From Harvard to Hagerman

From Harvard to Hagerman

Myron Finkbeiner

Published by Borderline Publishing at Smashwords

Copyright Myron Finkbeiner 2012

To the family of Harry LeMoyne, especially sons, Harry and John and grandson Henri, for their contribution and support they gave the author during the writing of this biography. I hope they gained addititional insight into the amazing life of their father and grandfather. They should be proud of his spectacular athletic career and come to the realization, the distinctive heritage he left to them and the extended family.

INTRODUCTION

Harry Who? Famous Harry’s: Truman, Houdini, Belafonte, Potter? All fascinating personalities, but no! This is about an unknown Harry. This Harry is unwritten, invisible and obscure. This Harry was an adventurer, commoner, countryman and athlete. This is a story about a Harry that flew under the radar and was unknown to fame.

This Harry became a reality in the fall of 1996, while I was attending an International Sports Hall of Fame conference in Vancouver, B.C. At an opening dinner, I sat across the table from Buck Dawson, the Executive Director for the Swimming Hall of Fame in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Buck, reading my name tag, noticed I was from Idaho. After introductions and pleasantries, he remarked, Do you know we have an Idahoan in our Hall of Fame? I expressed my doubt, knowing Idaho isn’t widely known for producing swimmers and answered, No, I haven’t heard. Who could it be? Dawson answered, His name is Harry LeMoyne and he comes from a small community located on the banks of the Snake River. If I remember right, the village is known for their numerous fish hatcheries.

Growing up in Idaho and living here most of my life, I knew beyond any shadow of doubt, he was referring to the tiny hamlet of Hagerman, widely known for their trout production. I countered, Harry LeMoyne…..I’ve never heard of the guy! I probed further to learn more about this latent athlete. I asked myself, Who would have the necessary credentials from my home state to enter the prestigious Swimming Hall of Fame?

Returning home, I didn’t hesitate to learn more about a LeMoyne who called Hagerman his home. A quick phone call opened the door to a John LeMoyne. I assumed he might be a relative of the person in question. I asked for an audience with him in hopes of learning more about this undefined swimmer. John, who said he was the son of Harry, invited me to his home in Hagerman. I accepted the invitation and made the 120 mile journey from Nampa the very next day.

I soon learned that all the accolades Buck Dawson related to me in Vancouver were absolutely true. It took several trips to the attic to bring a treasure chest of newspaper clippings and sports memorabilia, all testifying to the amazing feats of this previously unknown swimming legend.

LeMoyne is a classic example of having an athletic career that’s been played out under the radar. He not only proved to be a superior athlete, but became a responsible family man, astute businessman and prominent civic leader. His concealed athletic career by his own choosing now becomes reality. His long, lost records that gathered dust in a remote Idaho attic is no longer a secret. I decided then and there, the stranger than fiction story must be told.

I’m proposing a premise that will raise a few eyebrows. I sincerely believe that Harry LeMoyne belongs in the upper echelon of last century’s elite All-Around Athletes. This book is an effort to showcase his many athletic accomplishments and defend his place alongside the Jim Thorpes and the Jim Browns of the world. After reading FROM HARVARD TO HAGERMAN, you decide!

PROLOGUE

I headed down a narrow gravel country lane until I reached the cemetery. It was a perfect place for peace and quiet. I was looking for a specific headstone. There it was, placed in a shady spot beneath a small willow tree, overlooking the pristine and beautiful Hagerman Valley, not far from the cascading falls of the scenic Thousand Springs. This was the final resting place of Harry LeMoyne, truly a man for all seasons.

The vestiges of his incredible athletic career and his occupational successes were observed in his later adult life, even into the ripe old age of 80, 85 and into his 90’s. His senior years brought the typical bad sight, hearing impairment and the awkwardness and slowness of the gait, but it didn’t inhibit his lifestyle and life-long interests.

