Missing George

My father passed away after a very long struggle with Alzheimer's. His wife had a ready made obituary for the eventuality of his passing. My siblings decided it didn't capture who my father was. I was elected to write our version. I sat down and wrote it in a night, inspired by creating a counterpoint to the dry listing of his professional achievements. It was a cathartic writing exercise.

George Atherton Chaffee, Jr. died February 6, 2021 from complications of Alzheimer’s. Born in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, to Frances and George A. Chaffee, on May 27, 1938, he spent his formative years in Warwick, Massachusetts.  George attended Northfield Mount Herman and obtained his Engineering & Applied Physics AB degree from Harvard University. 

George worked in the insurance business all of his life, starting as an adjuster with Kemper Insurance in Boston in 1961. He became Deputy Commissioner of the State of Vermont Banking & Insurance Department in 1977, introducing landmark legislation in 1981, creating the Vermont Captive Insurance industry. He went on to support several Risk Insurance start-ups  including Vermont Insurance Management and  SINSER Management Services. He finished his career  as senior vice president of administration at Hickok & Boardman Insurance Agency.

These are the facts of his life and illustrate his ability to navigate conformity in order to succeed.  His best life was spent skirting norms, much like his tattoos hidden behind starched collars and cuffs, to follow his passions, which were legion.

As a young man in Warwick, George started a lifelong love affair with engines with his first car - a 1937 Ford with “Death Dealers” painted on the rear fender. His fellow “Death Dealers” Cope and Rick, or the Deadly Three, marauded through backroads of Warwick and Athol, one step ahead of the local posse. Cars gave way to a passion for motorcycles. Weekends were spent at the Loudon, NH scrambles or tinkering on his beloved Bultacos. Racing segued to touring- including a memorable trip around the Gaspe Peninsula with his friend Harold. His heart expanded to include flying - both planes and ultralights. He delighted in buzzing his summer camp in Maple Corner for the amusement of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, dropping notes in a bottle into Curtis Pond to be retrieved by his audience as he flew off. 

His curiosity and intelligence were boundless. He was a lover of books and film. As a committed Gemini, he learned to prepare astrological charts for family and friends. He built his own plane. He retained a childhood passion for country western music, gleaned through his open window as sounds from the Warwick Inn wafted in. He would talk to anyone in an effort to understand the human condition- including the backwoods folk slaughtering a pig on the side of a road in Tennessee. This parade was punctuated by his constant observation that “life is rich.”

Happiest traveling solo, George accommodated a few people. He had two wives - Reta, 1955- 1976; and LouAnn, 1984 - 2021 and multiple other women sprinkled throughout his time on earth and across the tri-state area. He begat five children with Reta despite not having a particular fondness for “twidgets”. These children found ways to irritate his well developed sense of order by moving his pencils carefully arranged by length, or generally creating noise. He found his own way to irritate them in return by asking them to “hold still for just one more” photo taken with his cherished Leica. It wasn’t until later in life that George began to appreciate the enormity of this Chaffee legacy, and the good and not-so-good proclivities he passed on to his brood. 

He is survived by his wife of 37 years, LouAnn Chaffee, his brother Rufus Chaffee, and five children from a first marriage to sixth-grade baseball team compatriot, Reta Matthews Chaffee MacGregor: Susan Chaffee Hall (Robert), Arlon Chaffee (Peg), Sarah Chaffee (John Hoyt), Reta Chaffee (Andy Cadorette), and Abigail Chaffee Pandelena (Paul), eight grandchildren, numerous great-grandchildren, and many nieces and nephews.

His children will be holding a remembrance this summer at the Warwick cemetery, in the town he considered home, and where his parents and sister Susan are buried. His self-selected stone is a bench that invites all to “come sit with me.”