excerpted from The Andover Alumni Journal, ""In Memorium,"" circa 1999
Frank Lee Tom came to Andover in fall 1971. He was my junior-year roommate in what we called ""the jungle""--Will Hall. Tom was my first friend in those dark first weeks. We couldn't have been more different: I was from a little town in Texas; he was from northern Connecticut. I loved sports; he put the word ""club"" in club soccer. His family had a rich and honored tradition at Andover; my family lore has it that my grandfather actually finished sixth grade. I couldn't work my way through ""Fur Elise""; he pounded away on that crummy, old standup piano in Will Hall until the proctors threatened to take away his privileges.
When Tom got to Andover, he was a skinny, homesick kid with a racing heart condition, who loved to play the flute and piano. By the time he graduated, he had learned all the reed instruments, practically taken up full-time residence in the music building, and was busy putting in place the elements of his life's work. While most of us live lives of quiet desperation, there was nothing quiet nor desperate in Tom's life. He found his life's calling, his life's love and threw everything he had into it.
That's what is so great about a place like Andover. Some kid like me got a first-hand lesson in seizing your life's passion and wringing out every ouce of joy. I loved everything about what Tom was, what he created, how he lived.
Tom was and always will be an inspiration to so many in our class. He was a good man, and the Class of 1975 will forever mourn his loss.
Arthur Kell Thomas was someone who took chances in life, both musically and personally. His unearthly talent and courage allowed him to fashion an extremely successful career with music that was nothing if not ""on the edge."" He pushed the limits, and, in his exuberance made much around him seem plain by comparison.
I will never forget his demonic laugh, his boundless energy, his sound...that incredible sound, on both alto and flute. But mostly, his love. He was an unerring friend. His spirit lives on in his compositions, which I and many others will perform for many years to come.
A strong 25-year friendship is hard to encapsulate. I remember getting Thomas to the Dar es Salaam airport in February 1997; he would find out within hours of returning to the U.S. that he had leukemia. We stood in the lobby and found it difficult to part. We talked and embraced and reaffirmed our friendship and love several more times, as we had countless times since we were kids at Andover.
Phil Heuber [I was] a fellow member of the Phillips Academy Jazz Band. [I recall] the high school jazz contest at Waltham High School when Thomas stole the show. He went absolutely nuts with an incredible solo during one of our tunes--I think something by Stan Kenton. I begged my way into his small group for a couple of gigs on campus. He would only let me play if I learned to read his fake book. That was great motivation fo rme to learn to read music in keys other than trombone key. We had great fun, and I was very lucky to play with Thomas and Arthur Kell in a small group.
Note Tom last performed with his trio at Andover in January 1997 in Graves Hall [just prior to his fatal trip to Africa]. Some 18 months earlier, he had helped the Class of 1975 celebrate its 20th reunion by jamming in the Stimson Hall common room with Hart Day Leavitt's jazz group late into a June evening. [Leavitt was Chapin's english teacher; see Leavitt's memories in ""Exclusive Interviews"" section.)
Assessing his talent, one jazz critic wrote that ""given his manifest passion, relative originality and comprehensive stylistic awareness. Chapin is arguably the most complete straight-ahead jazz saxophonist of his generation.""