. for Advanced Study (Princeton), and from 1966 onward, the Univ. of Colorado at Boulder, where he became full Professor in 1970 until retirement in 2014. In addition, were sabbatical fellowships at the Abdus Salam International Centre for Theoretical Physics (Trieste), Cambridge University, and Imperial College London. Among recognitions received, he was elected a Fellow of the American Physical Society in 1969.

Beyond his own research and teaching, for 25 years, K.T. took great pride in organizing, securing funding for, and leading the annual Theoretical Advanced Study Institute (“TASI”) in Boulder — an international gathering of scholars for lectures and workshops, a “rite of passage for most theoretical physicists in the US” as described by one of his former graduate students. Further to his academic legacy over 50 years, K.T. taught hundreds of undergraduates, trained, and mentored more than 20 graduate students and postdoctoral fellows, and published over 140 research papers in respected journals, conference proceedings, and book chapters.

Beyond a life in physics, K.T. loved travel. With his family, he enjoyed hiking in his beloved foothills of Boulder, exploring National Parks throughout the American West, and sought out art and culture during sabbatical years in Europe. His globe-trotting via research conferences and workshops took him to over 30 countries over the years before finally moving to Lincoln in 2015. Throughout, he remained close to his roots through philanthropic support of educational and community service institutions in Karnataka.

K.T. is survived by his wife of 61 years, Prameela; his three sons, Nagesh and his wife Valentine Talland of Cambridge, Rudresh and his wife Pooja Bakri of Montclair, N.J., and Mahesh and his wife Kara Burrow of Edina, Minn.; and four grandchildren, Tara Talland, Talin, Freya, and Asha. Donations in his memory may be made to the Boulder County Parks & Open Space Foundation or to the National Park Foundation.

A Celebration of Life will be held at a later time; for additional information or to leave condolences, please visit his memorial page maintained by the Dee Funeral Home.

Judith Olga Györgypály Balogh, M.D., 92, of Lincoln, MA passed away on October 30, 2022. Judith had celebrated 67 years of marriage to Károly Balogh, M.D.

Dr. Balogh was born in Budapest, Hungary. The daughter of the director of the largest flour mill in Hungary, Judith, an only child, was raised to be an independent person. In her youth, shortly before World War II impacted Hungary, her family moved to their farm in the countryside in an attempt to be spared the ravages of war in the city.

In 1954, Judith graduated from Semmelweis Medical School in Budapest. As a medical student she was an extern in the Department of Physiology and was the coauthor of a publication on renal function in shock. She met Károly Balogh when they were both medical students, and they were married in January 1955. After her compulsory military service, she started her training in psychiatry at the National Institute of Neurology and Psychiatry in Budapest.

Shortly after the October 1956 Soviet invasion, Judith and Károly escaped the communist occupation by fleeing separately to Austria. Successfully reuniting in Vienna, the young doctor couple traveled to the United States on an International Rescue Committee chartered flight. The pilot tilted the plane to show the Hungarians the Statue of Liberty. They entered the U.S. through Camp Kilmer, NJ, and received a Rockefeller Foundation Fellowship and posting at the Tulane Medical School in New Orleans. After a year in New Orleans, Judith and Károly packed their VW bug and moved to Boston. They first lived in Boston, then moved to Cambridge and started a family. They settled in 1971 in Lincoln, where they raised their children and have lived since.

In 1962, Dr. Judith Balogh completed her training as chief resident in psychiatry at Boston City Hospital, then was on the staff of the Massachusetts Mental Health Center as a child and adolescent psychiatrist. For ten years, she served as chief of Pediatric Psychiatry at Cambridge City Hospital. Judith marveled at the resilience of children faced with harsh and stressful situations. As part of her psychiatric training, Judith underwent psychoanalysis with the renowned psychiatrist Helene Deutsch, M.D., the last member of Freud’s original Viennese School of Psychoanalysts.

Judith took great joy in helping her patients and seeing them flourish after treatment. As a young psychiatrist in Budapest, she treated a young woman with schizophrenia, remaining by her side during the patient’s shock therapy. The patient was cured. Many of Judith’s patients remained in touch with her, decades after their treatment.

Judith and Károly had three children, Adam, Peter, and Anna. Judith made raising her family a priority. Judith and Károly have three grandchildren, Charlotte, Eva, and Alexander. Judith and Károly shared their athletic passions and love of the outdoors with their children, including skiing as regular season ticket holders for many years at Pleasant Mountain in Maine. Since her childhood, Judith excelled in ice skating and won several competitions in gymnastics.

