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Walter Leland Moody ’20 Died February 15, 2000 in Glendale. At Cal, he was a member of the Achaean Club (now Lambda Chi Alpha), the gymnastics team, architecture association, and the YMCA cabinet. He went on to study art and architecture at the American Academy in Rome, and earned numerous awards early in his career for his residential designs. He exercised his diverse abilities in projects for a number of architectural firms, MGM Movie Studios, and the Navy until signing on with Los Angeles architect Ralph Flewelling in 1945. In 1955, they formed the award-winning firm Flewelling & Moody, well-known for its school designs and commercial and residential projects. Some notable commissions include the First Methodist Church in Glendale and the Robert Frost Auditorium in Culver City. A long-time member of the American Institute of Architects and the California Association of Architects, he retired from practice in 1972. He is survived by his second wife, his sister, and numerous nieces and nephews.
Horace Barker Horace Albert Barker, one of the pre-eminent biochemists of the mid-20th century and professor emeritus at the University of California, died December 24 at his home in Berkeley. He was 93. Barker, who had a research building on campus named after him in 1988, is best known for his work in the late 1950s on the biochemical function of vitamin B-12—a major advance in understanding the complex chemical conversion processes inside living organisms. He also was a member of the team that in 1944 first discovered the enzymatic steps living cells take when they synthesize sucrose—common table sugar. This feat involved one of the first uses of radioactive carbon-14 tracers, which Barker helped pioneer.
His studies form a basic structure for much of our current understanding of metabolism and its role in sickness and health, and laid the foundation for our current understanding of the role of folic acid, one of the B vitamins.
He was a true leader in biochemistry and on campus, widely respected internationally and by his Berkeley colleagues. He was very self-effacing, but was the real core of the biochemistry department initially and as it developed. In the early days, when biochemistry was an embryonic science, he led a number of young scientists into pioneering new departments on the campus; today, the Department of Molecular and Cell Biology, the outcome of growth and ramification of the original biochemistry department, is the single largest undergraduate department on campus.
When Horace was recruiting me to the Berkeley faculty in the mid-60s, he pointed out the biochemistry building to me and —after noting that the building might be termed “architecturally impaired”—said, “Remember, Dan, you’ll be on the inside, looking out.” Little did he know at that time that the campus would honor his contributions by renaming that same building Barker Hall.
Beyond his scientific achievements, he was beloved by all for his great personal qualities and for his unselfishness toward the institutions he served and the colleagues with whom he worked. Barker was a kindly and considerate professor, about whom a student in his laboratory once wrote: “He teaches the course the way everyone imagines their favorite grandfather would do it.” An avid outdoorsman, he continued to hike and fish at his summer cabin near Mount Lassen into his 90s. He often would take eager graduate students salmon fishing out on the ocean; invariably they would return with horror stories of seasickness while Barker calmly kept catching fish through it all.
Born in Oakland and raised in Palo Alto, he received his A.B. in physical sciences in 1929 and a Ph.D. in chemistry in 1933 from Stanford University. After two years as a National Research Council Fellow at the Hopkins Marine Station in Monterey and a year at the Technical University of Delft, Holland, he came to Berkeley as an instructor in soil microbiology in 1936. He was appointed a full professor of soil microbiology in 1946, but switched titles periodically until 1959, when he became a professor in the new Department of Biochemistry.
He chaired the Department of Plant Nutrition in 1949-50, the Department of Plant Biochemistry from 1950 until 1953, and the Department of Biochemistry from 1962 until 1964. He retired as a professor emeritus of biochemistry in 1975, though he remained active in the department into his 80s.
Barker was elected to the National Academy of Sciences in 1953, authored or co-authored some 235 scholarly publications, and received several honorary doctoral degrees. He also was elected to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Among the awards he received during his career were the California Scientist of the Year award from the California Museum of Science and Industry in 1966 and the National Medal of Science in 1968. He is survived by his children Bob, Barbara ’59, and Betsy ’61, Ph.D. ’69; and four grandchildren.
— Remembered by Daniel E. Koshland Jr., professor emeritus of biochemistry
James Deetz It is early morning on the Berkeley campus, and I am about to enter the College Avenue building where the archaeologists in the anthropology department are housed. I glance eagerly along the porch of the historic building, looking for signs of smoke wafting up from the neatly planted hedge bushes. I then hear a familiar voice call my name, and into the morning light steps Jim Deetz, with cigarette in hand and a big smile. He is dressed in his trademark bola tie, brown western-cut jacket, favorite polyester shirt, high-tide pants with a generous glimpse of white socks, and black shoes. As a former student once noted, no natural fibers ever graced his wardrobe. Professor Deetz, world-renowned anthropologist and historical archaeologist, is having a few last puffs before walking over to Kroeber Hall to teach his very popular 8 a.m. class, American Material Culture.
