Shelley Wachsmann
Dick was that rare blend of a gentleman, a scholar and a warm human being. When the Israel Department of Antiquities made the decision to excavate the Kinneret Boat I had only one condition. Dick, or at the very least one of his students (Steffy Clones), had to be brought in to study the hull.
Although it was at the beginning of a semester at Texas A&M, and just before David’s wedding, thankfully Dick found a way to come out and spend some time with us. I cannot begin to tell you what a treasure he was to the excavation in general and to me in particular. There were many difficult decisions to make during that excavation and I never made one without first seeking Dick’s advice. To this day, when I find myself in a complicated situation, my first thought is this: how would Dick handle it? In a sense, Dick has not died, as I believe that he lives on in a very real way in each of us who had the pleasure, and the honor, to know him.
Dick’s muted sense of humor was a valuable ingredient in keeping our hopes afloat during what was truly a hellish excavation. After days of being asked repeatedly by visitors to the site if Jesus and the Twelve Apostles could have sailed in the boat, Dick came to one of our evening meetings looking very serious.
“I have calculated,” he said, “the exact number of people who could get into the boat.”
Silence fell over our little group. Dick was quiet for a while, seemingly lost in thought.
“Dick… how many?” I finally asked.
He looked up from his notepad and said, “Well, I figure twelve could have gotten in the boat, the thirteenth would have had to walk alongside.”
I remember the twinkle in Dick’s eye sparkling like a green flash.