Harry LeMoyne and the recent fitness guru, Jack LaLanne, had much in common -- not only their names are similar, but both possessed herculean strength in their old age. At age 70, LaLanne swam and pulled 70 people in 70 boats, over one mile through Long Beach Harbor. There are numerous documented stories of Harry’s feats of strength and critical decision-making processes. As the narrative is read, you will understand why Harry was a champion in his younger days.

Henri, a grandson, relates the following:

During my junior high years I had a few ewes, four I think. I lambed them one winter on our place north of Hagerman. When it came time to dock the lambs, Grandpa came out to show me the ropes. I had not worked the lambs when it should have been done in the spring and it was fall so the lambs were real big and wild. I had absolutely no facilities, not even a chute to run them in, just an enclosure that was too small to hold many sheep and way too big for a dumb kid to get a hold of the lambs without diving and grabbing a leg. We had a hell of a time cornering one big lamb, but I remember one event that stuck in my mind.

We were down to the last lamb, the oldest of the bunch, and apparently the quickest. He had eluded my grasp so far and I did not have a sheep hook or anything to work with. It was mostly a test to see who was in the best physical condition – the lamb or me. Grandpa and I finally had this buck lamb worn down a bit and sort of cornered. I crept in toward the lamb and he bolted by me knocking me off balance and in the process his hind leg got out of my grasp. He had gotten away again when Grandpa reached out with one hand and clamped down on the wool of his back. Grandpa actually lifted that lamb (about 120 lbs. or so) off the ground with one arm and we got the job done. Believe me I never forgot that because I never wanted him to be frustrated enough with me to grab me with that meat hook of a hand.

Getting older doesn’t always mean losing strength. At age 60, Harry was still so strong that he grabbed a 300 pound Ramboillet ram by the horns and dragged him from the loading pen up the chute into a waiting box car. Usually it’s the other way around, with the ram dragging the man!

Later in life another incident illustrated his might and athletic skill. Again, grandson Henri related the following story: One spring afternoon Dave Glauner and Larry Condit were practicing their form with the 12 pound shot put. Grandpa lived just west of the High School football field and was apparently out walking the school track. At the same time, Dave went through his windup, which apparently did not go that well, and the iron ball went well off the target and dangerously close to Grandpa.

The rest of the story comes from Dave, as told to Henri: The shot rolled near the old man, scaring him as well as me. Just as I started to run over to retrieve the shot, the senior citizen leaned down, picked it up and threw it all the way back to me. Dave and Larry were tremendously impressed. They had no idea who at 81 could still put the shot at an unbelievable distance. Grandpa went back to his walk as if nothing happened. He let the results do the talking.

We have all enjoyed watching athletes who are able to make things happen. These performers have skills in common. They are excellent decision makers in time of pressure. A quarterback with four hulking linemen on the chase and four possible routes taken by his receivers in four different directions---talk about hasty decisions. You better do it right or suffer the consequences! As the long-time Justice of the Peace for Hagerman, Idaho, LeMoyne always did it correctly, thanks to his experiences on the field, in the shot put ring, and in the pool.

In later life, Harry often reflected back to his glory days at Stone School and the accolades that came with successes at Harvard. He knew those experiences shaped him into the person he became and was a precursor to a triumphant life.

As a successful businessman, an adept civil servant, and an honorable husband and parent, it’s reasonable to assume those accomplishments were a tribute to his victories in the pool and conquests on the gridiron. LeMoyne proved that a successful career in competitive sport will have a carry-over in later life.

The reader will learn of his triumphs, but also understand that it went significantly deeper than the wins, losses, trophies and press clippings. It was about testing one’s limits and building a future. That’s the message of Harry LeMoyne. Enjoy the read.

Chapter 1

HARRY’S HERITAGE

Father, do not exasperate your children…. Ephesians 6:4

LeMoyne’s roots go back to Quebec, Canada. His father, McPherson LeMoyne, was born in Montreal, Canada, and came from Scotch and French ancestry. His Great, Great Grandfather, Jean, came to the new world from France. The family home was a picturesque manor on the Island of the Crane on the St. Lawrence River reportedly ceded to the family by Louis VI. At an older age, when living in the states, Harry would often return to the family estate to swim and race schooners on the St Lawrence.

