Rob Farnham shares some thoughts:
It was an instrument utilized during his habit of hiking the Adirondacks in and around Keene Valley, NY, the summer haunt of William James. He brought it to my attention after a tutorial session on James our Senior year. The unit was a sophisticated compass able to be fastened on a tripod and essentially used to site boundary lines, as well as, provide ordinary bearings. I knew he hiked. He asked if I wanted to buy it as he did not utilize it much. I asked, “How much?” and he replied,” $15”. Even in 1971 it was worth multiples of that and I said , “Yes”. It was not the money he desired, but this offering enabled him to share something of mutual interest (hiking) while retaining a respectable relationship between student and professor.
Larry Beals was like that. Tradition oriented and a caring man who lacked the narcissism of a high-profile professor at an elite school. You would not think he was captain of the track team at Williams in 1929, his year of graduation, as his demeanor was anything but that of a competitive individual.
In December of 1986, I received a note from his wife, Betty, with a copy of the tribute given by Robert G.L. Waite (Williams History Professor, 1949-1999) in the Thompson Memorial Chapel on October 29th at the memorial service upon his death. I had not attended. True to Waite’s concise assessments, he stated Larry was “… a good man; a jolly companion; a thoughtful host; a loyal friend.” He went on to say, “He was an honest man. Direct without guile … and let you know where he stood on any issue.” Knowing Professor Waite as one not to sugar-coat the description of any individual, I find his sentiments true to my experience and what I believed Professor Beals to represent as a person.
Larry taught at Williams from 1933-1972 and upon retirement was named the College’s archivist. In the note, his wife remarked about my observation that James came before Santayana where they knew each other at Harvard ( Larry completed his doctorate there in 1933). She noted this was true and that as Larry got older he “philosophized” that Santayana was an old man’s philosopher and he really enjoyed him. She added, “In no other way did Larry show his age.” Indeed, I believe he was young at heart, a keen observer of the human condition and filled his life with the ruminations of his mind and the teaching of his students. Now, being an older man, I must take the time to understand what Professor Beals meant regarding Santayana, while also appreciating what an unexpected exploration Larry’s memory provides.