In addition to music, art and culture in general, Judith was passionate about collecting and reading books and newspaper articles on a multitude of subjects, and she filled stacks of notebooks with her own thoughts, analysis, and story ideas. Growing up as a practical person during the uncertain times of World War II and Soviet occupation of her native country, Judith chose medicine, but had times been different, admitted she likely would have pursued a literary career.

Anyone who met Judith remembers her Hungarian accent, kindness, energy, directness, courage and wisdom. She is oftentimes remembered for her youthful exploits. Notably, as a two-year old, when her mother took an afternoon nap after a large Sunday meal, Judith would use her thumb and forefinger to pry open the eyes of her sleeping mother. A lively five-year-old child, Judith would intentionally skate through the joined arms of couples. As a 14-year old on her family’s farm during the war when the farm’s horses were requisitioned by the occupying German soldiers, she had to present the horses at the collection point. After the German veterinarian examined the horses, Judith simply drove off with Flóra and Fácán (Flora and Pheasant).

Soon came the Soviet occupying soldiers. Judith, along with many of the village females, were hidden in haylofts to avoid rape. When she spotted a Soviet soldier taking Flóra, she ran out of hiding, grabbed the bridle of the horse on which the soldier sat, and pulled him off. Fortunately she was not shot or raped. At her first encounter with a Soviet soldier she was puzzled when he reached down to take her pulse. Thus she lost her wristwatch but saved Flóra a second time and survived to tell the story. At a tense point in the war when the Soviets were entering the village, some Germans were still present at the other end. Had the Soviets realized this, the entire village would have been killed for hiding them. Judith ran through the thick mud of the village to tell the Germans to leave, saving the village. She was interviewed as part of the Hungarian 1956 Memory Project. 

Her adventurous nature never subsided. Well into her fifties, when her car broke down and a young male motorcycle rider offered her a ride to the nearest gas station, ever the sportslady, she thought nothing of getting on the back of the motorbike.

A graveside service for family and local friends was held on Friday, November 4th at the Lincoln Cemetery. A Celebration of Life for the family and friends will be held at a future date.

The Balogh family wishes to acknowledge their gratitude to the staff at the Waltham Crossing Benchmark facility and Caring Hospice Services where Judith spent her final days in their compassionate care.

In lieu of flowers, please consider honoring the memory of Dr. Judith G. Balogh with a donation to the BrightFocus Foundation’s Alzheimer’s Disease Research fund (22512 Gateway Center Drive, Clarksburg, MD 20871); Special Olympics (512 Forest St., Marlborough, MA 01752); or, Reach Out and Read (89 South St., Suite. 201, Boston, MA 02111).

Arrangements are under the care of Dee Funeral Home & Cremation Service of Concord, which provided this obituary. Readers are invited to leave a note on her online tribute wall.

A memorial service will be held at the First Parish in Lincoln on Wednesday, Oct. 26 at 3:30 p.m. for longtime Lincoln resident Colin Louis Melville Smith, who died on October 20. Remote viewers can watch the livestream here. 

Colin was born just before midnight in Burnley, England on December 30, 1933. Since his twin sister Pat was born a few minutes after midnight, they always had different birthdays. He was fond of telling the story about when his young father heard news of the delivery and asked the obstetrician, “Is it a girl or a boy?” The puzzling answer was: “Both.”

Colin grew up biking long distances along the stone-walled lanes of Lancashire, and he was proud that he always used to run the whole length of his paper route. Since he was skilled at drawing, the idea of studying architecture appealed to him. His father thought he should find his first job and contribute to the family upkeep. Colin defied his father by obtaining a scholarship to the Architectural Association in London. 

After completing his studies at the AA, he applied for a scholarship to the Harvard Graduate School of Design. He said it was the only university he had heard of in the U.S. and he thought it would be fun to visit America. It came as a shock that he had to study quite hard. He was kept busy at the Cambridge home of Charlie and Barbara Rockwells where he lived, helped with baby baths in the evening, and formed a life-long friendship. His touring plans had to be put off until the next summer when he and his friend Walter Thomson traveled across the U.S. in an old wood-paneled station wagon. They made it out to California and picked peaches in Modesto where it was 110 degrees in the shade. The local newspaper, the Modesto Bee, learned about them and sent a reporter out. Their picture behind crates of Del Monte peaches appeared on the front page of the Newspaper with the headline: “Harvard graduates help with peach harvest.”