My early morning meetings with Professor Deetz became a much-anticipated part of my day as a junior faculty member in anthropology. James Deetz taught at Berkeley from 1978 to 1994, and served as director of the Lowie Museum (now the Phoebe Hearst Museum of Anthropology) from 1979 to 1988. In 1994, he moved to the University of Virginia to be closer to his field sites, and continued to teach until his death, last November 23, at the age of 70. During his 16-year tenure at Berkeley, James Deetz epitomized what is really special about the University of California. He was a major figure in the history of American archaeology, a vibrant and innovative scholar who was one of the leading pioneers in the development of historical archaeology. And yet, despite his lionization within the discipline, he remained very humble and approachable, no matter if you were a freshman taking his course for the first time, an advanced graduate student working on a dissertation, or a young faculty member still learning the ropes.
James Deetz received his graduate training at Harvard University, completing his dissertation in 1960 on the changing social organization of the Arikara Indians of the northern Plains. He then turned his attention to the nascent field of historical archaeology, devoting much of his professional career to excavations at Plimoth Plantation in Massachussets, Flowerdew Hundred in Virginia, Eastern Cape Province in South Africa, and La Purisima Mission and the mining town of Somerville in California. While the theoretical questions he addressed varied widely, his basic approach was to demonstrate how the little, forgotten things of daily life, which were routinely recovered and analyzed by archaeologists, could provide a fuller, more balanced interpretation of the historical past than that obtained from archival documents alone. Employing this approach, he revolutionized our understanding of early British colonists in North America and their relations with Native Americans and African Americans. Professor Deetz undertook seminal studies on New England colonial gravestones, showing how specific styles diffused across space and time. He also demonstrated how changes in pottery sherds and house floor plans marked a significant structural transformation in the world views of the colonists in the early 1700s, when the emphasis on communal living and corporate groups began to break down with the rise of individualism and privacy. But he is probably most famous for his reinterpretation of the Pilgrims, not as staid, stick-in-the-mud religious folks, but rather as bawdy Elizabethans who played hard, drank hard, and wore cheery clothing and body ornaments on special occasions.
In addition to the important contributions James Deetz made to American archaeology, his true legacy may be the many students he motivated and encouraged over the years. He was truly committed to undergraduate education, and he worked with many hundreds of students in both the classroom and the field. The campus recognized his efforts in undergraduate teaching by awarding him the Distinguished Teaching Award in 1982. His blend of down-home humor, innovative archaeological research, and relevant case studies on material culture hit a chord with students, and he changed the lives of many. Deetz’s pedagogical philosophy was not unlike his theoretical approach on the little things of everyday life—he wanted to make the teaching of archaeology inclusive and available to everyone. His classic textbooks, Invitation to Archaeology and In Small Things Forgotten: The Archaeology of Early American Life, were intentionally written as short, highly readable publications that could then be issued in paperback at a very modest price.
Not only was James Deetz a renowned scholar and teacher, he was a wonderful colleague with his quick wit, great stories, and willingness to help anyone. He had a genuine love of life and people, and he cherished his friends and family. He spoke often in our morning discussions about his children, a very talented cohort of six sons and four daughters, all of whom appeared to have a knack for cooking, as several worked as chefs in local Berkeley restaurants. I remember how we benefited from their culinary skills and hospitality in recruiting top archaeologists to our program—such as when we enticed Patrick Kirch to the campus in 1988.
Professor Kirch was noted not only for his research in the Pacific but also for his love of fine food and drink. We took Kirch on a recruiting dinner to Normans, one of the restaurants where a Deetz clan member was then cooking. Just after we sat down, a number of exotic appetizers began to flow from the kitchen, followed over the next couple of hours by a sumptuous series of tantalizing entrees. Deetz was in rare form, regaling the table with tale after tale while he selected every choice item off the menu for Professor Kirch to taste (along with several samples of Deetz’s favorite single malt scotches). By the time a platter of exquisite desserts had arrived, Jim Deetz had convinced Pat Kirch that this was a typical night on the town with the Berkeley faculty and that he could live nowhere else. James Deetz’s gift to me was being a supportive colleague who went out of his way to help a young assistant professor. My impromptu morning seminars with him on the porch of the 2251 College building were full of insights about how to practice and teach archaeology. I learned much from him and feel deeply his passing. The entire campus has lost a very good friend.
—Remembered by Kent G. Lightfoot, professor of anthropology Back to Top
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Walter Leland Moody
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