d.m. Lionel Casson

From the New York Times:

Lionel Casson, who melded his mastery of classical literature with the findings of underwater archaeology in scholarly but accessible books about the history of ancient seafaring, from the primitive dory to the vast armadas of the Roman Empire, died July 18 in Manhattan. He was 94.

The cause was pneumonia, his daughter Andrea Casson said.

Drawing from an array of sources — the writings of the historian Thucydides and the speeches of Demosthenes; cargo manifests kept by unknown captains; images of ships on sculptures; the dating and typing of timbers taken from sunken vessels — Dr. Casson’s gracefully written books traced the trade routes that bound the ancient world and described the early evolution of shipbuilding and naval warfare.

A particularly useful source for Dr. Casson were amphorae, the earthenware freight containers of antiquity that carried products like honey, olive oil, wine, frankincense and myrrh from port to port. Markings preserved on many amphorae identified not only the point of embarkation but the year and the month.

Dr. Casson, a professor of classics at New York University from 1961 to 1979, wrote 23 books on Greek and Latin literature and the maritime history of the ancient Western world.

In one of his best-known works, “The Ancient Mariners: Seafarers and Sea Fighters of the Mediterranean in Ancient Times” (Macmillan, 1959), he wrote of the Egyptians, Minoans, Mycenaeans, Phoenicians, Greeks and Romans and how they ventured from timid voyages hugging the coasts to bold dashes across open seas.

He described how maritime commerce progressed from nearby exchanges to an integrated network stretching from the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas to shores as distant as Britain and India. With commerce and politics fomenting rivalries, warships evolved from flat-bottomed rowboats into leviathans bearing hundreds of oarsmen and warriors. The Athenian trireme, for example, was a war galley with 170 oars arranged in three banks; rowing was synchronized to the piping of a flutist.

“A trireme could sprint at a seven-knot speed or spin about in little more than its own length,” the book says. “Despite its size and power, it was light and shallow enough for the crew to run it up on a beach” so crew members could cook, eat and sleep on shore.

But there were even larger ships in the ancient world, the “supergalleys” built by Egyptian pharaohs and their Macedonian rivals. One, built by Ptolemy IV, Dr. Casson wrote, “was over 400 feet long and 50 feet wide; the figureheads on the prow and stern towered more than 70 feet above the water, and there were no less than 4,000 rowers manning its benches.”

Dr. Casson did not limit himself to ancient maritime history. His 1964 book “Illustrated History of Ships and Boats” (Doubleday) traces water travel from the days when men floated across a river on an inflated animal skin to the days of steel-skinned nuclear submarines.

Dr. Casson also published “Libraries in the Ancient World” (Yale University Press, 2001). By piecing together findings from archaeological digs, references from literary texts and even epitaphs relating to libraries, he offered a succinct view of the development of reading, writing and book collecting in Mesopotamia, Greece and the Roman Empire. He sprinkled the book with amusing asides, including all-time best-seller-list assessments. “Homer led by a wide margin, with the ‘Iliad’ favored over the ‘Odyssey,’” he wrote.

In 2005, Dr. Casson received the Gold Medal Award for Distinguished Archaeological Achievement from the Archaeological Institute of America.

Born in Brooklyn on July 22, 1914, Lionel I. Cohen (he later changed his name to Casson) was one of two sons of Abraham and Bess Cohen. His father owned a lumberyard.

Besides his daughter Andrea, he is survived by his wife of 63 years, the former Julia Michelman; another daughter, Gail Casson; and two grandchildren.

Dr. Casson received his bachelor’s degree in 1934, his master’s degree in 1936 and his doctorate in 1939, all from New York University, and was hired as an instructor at N.Y.U. In World War II, he served as a Navy officer, interrogating Japanese prisoners of war.

Andrea Casson said that when her father was a teenager, he and a friend bought a small sailboat and soon began plying the waters of Long Island Sound. In 1952, while teaching at N.Y.U., he received a Guggenheim Fellowship. It allowed him to study ancient maritime commerce and spend a year examining the site of every important ancient harbor on the European coast of the Mediterranean and most of those on the coasts of Asia and Africa.

The majesty of masts and billowing sails enraptured him throughout his life. When replicas of the Niña, Pinta and Santa Maria made their way below the towers of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in July 1992, in observance of the 500th anniversary of Columbus’s discovery of America, Dr. Casson was standing on the shore of New York Harbor.

“They looked fine, until they dropped their sails,” he said. “Then they kept on moving, and you realized they had motor power.”

d.m. Edith Kovach

From the Detroit Free Press:

Thousands of Latin students around the country learned the language from the voice of someone they never met: former educator Edith Kovach.

Her enthusiasm and dedication in her Latin and Greek teachings endeared her in the hearts and minds of students and faculty alike.