When Colin’s Graduate School of Design professor Walter Gropius started a new firm, The Architects Collaborative, he hired his best students, including Colin, who commented that it was exciting to be in charge of a whole project. He said that if he had stayed in London he probably would have been designing bathrooms for a society architect. When Ben Thompson left TAC in 1966 to form his own firm, he, like Gropius, took with him his prized employees and again, Colin was one. 

In 1969 Colin and a small group went on their own to form ARC/Architectural Resources Cambridge. Their work at TAC and BTA gave them a foundation as respected and capable architects and enabled them to begin a firm that is still flourishing in its 53rd year.

Their first major project was the Kennedy School of Government in which Colin played a major role. Colin went on to be the partner in charge of school and university projects at Buckingham, Browne and Nichols, Tufts, Syracuse, New York University, Russell Sage, UMC, Pappajohn Business School at the University of Iowa, and University of Missouri. He also was involved in projects for Digital Equipment, Lotus, and a historic renovation in Philadelphia for Design Research. Colin was a steady hand guiding the firm. His charm, grace, and good humor, served with a British accent, were appealing to everyone.

Colin was an active member of the Boston Society of Architects and was named a Fellow by the American Institute of Architects. He was appointed to the Massachusetts Designer Selection Board, whose responsibility was to appoint talented architects for major state projects.

Colin was married to Diana Dennison in 1970. They lived in Lincoln with their two children, Adrian and Isabel. Colin loved Lincoln and participated in Lincoln’s community life at many levels. He chaired the Lincoln Historic District Commission for over 20 years. He was also responsible for facilities at the First Parish Church in Lincoln, where he joked that when a lightbulb needed changing, he would receive a call. He saved the church’s leaning steeple from falling into the sanctuary with a major rebuild project in the mid-1980s. He would climb the scaffolding every morning to check on the work before he left for his office.

Colin loved to read and pursued his many interests by delving into all the books he could find on a subject. Books on British History and royalty, 18th-century English furniture and silver, Chinese porcelain, art history and the vagaries of the art market, French wine, the climbers of Mount Everest, and the Romanov family still fill up the family bookshelves.

Always interested in meeting new people and seeing new places, Colin had an international outlook that was unusual in his generation. He camped out under the stars inside the Parthenon in the 1950s, and he and Diana visited Hong Kong, Bali, Thailand, India, Nepal, Iran, Peru, Israel and Egypt, among many places. His close friends spanned many cultures and countries, from India to Switzerland to Iran and the U.K. as well as the U.S.

He is survived by his wife, Diana Smith; his children, Adrian Smith and Isabel Smith Margulies; two grandchildren, Alexia Margulies and Julia Margulies; his twin sister Pat Stephenson; his brother Gordon Smith; and an adored cousin, Linda Ramsden. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in honor of Colin Smith to the First Parish in Lincoln (14 Bedford Rd., Lincoln, MA  01773).

In the October 7 edition of News Acorns, the wrong day of the week was given for the memorial service for Bob Lemire. The correct day is Saturday (not Sunday), October 22. 

In the Squirrel calendar, the wrong ending time was listed for the Phinney’s Holiday Festival on November 6. It will run from 11 a.m.–4 p.m. at the Pierce House.

George W. Thomas, 89, of Lincoln, died on Tuesday, October, 11, 2022. He was the devoted husband for 64 years of Jane (Volpe) Thomas.

George was born in Waltham to George and Ella Thomas on April 10, 1933. After graduating from Waltham High School, he enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, where he served honorably for four years and received his discharge as a staff sergeant in 1955.

For many years, George was an aviation mechanics instructor at East Coast Aero Tech. He later became the director of education.

A longtime Lincoln resident, he was a faithful parishioner and usher at St. Joseph Church. One Christmas he repaired and repainted the figures for both the inside crèche and the outside crèche. A few years later, when the priest wanted an ambry for the holy oils, he asked if George could hang one.  When he realized the high cost of the ambry, George went out, bought the materials, and built the one that is still in use. George also served his community as a volunteer firefighter and EMT. He was involved with the Boy Scouts and enjoyed being a merit badge counselor.

