Eulogy for Mary Jo

My dear friend Mary Jo Claugus was taken from us on October 3, 2021. I had found out only two days prior how ill she really was. She was gone too fast, too soon. What a loss – what a hole in our hearts!

I met Mary Jo 30 years ago at the brokerage firm where we both worked for decades, Gilder Gagnon Howe & Co. I was a sales assistant at that time and she the executive secretary to the firm’s founder, Richard Gilder. Her warmth and professionalism impressed all who interacted with her.

Mary Jo knew that I had studied German, and had an interest in German culture. (This interest was sparked both by my German heritage and by the research I had done for my World War II romance novel, In the Arms of the Enemy.) She and I, along with a couple of other friends, regularly attended the annual German-American Steuben Day Parade in New York City. While I would be casually attired in a Deutscher Fussball-Bund tee shirt and jeans, the always classy Mary Jo could be counted on to wear a sophisticated outfit in the tricolors of the German flag – black pants, gold top and red blazer. A coordinating silk scarf and tasteful jewelry were her usual accoutrements. Lunch at a German restaurant always followed. She and I shared German ancestry, and Mary Jo relished good times and good company, along with her schnitzel and schnapps.

Mary Jo’s keen eye for spotting items that would bring pleasure to others led to my trip several years ago to Dresden and Berlin. Her boss, Mr. Gilder, had received an invitation from the Massachusetts Historical Society to their historian-guided expedition to those two German cities. (Mr. Gilder was an enthusiastic benefactor of various cultural, historical and educational institutions.) Risking the infinitesimal chance that her boss would be interested in the tour package for himself, Mary Jo snuck me the brochure and I excitedly booked the trip. If not for her thoughtfulness, I might never have had the opportunity to enjoy such an exclusive and unforgettable vacation.

Always considerate and attuned to the passions of others, Mary Jo often bestowed “no-occasion-just-because-I-love-you” gifts on friends and family. Early on in the years-long process of trying to get my novel published, she presented me with a refrigerator magnet depicting a 1940’s-style amorous couple with the caption, “She sensed a bestseller.” Though my refrigerator is nearly covered in magnets, “bestseller” is one of my favorites, and it always reminds me of Mary Jo’s kindness and encouragement.

Mary Jo and I shared a zeal for history – among her cherished institutions were the New-York Historical Society and the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History – and she happily indulged my obsession with Major John André (see my October 2 blog post for more about him). On one of my weekend visits to her home in Tarrytown, she took me to the Major’s major sites in the area – the monument in Tarrytown at the place of his capture, and across the Hudson River to André’s memorial in Tappan where I laid a flower for the dear Major. Mary Jo hugged me at that moment, intuiting how moved I was to pay my respects at the spot where he died. Our day together was capped off with dinner at The ‘76 House; when I stepped away from the table momentarily she secretly ordered their “Major André” cocktail for me.  On another occasion we dined at the Tarrytown House Estate, where she gleefully surprised me by pointing out André’s portrait in the lobby of the adjacent hotel. It pleased and excited her just to share this with me – that was trademark Mary Jo, finding joy in bringing joy to others.

When someone we love passes, or when we express condolences to a friend who has lost someone close, the ubiquitous human response is to offer platitudes – good words – eulogies. “He was very kind.” “Truly a warm and giving person.” “She was such a devoted sister-mother-grandmother.” “His smile lit up the room.” “She will be dearly missed.”

So when the one we have lost IS truly kind, generous, devoted, funny, warm, brilliant, extraordinary… those platitudes sound like clichés. The “good words” we always say when we’ve nothing but mere words. But for my treasured friend Mary Jo, I mean them emphatically! She was one of the kindest, most generous, most devoted, funniest, warmest, most brilliant, most extraordinary people who have touched my life.

Rest in peace, dear friend.

JOHN ANDRÉ – THE CONTROVERSIAL HERO

On the 241st anniversary of his tragic death, allow me to introduce John André, a compelling historical figure, and the subject of my study for many years.

Major John André, a British army officer during the American Revolution, was a beloved hero to his country, though a villain to many Americans. Serving as Adjutant General to the army, he was a favorite aide of the Commander-in-Chief of British forces in America, General Sir Henry Clinton, and headed his intelligence service.

André is forever linked to the most despised traitor in American history, General Benedict Arnold. Embittered by petty grievances and reprimanded by General Washington for dubious business dealings as military commander in Philadelphia, Arnold sought out the British for gold. He demanded the equivalent of one million dollars in today’s money in exchange for betraying West Point, a crucial military fortification, to the British. After petitioning Washington for command of the fort, Arnold schemed to deliver the plans of West Point to the enemy. This would hand the British an important strategic advantage, and perhaps ensure victory for the Crown.

André and Arnold began a correspondence, through coded messages and go-betweens, to negotiate terms for the betrayal. Beyond his exorbitant monetary demands, Arnold wanted to retain his rank as general, but in the British army. The two met in secret on the shore of the Hudson River near the coveted fortress. Fatally for André, the British vessel, which delivered him to the rendezvous and was to return him to the safety of New York, was fired upon by the Americans and forced to sail away without him. André was now compelled to return to his post by passing through enemy lines, disguised as a civilian, with the plans to the fort tucked into his boot. Before reaching the safety of British-held territory, he was captured by suspicious American militiamen, searched and delivered to Continental commanders.

When Arnold got wind of the capture, he fled, just ahead of the pursuing Americans who now realized his duplicity. André alone was left to face the consequences. A military court found him guilty of being a spy and sentenced him to hang.

André was more than a military man; he was a poet, musician, actor and artist and was loved by his colleagues. His commander, General Clinton, was crushed by his death, and a grateful King George III ordered a memorial to André erected in Westminster Abbey.

What makes André’s story poignantly tragic and compelling is his character, and the remarkable relationship he developed with his captors. In the days between his arrest and execution, the American officers who guarded him were impressed by his civility, candor and bravery. Major Benjamin Tallmadge, Washington’s chief of intelligence, declared that had André “been tried by a court of ladies, he is so genteel, handsome and polite a young gentleman that I am confident they would have acquitted him.”

Witnesses who attended the execution testified to his courage and composure. Moments before he fixed the hangman’s noose around his own neck, André called Tallmadge forward and they warmly shook hands. Tallmadge would later write in his memoirs, “I became so deeply attached to Major André that I can remember no instance where my affections were so fully absorbed in any man.” Even Washington, whose hand shook when he signed the death warrant, conceded that André was “more unfortunate than criminal, an accomplished man and gallant officer.”

André remains a controversial figure. There is no denying that he acted as a spy, by disguising himself in civilian clothes within enemy lines and carrying incriminating documents. His connection with Arnold’s treason will forever taint his reputation on this side of the Atlantic. Some historians consider him an arrogant, manipulative and calculating schemer, motivated more by ambition than by a sense of duty to his king.

It is difficult to judge the motivations and character of a historical figure from the distance of over 240 years. Though I am but an amateur historian, from my research I contend that André was an honorable man, motivated by patriotism and the chance for military acclaim. Colonel Alexander Hamilton’s words perhaps sum up the feelings of the Americans who got to know André and regretted his death. "Never perhaps did any man suffer death with more justice, or deserve it less."

Young, handsome and brave, André exemplified the tragic hero. One witness described his execution as “a tragical scene of the deepest interest,” his grave at the foot of the gallows “consecrated by the tears of thousands.” Remarkably, those were the tears of his enemies.