Remembrance of Tom

By Bill Harwood

Milton Academy, October 29, 2001

We gather this afternoon to honor and remember Thomas Wales.

Before I begin, I must decide whether to refer to him as Tom or Tommy. For me, I was only too happy to lose the nickname Billy as I approached adolescence. But not so for Thomas. Whether by necessity so he could be distinginguished from his father of the same name or, perhaps, because his male ego was better able to withstand being identified by the diminutive form of his name, most of his Milton and Harvard friends never stopped calling him Tommy. In fact, last summer when I mentioned him by name to my six year old daughter, she asked "How old is this "Tommy" person, anyway?" So Tommy it will be.

I was privileged to maintain a close friendship with Tommy for the last 34 years -- as classmates here at Milton; as roommates at Harvard; as law students in New York; as vacationers to the Fox Island Thoroughfare in Maine; and as activists in the effort to promote sensible gun laws.
The Tommy that I knew and loved as an adult was not so different from the Tommy so many of you knew and loved here at Milton 30+ years ago. In fact, as I reflect on Tommy's life, it is clear that the values and character that Tommy displayed in the classrooms and on the athletic fields here were never forsaken.

One of Tommy's favorite activities was climbing. Whether he was a toddler that always climbed on the furniture, I'm not sure. But by the time Tommy got to Milton, his climbing escapades became well known. (Well, perhaps he succeeded in hiding it from some of the faculty). Whether it was on the roof and fire escapes of Forbes House or at the old quarries over in Quincy, Tommy honed his climbing skills just as diligently -- no much more diligently -- than he ever memorized German vocabulary for Ad Carter or mastered the great philosophers for A. O. Smith.

Not being one to waste talent, Tommy picked up right where he left off when we got to college. While most of us did our relaxing at Cambridge bars, Tommy's extracurricular activities often involved climbing out the dorm window and then, like a cat burglar, traversing the incredibly steep slate roof of Eliot House. The greater the danger, the more Tommy loved it.

Tommy continued his climbing throughout his adult life. Although the venue changed from late night expeditions on the roofs of Milton and Harvard dorms to the magnificent peaks of the Northwest, Tommy never was happier than when he was using all of his physical and mental abilities to defy gravity.
Tommy's ability to overcome fear was also evident in other parts of his life. He never backed away from a challenge. Reflecting the turbulence of the 60's, Tommy was not afraid to speak up to Dave Wicks, our Milton Headmaster, when he believed in the cause.

Perhaps his finest hour at Milton was the Spring of 1970 when the U.S. invaded Cambodia and many college campuses took on the attributes of a war zone. Tommy seized the moment and exercised his leadership as Head Monitor.

At Tommy's urging, classes were called off for a day to allow students to meet in groups to discuss the conflict in Southeast Asia. But Tommy pushed for more and eventually all seniors were given the opportunity to abandon their senior studies and join in the anti-war movement. At first none of us had a clue what this meant, but we quickly sensed that this was a chance to spend the last several weeks of senior year with no adult supervision. Some of us even assumed that we could conduct our protests on nearby beaches where the greatest conflict would be which radio station we listened to.

But Tommy had fought hard for these additional freedoms and, like any good leader, he wasn't about to let any of us make a mockery of it. So each day, those of us who signed up for the anti-war activities piled into cars, drove to one of the nearby south shore communities, and began ringing doorbells asking for signatures on our petitions to end the war. Needless to say the days grew warmer, the drill grew old, and frequently we suffered the humiliation of doors being slammed in our face. While many of us began to have second thoughts about this new freedom, Tommy never wavered and rarely tolerated any hooky.

As with his climbing, Tommy's willingness to take on the establishment did not end at Milton. After graduating from Hofstra Law School where he served as editor-in-chief of the Law Review and after clerking for a New Jersey federal judge, Tommy went to work at the prestigious Wall Street firm of Sullivan & Cromwell.