He loved family and friends and enjoyed everything related to aviation. He also loved crafting model airplanes, ships, locomotives and jewelry, as well as painting at the Lincoln Open Studio. He could almost always be found at his workbench, building something. He could fix anything.

In addition to his wife, he leaves behind a son, Dr. Henry Thomas and his wife Jai of Stow; two grandchildren, Justin Sundell-Thomas and his husband Ryan O’Donnell, and Lillian Sundell-Thomas and her fiancé Robert Hoover; his sister, Sandra Harris and her husband Andrew, along with two nephews, Jim Harris and his wife Lisa, and Paul Harris. He was preceded in death by two children, Anthony and Jenifer Thomas. 

Family members will gather for a private burial service with military honors at Lincoln Cemetery.

In lieu of flowers, contributions in his memory may be made to the Society of St. Vincent de Paul Lincoln/Weston (SVdP), P.O. Box 324, Lincoln, MA 01773. Arrangements are under the care of Dee Funeral Home & Cremation Service of Concord; click here to leave a memory or condolence. 

By Dana Tatlock

Jane French Tatlock of Lincoln passed away at home on October 3, 2022 surrounded by her family and beloved pets.

Born in Cleveland, Ohio, on Oct. 20, 1940 (10-20-40), a date she was exceedingly proud of, Jane was the third daughter of Charles French and Jeanette Shepard French. Living in what was then the boonies of Pepper Pike, Ohio, Jane attended Laurel School, where her report cards often suggested that while she appeared indifferent to classwork and proper behavior, she delighted in socializing and general mischief. One of her great childhood loves was her home away from home: Aloha Camp in Fairlee, Vt. There, Jane made lifelong friends and proudly achieved the rank of Admiral for her canoeing prowess.

Her move to Providence, R.I., to attend Pembroke College began her life on the East Coast, where she met her future husband, Richard (Dick) Tatlock, in physics Lab.

One could always expect the unexpected with Jane. During the early years of their marriage, Jane and Dick zipped around Cambridge on their vintage Ariel motorcycle with Bentley the cat poking his head out of the Bucknell Bullet sidecar. This theme continued after the young couple moved to Lincoln, where Jane got around town on a green Honda 125 with Wolseley the Jack Russell riding behind in a milk crate, ears flapping. Jane rarely missed an opportunity to push the envelope. In the ’70s, seeing a notice in the Boston Globe for a newly formed women’s ice hockey team, Jane bought hockey skates, taught herself to use them, and joined the Mother Puckers, a team ultimately recognized by the U.S. Women’s Team as paving the way for women’s hockey.

Jane instilled in her children Hugh, Dana and Alexander the love of adventure that she and Dick shared. Lead the kids down whitewater rapids in kayaks? You betcha, despite later admitting she had no idea of the real danger. Extended hiking and camping trips in the White Mountains? Of course. Meanwhile, Jane and Dick embarked annually on weeklong trips in their classic Boston Whaler, cruising the Erie Canal, St. Lawrence Seaway, and Hudson River north towards Montreal or south towards Manhattan. Until recently, she and her friends could be found walking the woods of Lincoln or on their weekly bike rides into Boston, one-way streets be damned.

Jane was a connector and a giver. Once settled in Lincoln, she developed a lovely and close circle of friends, and enthusiastically scooped up new people into her life. When her children were young, Jane helped create the Lincoln Day Camp. She jumped in as a coach for Lincoln Youth Soccer, despite originally knowing nothing about the game. She later worked with the Council on Aging, organizing traditional field trips to museums and untraditional but edifying tours of assorted, random factories.

Devoted to the First Parish Church, a community she loved, Jane dedicated years to gathering and editing the weekly Parish News. Through the church, Jane discovered one of her greatest loves: handbells. The Lincoln Handbell Ringers became not just a source of lovely music but a family to her, as they shared their music at the church, in the community, and at numerous festivals with very good food.

Jane was a cornerstone of her family. She and her French sisters, Mary and Peggy, fondly known as the “Big Three,” were leading lights for their descendants. Jane presided over extended family Thanksgivings and long summers in Mattapoisett, and whenever she was asked, “Should we do this?” or ”Can so-and-so join?” Jane’s unhesitating answer was always an emphatic, “Yes.” 

