Died August 23, 2008
College: Pierson
Children: Natalie, 1965; Christopher, 1969
Our classmate, Richard A. Mashburn, died on August 23, 2008 in his home city of Cincinnati, Ohio.
I was one of Dick’s four roommates at Yale, together with Joe Blackmer, Charlie Keil, and Mike Holahan. We all called Dick “Mash,” and I remember Dick as sincere and fun-loving, perhaps depending on your point of view a little more on the formal side rather than loose and easy, a guy who always had a good heart and was kind and thoughtful. When we roommates had down time, Mike would read more deeply into the English literature that was his passion, Charlie would do jazz in every possible way including playing it on both bass and drums, Joe from Montana would grouse about New England weather (and women) with increasing eloquence and incisiveness, and I would play around with hi-fi and recording equipment and listen to Miles Davis. Mash’s version of down time was to shine his loafers by hand in a very relaxed and totally casual way yet with unalterable dedication and a display of true accomplishment. Such are my memories.
I spent only two hours with Mash in the fifty years since our graduation. I was in Cincinnati on business once in 1999, and we had dinner together. We talked about many things most of which were catch-up items, and I especially remember him telling me that he had deeply enjoyed serving on the Yale Club of Cincinnati Management Board (he was, I believe, President of that Yale Club for a year or two), and that he had been having health problems intermittently and continuously for several years. I was heartened to touch back in with him after many years, and we exchanged a few emails after we saw each other on some of the topics of our dinner conversation.
Dick died unexpectedly as he was in the process of preparing to move out of his own residence into a managed care facility. At that point his health was increasingly problematical.
He is survived by two loving children, a son Christopher and a daughter Natalie. May he Rest in Peace.
—by David Z. Levin