This unexpected detour into one of the inner sanctums of American capitalism caught many of us by surprise. Tommy quickly made it clear that he had no intention of getting into the competition to make partner -- he was just taking advantage of a lucrative opportunity to replenish his bank account.
In fact, when I asked him about how he was handling the brutal hours that young associates were expected to work, he responded with that mischievous smile of his - "No problem, I just hide in the library when new cases are being assigned."

True to his character, Tommy did not get hooked by the lure of a big Wall Street paycheck. Within a couple of years, he and Bizzie were on there way to Seattle where Tommy began a brilliant career as a federal prosecutor. Tommy quickly was given the difficult and complicated bank fraud cases. He used to refer to the space where he and his colleagues prepared their massive cases against fraudulent bank executives as "the war room." Tommy loved the fight and never lost a case.

Despite his job as a criminal prosecutor, Tommy never embraced strict law and order politics. Throughout his life he was a true and unwavering "lefty." He was proud to be a liberal long after the "L" word became unfashionable.
Tommy never hesitated to speak out on the side of criminals when he saw injustice. He opposed the death penalty as a misguided desire for revenge that was primarily imposed on the poor and minorities. He was particularly outspoken about the 3-strike law that required life sentences for multiple offenders. Despite being a tough prosecutor, Tommy never stopped believing in the potential for good in each human being.

Tommy's compassion for others was most evident in the way he dealt with children. Tommy never missed an opportunity to proudly update me on the latest achievements of his own children - Amy's success on the soccer field or the publication of one of young Tommy's articles. It was a great day for Tommy when, as part of our 25th college reunion, he watched his son graduate from Harvard. There is no doubt that Amy and Tommy are his greatest legacy.

But Tommy's compassion for children was not limited to his own. When my oldest daughter decided to attend college in Portland, Oregon, Tommy swung into action. Despite being almost three hours away in Seattle, he drove to her dorm, took her out to dinner, then gave me a call to report that she was okay. That's a great friend.

I particularly enjoyed Tommy interacting with my youngest children. One day last summer, the phone rang and my four year old daughter got to the phone first. Expecting to quickly take over the phone and apologize for Julianna's youthful phone manners, I stood close by. But instead of handing me the phone or simply hanging up as she often did, Julianna became engrossed in a conversation with the unidentified caller. For several minutes they appeared to discuss a broad range of subjects. Finally, long after Ellen and I had given up trying to guess who in the world had been able to capture our daughter's attention for so long, Julianna turned and said "Daddy, it's Tommy for you."
Nowhere were Tommy's values and commitment more evident than in the fight for sensible gun laws. About six years ago, he assumed the role of President of Washington Ceasefire, a statewide organization promoting stricter gun laws for the State of Washington. To say Tommy was passionate about gun control is an understatement.

Some of my happiest memories of Tommy are sitting with him on the porch on summer evenings in Maine, sipping Tommy's favorite Jack Daniels and strategizing on how to beat the NRA.

Almost as much as he hated to lose football game after football game here at Milton (and despite Reverand Cleveland's coaching efforts, we managed to lose a bunch), Tommy hated losing to the NRA. After the tragic massacre at Columbine High School, he expressed the outrage we all felt and urged all citizens to take action. Tommy could not sit by and let 30,000 Americans die each year from gun violence - far more than all the other industrialized nations of the world combined. Tommy was committed to stopping the epidemic.
Last spring, Tommy gave his first, and unfortunately his last, college graduation speech at a community college outside Seattle. The speech was vintage Tommy and, boy, was he proud of it.

In it he said: "…our paramount duty is not to see how many cars we can have in the garage, how many square feet of air conditioned space we've got in our house, how exclusive our country club is.
Under every ethical and religious precept in the history of the world - Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Lutheran, you name it - under every one, the paramount duty is to leave the world a better place than we found it; to leave our children a better, fairer, healthier planet than we received from our parents."
Events of the past few weeks have sadly shaken our faith in the ability of our generation to succeed in fulfilling that duty. But make no mistake, Tommy never stopped doing his part and never lost faith.
Tommy was not afraid to take on controversy and stand up for what he believed. He always "dared to be true".

Good bye my friend! We love you!