Jane is survived by her husband Dick, her children Hugh and Dana, her grandchildren Ella, Ben, Freddie, and Toby, her sister Peggy, and all of her loving nieces, nephews, and grand-nieces and nephews. She is missed by so many but her joyous and adventurous spirit will live on forever in our hearts and memories.

A memorial service will be held on February 18, 2023 in Lincoln. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations in Jane’s name may be made to The Precious Project.

A memorial service will be held in Lincoln on Sunday, Oct. 2 for longtime Lincoln resident Jane “Jinx” Leichtle Ward who died on July 14. She leaves behind a sister, four children, four daughter/son-in-laws, six grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, and many friends.

Jane was born in Waterbury, Conn. on July 30, 1933 to Paul Adrian and Eleanor Blondeck Leichtle. Born at the trough of America’s Great Depression, that economic setting and the Second World War which followed were formative childhood experiences. Waterbury, aka “Brass City,” played a major strategic role in the supplying of war materiel. Looking back she characterized herself as “a child of the war.” During the war, Jane learned at the Salvation Army how to knit, which became a lifelong avocation and passion. In adulthood, her children and numerous friends became beneficiaries of her voluminous production of sweaters. Jane’s childhood home was shared with two sisters: Mary Lou Bay, who died in 2016, and Adrienne Maxwell, who survives her sisters.

Jane attended Waterbury’s Crosby High School, graduating as class valedictorian in 1951. She  balanced her academic pursuits with being a cheerleader for Crosby’s athletics teams, as well as extracurricular activities such as the school German language club. Relatively small and light, Jane enjoyed sharing recollections of being tossed high up in the air during cheerleading routines.

With Crosby behind her, Jane entered Wellesley College as a Wellesley Scholar. Her fondest recollections from her Wellesley years were connected to the camaraderie she shared with her classmates, in particular with her dorm-mates at Munger Hall in the center of the campus. She formed many friendships while living there which endured for the rest of her life. Taking a break from the intense thinking-heavy demands of academics, summers she worked as a waitress at the Asticou Inn in Northeast Harbor, Maine, near Acadia National Park. It was there that she met Thomas Dillingham Ward. They were married the summer between her college junior and senior years. They separated in 1969 and subsequently divorced.

After graduating from Wellesley in 1955, Jane had four children in slightly over five years: Geoffrey, Benjamin, Thomas Jr., and Eliza. After living in Concord and on Beacon Hill during the initial years of her marriage, she moved to Lincoln to stay — excepting short residences in London and the San Francisco Bay area later in life — in the fall of 1959. After returning for good in 1992, she routinely pronounced Lincoln “the best place in the world to live,” appreciative of its beauty and the town having been a terrific place for raising her children. She was also deeply grateful for the role her circle of friends, constituting a notional village, played in supporting her family and career. Observing them in their adulthoods, she was delighted to pronounce her kids, however different from each other, as all having an “SOH” – sense of humor.

Jane started her professional career in 1964 working for the legendary Cambridge research and development company Bolt Beranek and Newman. She moved on from BBN in 1969, in part over philosophical objections to their contribution to the arms race. She held several management consulting positions over the next seven years before landing at Digital Equipment in 1976, where she remained until she retired in 1992. She met her second husband, David Cope, at DEC in 1978. They soon discovered a mutual intense interest in Africa and its wildlife. After an initial game viewing tour to Kenya, they went on to organize and lead 14 tours themselves — to Kenya, Botswanna, Tanzania, and Zambia. Jane considered her trips with David to Africa to be highlights of her life. They also traveled to Europe many times.

Subsequent to her retirement, Jane and David enjoyed pursuing their individual and common interests from their Lincoln home. Hers included knitting (of course), reading, history, and cooking. Their daily rituals routinely involved doing the New York Times crossword puzzle, games of backgammon, and croquet when the weather allowed. They enjoyed entertaining friends and family and the aforementioned traveling. She and David included grandchildren in several of their trips abroad, reveling in exposing that generation to the wider world. Her first grandchild, Tyler, son of Tom Jr. and his wife Andrea Ward, was born in 1984. He was followed by Christina (1985), also of Tom and Andrea; Kathleen (1988) and Martin (1991), children of Ben and his wife Mary Pat Daly; and Izabel (1997) and Alexander (2003), children of Eliza and husband Tim Mar.