A onetime chairwoman of the University of Detroit’s classical studies department and a longtime instructor in the Detroit Public Schools, Ms. Kovach died Wednesday of cardiac arrest in her Bloomfield Hills home. She was 88.

“Without a doubt, teaching was her passion and knowledge was the reward,” said her longtime friend, Alice McIntyre. “She had a marvelous ability for bringing all classic arts and languages together so that people developed a depth of understanding and a genuine appreciation.”

Ms. Kovach was a nationally recognized figure in the development of methods to teach Latin and Greek at both the high school and college levels, and conducted frequent summer workshops and seminars at college campuses around the country.

Fluent in Spanish and German, she was instrumental in the improvement of the drill tapes and tests she helped develop for Macmillan & Co. to accompany Latin textbooks. As a result, her voice became a familiar learning tool for students around the country.

Born in New York City, she graduated from Central High School in Detroit and received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in Latin and foreign language education, respectively, from Wayne State University. She received her PhD in classical studies and Latin from the University of Michigan.

Ms. Kovach began her career as a language and math teacher in the Detroit Public Schools. She taught for more than 20 years and chaired the foreign language department at Mumford High School.

After going to work at what was then the University of Detroit in 1965, she was responsible for many improvements within the department. She was awarded the school’s President’s Award for Excellence in Teaching in 1984 — the first woman to be so honored.

Survivors include her brother, Eugene Kovach, and several nieces and nephews.

d.m. Bob Mitchell

From Wicked Local Newton:

Former students remember Bob Mitchell as much for his stories and mystery that surrounded him as for the language they learned from him.

“He was one of the most brilliant people I have ever met, and also by far the most enigmatic,” said Arielle Weisman, who graduated from North in 2003 and took classes with Mitchell for four years. Weisman is teaching English in Spain and responded to questions via e-mail. “I mentioned before that he was enigmatic. I say this because unlike other teachers, who you could well imagine went home to their families at night, ate dinner and went to bed, what Mr. Mitchell did in his free time was beyond us. He spoke/read over 20 languages and had the most bizarre stories from every corner of the globe.”

The Newton North High School Latin teacher died May 27 after battling melanoma. He was 60.

Weisman said Mitchell would often share his globetrotting adventures with his students, but details about his more recent personal life were hard to get. Until last week, Weisman said she didn’t know Mitchell had cancer.

“I’m thankful to have been able to talk to him one last time to make sure he knew that he was, still is and forever will be my favorite,” she said.

Mitchell started teaching at North in 1990. Principal Jennifer Price said Mitchell left the school on March 23, two months before his death.

Like Weisman, 2003 North graduate Lincoln Brody, who is also teaching English in Spain, found out about Mitchell’s cancer shortly before his death. Brody sent Mitchell a letter thanking him for everything he taught him, but it may not have arrived before his death.

“His teaching style was rigorous, intense, often frantic and always with total passion and a sense of humor,” Brody wrote in an e-mail.

In his letter to Mitchell, Brody thanked his former teacher for instilling a passion for learning in him.

“Just as important for me was the constant exposure to your unbridled enthusiasm for learning and knowledge as was the actual material we learned. This attitude, this spirit, is something that I treasure to this day, and for which I largely have you to thank,” he wrote. “So thank you for everything you’ve shared with me, from your daily quips to your bottomless digressions, to the impeccably detailed story you told our AP study group, on the night before the exam, of how you got struck by lightning one muggy summer afternoon while dancing like Fred Astaire on a construction site.”

Nathan Guttman, a 2003 North grad who now lives in Los Angeles, remembered how Mitchell’s story about being struck by lightning made him feel better before his Latin Advanced Placement exam his junior year.

“Everybody was exhausted from work and nervous for the exam. Mr. Mitchell stopped our translating about 20 minutes before the end of class and proceeded to tell a captivating, uproarious story about how he was once struck by lightning while doing a Gene Kelly dance on top of a Big Dig concrete pylon,” Guttman wrote in an e-mail. “The class listened in rapt attention as Mr. Mitchell described time slowing down and the world turning slightly green as the debris around him lifted into the air from the shock of the lightning strike.

“Mr. Mitchell realized it was he who had been struck by lightning when the umbrella he was holding — ‘Of course I had an umbrella. How else would you do “Singing in the Rain”?’ — shot out of his hand and landed 20 feet away.”

When students asked what he did, Guttman said Mitchell told the class he picked up his umbrella.

Along with his stories, students said Mitchell’s class could be tough. He assigned numerous lines of translation every night and expected them to be completed.

“To be honest, there were always a few students in Mr. Mitchell’s classes who didn’t particularly love Latin or the workload, but simply loved Mr. Mitchell too much to ever drop the class,” said Guttman.

Like his students, Mitchell’s colleagues sensed his passion for learning.

