Fifty years later, SU graduate remembers alumnus Sam Farr, whose death came too soon

On the day after we arrived, I saw his signs: “You can go far with Sam Farr. Elect Sam Farr Governor of Boys’ State.”

And, of course, we did.

I really didn’t start to know Farr until around 14 months later when we were both freshmen at Syracuse University. Farr seemed a lot older than the rest of us. While most of us did have at least some facial hairs, they were still pretty much countable. But Farr’s 5 o’clock shadow looked like it had been applied with charcoal, and it seemed to appear much earlier in the day. But the first big difference was that while the rest of us were scanning the freshman directory for dates (a practice many of us continued for four years!), Farr was already married.

Farr and Pam had rented an upstairs flat and had turned it completely around. Most people would have used the front room with the fireplace as a living room. Farr and Pam had turned it into a bedroom. Their living room ended up where most folks would have put their bedroom.

When Syracuse winters were at their worst, we did spend time in their living room. But most of the time we spent together was in the rocking chairs on their screened front porch. That’s where we listened to that “country boy whose home was somewhere between Painted Post, Horseheads and Big Flats.” That’s where he told us how he helped deliver calves; and that’s where he introduced us to the writing of H.L. Mencken and George S. Patton.

So it really wasn’t much of a surprise that in our senior year the Chief Justice of the Student Court was Farr. And it really wasn’t much of a surprise that the Student ROTC Corps Commander was Farr. It didn’t surprise me at all that Farr was admitted to Duke Law School. Or that he later served as a Captain in Vietnam.

When I heard he had returned safely and was practicing law, I smiled. For, although Farr had never told me this, I knew, without question, one day he would be elected Governor of New York state.

One day I opened up the SU Alumni Magazine and saw his name. Farr had died at 37. At first I was too stunned to cry. So I just sat there until the tears finally streamed down my cheeks.

It is now 50 years since we graduated. Sometimes when I think about Farr, my eyes still start to get a little misty. Maybe it’s because Farr was my first real introduction to our own mortality. Maybe it’s because I believe we all really would have gone far with Sam Farr. Maybe it’s just that I still miss “Old Sam.”

Bob Gerber
Syracuse University, Class of 1962
Greensboro, N.C.