A year after David’s death in 2015, Jane moved from her home of 57 years to an apartment near the town commercial center, where she lived independently until her death. She appreciated her modest unit with its southwestern facing windows, allowing her to enjoy sunsets. A significant avenue of fulfillment during these later years was her participation in the Lincoln Council on Aging’s knitting and bridge groups – the former offering a platform for passing on her knowledge of and passion for the craft to younger enthusiasts. Through to her life’s end Jane proclaimed that she was glad to have been born when and where she was, saying that her generation “lived in the best of times.”

A memorial service will be held for Jane on Sunday, Oct. 2 at 2 p.m. in Bemis Hall. Any contributions made in her memory would be appropriately directed to the Lincoln Council on Aging. Click here for her online guestbook. Arrangements are under the care of Dee Funeral Home.

By Kathleen Nichols and Katie Creel

Elinor P. Nichols of Lincoln, an indomitable Lincoln walker with a globe-trotting past, died on Sept. 7, 2022. She was born March 11, 1927 in Nagpur, India. Being “from the jungles of central India” was her first story in a lifetime of stories lived and told. It explained the village Hindi she learned from her nanny and the frequency with which she got lost in concrete jungles: “If I had an elephant, I’d be fine,” she would tell the passerby who showed her the way.

While big sister Carol stayed in the bungalow, Elinor and older brother Gale roved narrow paths in search of things different than home. There was the morning the python dropped on them from above. There was the evening the tiger stalked them home and they could not let themselves break into a run, lest they be chased.

Elinor’s boundless compassion was born in the starving India of the 1930s. She fed her chapattis to famished dogs at the railway station. She slept with orphaned baby squirrels. After leaving her parents, Esther Gale and Kenneth Lyon Potee, to board at Kodaikanal International School, a British hill station, she experienced hunger firsthand. Privation rooted her life in gratitude: if you’re alive and not hungry, It’s Good Enough.

At school, when Elinor wasn’t attracting suitors with her sunny disposition, she was rescuing the brown rats that the kitchen cooks caught, strangled, and threw over the wall into the school playground. The rats that survived till morning she wrapped in a pair of underpants so they couldn’t bite, hid them in her dresser, fed them until they recovered, then released them near the kitchen.

Elinor started Oberlin College in the middle of World War II. To her naïve eyes, America was an alien place with alien values: money, bridge, alcohol, movies, and cigarettes. It took twelve weeks for her mother’s comforting letters to answer Elinor’s homesick ones.

Her college majors, sociology and psychology, helped make sense of things, and people. After marrying Roger Nichols, she earned a master’s degree in psychiatric social work (the first class to graduate from that program at the University of Iowa). As her class of three crossed the stage, the dean whispered to her, “You’re the best student we’ve ever had.” Following a year of visiting patients at home, Elinor gave birth to Kathleen and Wendy.

To pay off medical school debts, the family decamped in 1957 to Dhahran, Saudi Arabia, a small compound built on rocky, barren hills near the world’s most productive oil well, Dammam #7. Camels instead of elephants, deserts instead of jungles, more admirers of her vim: to Elinor it felt like home. Being cute in a tennis dress was fun. Driving a forehand shot to the far baseline was more fun. Yet when imminent loss dispirited her opponent, Elinor threw the game — invisibly and gently. Winning didn’t mean diddly-squat. Jogging home after three sets in 110℉, tennis shoes squishy wet, she thought she could never be happier. Happiness was also water skiing on the Persian Gulf, jumping the wake — until she wiped out and fell into a salty sea of jellyfish and sea snakes.

In another life, Elinor would have been an archeologist. Clambering between pre-Islamic ruins, she could see camouflaged blonde chert arrowheads where others saw only rocks. She led Girl Scout troops into the desert to scramble up jabals (mountains) and explore riverbeds. Around campfires at night her guitar and sweet voice led the singing. When her son Quaife was born in 1961, she sang him spirituals and folk songs.

Inheriting an Arabian mare posed a challenge. She knew her Indian elephants but it was obvious that horses were too big and frightening to ride so she exercised Sheer by walking her in circles. Her Girl Scouts snickered, “Mrs. Nichols, we’ve been talking and we think you’re too scared to ride Sheer.” “I’m not scared,” she said, “I just need the exercise.” The girls hoisted her ninety-six pounds into the saddle. Soon, she was cantering yellow dunes. Soon, galloping the endless beaches.