McPherson was an immense man. His claim to fame was his ability to crack walnuts between his thumb and forefinger of his right hand. Surely, Harry got his strength from his Dad.

Economically, the Civil War was not a contest between equals. The South had no factories to produce guns and ammunition. Often, Confederate soldiers had to buy their own weapons and even scavenge the battlefields for leftovers. McPherson LeMoyne made a fortune during the Civil War selling ammunition and guns to the Confederates. From this income he was able to own the first rope ferry across the St. Lawrence.

In the late 1870’s, McPherson suddenly, and apparently with no valid reason, left Montreal for Boston and became an American citizen on February 19, 1881. Later a family member of Harry’s brother, Charles, asked him the reason for the move. He answered, For better business opportunities in the Boston banking world. It seems strange that the eldest son of a prominent Canadian family, who had everything to gain, would leave his ancestral home for a new life in another country.

Later, the real reason for the move would surface through family discussions. It seemed McPherson left under a cloud as the black sheep of the Montreal family. It was learned that he was excommunicated from the Catholic Church for defying his local priest. As part of his confession about indiscretions with a local young lady, the priest told him that for a sum of money his sins would be forgiven. The amount was just enough to finish paying for the new rectory for the church. It was at least enough for McPherson to claim the young lady may have been an eyeful, but not that good looking. He told the priest he would not pay and the priest threatened excommunication. McPherson held his threat and was banished from the church. Even in Catholic Montreal, a rich banker and one from an elite family couldn’t survive a church ruling.

It didn’t take McPherson long to enter Boston’s high society. He joined the proper clubs, the Episcopal Church, and began working for a highly respectable bank. About that time, a group of wealthy men from the Boston area established the first country club in the United States. The location was Brookline, a suburb of Boston. The club encouraged wealthy families to move away from the city and its problems. It was here that the LeMoyne family settled in. Brookline had all the amenities McPherson looked for in a community to raise his family. The Country Club offered exclusivity, although wealth was necessary, it didn’t guarantee membership. One had to be invited to join. This allowed the elite to exclude people whose social status didn’t meet the Club’s model – one being a member of the Catholic Church. Now that McPherson was excommunicated, it was possible for him to gain membership. Brookline fortunately had a famous swim club, where later, son Harry would become a celebrated member.

Harry’s father was very Victorian and proper. He was never seen in the home without a coat and tie. Every meal was a formal event, complete with fine china and linen napkins. The formality carried over into family relationships. There was never a hug or kiss, even a peck on the cheek. Seldom was there an expression or use of the word love from father to children. This partially explained McPherson’s attitude when Charlie and Harry preferred sports over academics. Participating in athletic competion to McPherson was on the edge of being sinful. He postulated playing football or tossing a weighted ball around was a waste of time. He often asked, How were these foolish skills going to help you in transacting a business deal? Instead he felt his children should be schooled in French and English. He also assumed it was important in preparation for college to attend a prestigious Prep school.

The final act that positioned the LeMoynes into Boston’s upper crust took place on May 6, 1875. McPherson took as his bride a lady from an established family, Mary Brooks Brigham. She was born in Boston, her parents being representative of one of the old and most prominent New England families. Her father was credited to being one of the founders of the Republican Party. She was a first cousin of Phillips Brooks, the noted Episcopalian Rector. He was said to be the most distinguished and honorable preacher and best loved clergyman of his time. (He’s best known as the writer of the favorite Christmas carol, O Little Town of Bethlehem.) He later became the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts.

The extended LeMoyne family had a close relationship with the now famous Kennedy clan. They were neighbors in Brookline and shared in social activities. One of Harry’s sister’s descendents even married into the Kennedy family. Later, Bob Kennedy, the Attorney General, named their son after the LeMoynes. Michael LeMoyne Kennedy became a part of the so-called Kennedy curse, when he was tragically killed in a freakish skiing accident while on vacation in Aspen, Colorado. Witnesses saw the young Kennedy