Frank Wright Neely September 10, 1939 – April 13, 2017
Frank “Wright” Neely, 77, of Urbana, passed away on April 13, 2017, at Champaign County Nursing Home. A memorial service will be held on Friday, May 5 at 4:00 p.m. at Renner-Wikoff Chapel and Crematory, 1900 S. Philo Rd., Urbana.
Mr. Neely was born September 10, 1939, in Amarillo, Texas, to parents Mark Edward and Lottie (Wright) Neely. They preceded him in death. Wright is survived by three children: Sophia Neely (and partner Suzanne Schoeneweiss), of Chicago, Illinois; Mark Neely (and wife Jill Christman) of Muncie, Indiana; and Juliet Neely Henigman (and husband Alan) of Savoy. He is also survived by: his brother, Mark E. Neely Jr. (and wife Sylvia), of State College, Pennsylvania; his former wife, Carol Thomas Neely, of Champaign; and his grandchildren, Craig, Ella, Henry, Levi, and Maya.
Wright attended Yale University, where he earned his PhD in 1967. He taught philosophy at the University of Illinois for 40 years before retiring. His influential article, “Freedom and Desire,” appeared in The Philosophical Review in 1974. Wright was an amateur magician, lover of classical music, movie buff, and avid reader of mysteries, poetry, and books on subjects ranging from physics and cognitive science to history and linguistics.
Freedom and Desire
an article by Wright Neely in The Philosophical Review,vol.83, pp.32-54, 1974
when Charles and I called,
enquired how’s he doing
the nurse said, wait a minute,
I’ll see
when she returned to the phone
dead was all she said
the last time I saw Wright
we drank coffee
in a local McDonalds
my wife snapped our picture
he told me he hadn’t needed me
for fifty years and saw no reason now
to re-establish our friendship
which had consumed us
from about fourteen until thirty
debate partner, Yale roomie
member of each other’s
wedding party
he continued to smoke
had quit drinking years ago
his literary famous wife divorced
he retired quietly to the comfort
of a posh old folks’ home
organized a poetry group
to whom he read his son’s poems
one daughter visited occasionally
we never learned whether calamity
or neglect made him the county’s ward
he died alone in the county’s rest home
a 19th century poorhouse
the three of us: Wright, Charles, and I
shared every young man’s dreams
played bridge, drank coffee
rode around on the weekends
without dates as we were
eggheads and didn’t know
how to attract the young ladies
we sometimes talked about
when we weren’t debating
education, theology, or other
important topics avoiding
our hormones and loneliness
we were the epitome
of Freedom and Desire