Twice the family drove 4,000 miles from London to Arabia, jerry cans of water strapped to the bumpers of a Land Rover, Elinor handing sandwiches to her three children riding outside on the hood and roof. From Istanbul in the west to Sharjah in the east, in souks and harbors, her Hindi opened doors — a gold smuggler in Dubai offered her passage on his sailing dhow — but it was humor, kindness, and warmth that won her a world of friends. Those who shared their addresses received years of airmail postcards, an honor they returned by arriving on her doorstep at nap time — horrifying.

In 1970, Elinor moved to a marsh island in Cohasset Harbor, south of Boston, where she discovered a plethora of animals that needed her. She fed the possums, porcupines, ducks, chipmunks, and squirrels. She fed the coyotes and foxes that eat them. Spying from a mile away her white Toyota heading home, red-tailed hawks circling overhead screeched for their daily chicken wings. On the front lawn, raccoons dined on dog food. When an exhausted mother of five kits leaned against Elinor to rest while her babies ate from Elinor’s cupped hands, the two mothers needed no words.

Amirah, her Newfoundland, roamed the nearby beaches in search of picnics. The phone would ring: “Come get your dog. She just ate our hot dogs.” Elinor would jump into a canoe and paddle across the harbor. Willingly, Amirah would clamber into the bow and ride serenely until a seagull flew by, whereupon she’d capsize the canoe and paddle towards Portugal.

Unable to pay the mortgage on Bailey’s Island, Elinor and Roger founded University Associates for International Health, a nonprofit. Staffing Arabia’s hospitals and professional schools sent Elinor crisscrossing Eurasia to interview and hire hundreds of employees.

After Roger became director of Boston’s Museum of Science in 1981, Elinor threw herself into organizing blockbuster exhibits and raising money to build an Omni theater. Widowed at age 60 in 1987, her stories of Ramses the Great drew crowds to their final exhibit.

Elinor gave her grandchildren the world. Riding camels past the Great Pyramid of Giza was not enough; they searched for better pyramids, got lost, and ended up in an Egyptian Army firing range. At age 85, Elinor moved to Lincoln, wrote a memoir, True Tales of Jungle India, and explored her new town, walking four miles a day, every day, in every weather. She waved to bus drivers, talked to police officers, pet dogs, and told her stories to whomever would listen — which, it turned out, was everyone.

She is survived by her children, Kathleen, Wendy, and Quaife Nichols, and her grandchildren Kathleen and Roger Creel, and Wellesley, Denver, and Alex Nichols.

A memorial service in her honor will be held on Saturday, Nov. 5 at 1 pm at the First Parish Church. Please RSVP here for the preceding luncheon at noon. Donations in her honor may be made to the Nature Conservancy.

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Editor’s note: Following is a remembrance written and posted on LincolnTalk by Kathleen Nichols.

In the beginning she walks easily. Four miles a day, seven days a week, no matter the weather. Eager to meet you, wanting to hear your story, ready to tell a story, hoping your dog was friendly.

Thanks, nice dogs large and small, for warm fur and wet kisses.

Thanks, Lincoln Garden Club, for the water fountain and the beauty of Peace Park. She needed both.

Thanks to Lincoln’s school children who, racing past on Wednesday afternoons without knocking her down, gave of their exuberance.

Thanks, Lincoln, for offering her rides on wet and cold days. And for accepting when she cheerfully and unequivocally declined. Declining made her feel stronger.

She needs a cane now, hearing aids, glasses. She forgets your names and faces, is amazed you know hers.

Thanks, Lincoln Police Department, for protecting her crosswalk and listening to her tall tales.

Thanks, Lincoln Library, for supplying a steady stream of good books.

She wears out several canes. Now switches to a rollator — red — so she can paint the town. Miles per day decreases to three. Pace: slow but resolute.

Thanks, Lincoln, for calling her an inspiration; it made her try harder.

Thanks, bus drivers of Doherty’s Garage, for every honk, wave, smile.

Mark Twain said, “I can live for two months on a good compliment.” Thanks, young biker who shouted, “Hello, Invincible!”

Pierce Hill Road gets steeper. She stops to rest in the middle of the road. Thanks for stopping to ask if she’s ok. And for telling her to move over.

Onwards and upwards she walks.
It takes three heart attacks to stop her.

When last seen, Mama was heading east towards Harvard Medical School, eager to tell her story to medical students studying anatomy.

Thanks, Lincoln, for seeing, accepting, protecting, and cherishing her.