“We suffered a huge loss, but he’d want the celebration to go on and to honor achievement. He believed so much in the teaching and learning of foreign language,” said Nancy Marrinucci, head of the foreign language department at North. “He used to say it was part of a liberal arts education, and it allowed students to more fully participate in the world.”

One former student, Marrinucci said, compiled a collection of “Mitchellisms.”

d.m. Douglas Little

From the Otago Daily Times:

Dr Douglas Little, an influential classics teacher who retired from the University of Otago classics department as an associate professor in 1987, has died in Dunedin after a long illness.

He was in his mid-70s.

Dr Little, who at one stage was the department’s only New Zealand-born staff member, had earlier graduated from Otago University with an MA(Hons) in Latin and German and an honours degree in Greek, before gaining a PhD in classics at the University of Texas, in Austin.

Having earlier served as an assistant lecturer, he returned to the Otago classics staff as a senior lecturer in 1975, after completing his doctorate.

[n.b. the ODT promised a proper obituary ‘to follow’, but it doesn’t seem to have made it to the web ~ dm]

d.m. Richard T. Scanlan

From the News-Gazette:

Friends and colleagues remembered Richard Thomas Scanlan as an enthusiastic and outstanding teacher who brought the world of Latin and classical mythology to life for a generation of University of Illinois students.

Mr. Scanlan, 81, of Champaign, died at 1:14 a.m. Sunday at Carle Foundation Hospital in Urbana.

Funeral arrangements were incomplete at Morgan Memorial Home, 1304 Regency Drive West, Savoy.

“He was a legendary teacher,” said David Sansone, head of the Classics Department at the UI. “For years and years, undergraduates at the UI felt they had to take his course.

“The UI experience wasn’t complete without taking Scanlan’s course. There were students who enjoyed the class so much that they convinced their sons, daughters and even grandchildren to take his course.”

According to Sansone, Mr. Scanlan had to teach his class at Foellinger because it was the only venue large enough to handle 1,200 students at a time.

“Even at 1,200 students, each year we would get requests from students wanting to get in his class even though the class was closed,” Sansone said.

As a professor of the classics, Mr. Scanlan was known for disappearing from the lecture platform in the middle of class, only to return a few minutes later dressed as a toga-clad priest of Apollo, the Greek god of prophecy.

“He had Apollo predicting UI football or basketball games, depending upon the season,” recalled Professor Emeritus James Dengate.

After the students enthusiastically chanted the “I-L-L, I-N-I” cheer, Mr. Scanlan would appear deep in thought and then turn to the class.

“Now I can see it clearly,” he said. “Minnesota 14 … Illinois 31.”

At other times, Mr. Scanlan would emerge as Jason of the Golden Fleece, the shrewd Odysseus or even the mighty Hercules. His character would then be interviewed for the students by a teaching assistant.

In 1979, he convinced 12 female UI students to come to his Roman civilization class dressed in white to perform the dance of the vestal virgins.

Mr. Scanlan’s enthusiasm for the Illini was rewarded in 1981 when he was crowned as “King Dad” during the UI’s Dads Day celebration.

News-Gazette staff writer Paul Wood, who took several of Mr. Scanlan’s classes, described him as “a great guy.”

“He was very entertaining, and I learned a lot, too,” Wood said. “He taught a civilization class that was the most popular course on campus at the time. More people know more about the classics from him than from anybody else.”

University of Illinois spokeswoman Robin Kaler recalled sneaking in on Mr. Scanlan’s classes from time to time.

“I was registered for a different class, but sometimes I would skip my class to go to his class instead,” Kaler said. “He truly was that good.”

For many years, Mr. Scanlan was in charge of the Illinois State Latin Contest.

“He wrote a comic strip featuring a superhero called Superlegatus who acted and thought in Latin,” Wood said. “He was widely known for making learning fun.”

When Superlegatus wasn’t leaping over mountains in a single bound, the Latin-speaking hero kept himself busy saving his girlfriend from monsters.

Wood said Mr. Scanlan also pioneered the use of computers as a tool for teaching the Latin language.

Mr. Scanlan was also dedicated to his church, serving as a permanent deacon at St. Matthew Catholic Church in Champaign.

“He was very well-beloved by the people of the parish,” said St. Matthew pastor Monsignor Mark J. Merdian. “He applied the same demeanor and attitude in his preaching that was so popular as a teacher. Most of all, he was very kind and caring to everybody.”

Merdian described Mr. Scanlan as a great listener.

“When he preached, he had a way of telling great historical stories from the Bible and helping people to connect those lessons to their everyday life. Nobody was better than him in bringing the letters of St. Paul to life.”

In 2005, he received the Pere Marquette Award for outstanding service to his parish.

At St. Matthew, he taught adult education classes on the Old and New Testaments, the Passion narratives, the life and work of St. Paul and the Catechism of the Catholic Church. He was involved in Cursillo for more than 20 years, frequently visited hospitals and served as a former president of the parish council.