On December 21st of 1988, Thomas Britton Schultz was returning from a semester abroad in London and boarded Pan Am 103. His young life along with 257 other passengers ended abruptly. Tom’s death left his family and friends shocked and shaken. The following is a recount of my experience with what would be my first tragedy and significant loss. After thirty years, this is my recap of this event and the subsequent work by many to remember Tom.
Tom was only 20 and a student at Ohio Wesleyan when he died. He left behind his mother and father Jack and Jane Schultz. He also had a younger brother Andrew who tragically died at the age of eight. Tom lived in Ridgefield Connecticut and New York City. He had a lot of friends and was an outgoing good-natured young man. His death was a tragedy.
I recall being in New York City the night he died. I had met with some of our mutual friends from Pine Island Camp. About 10 PM that evening I could see the news breaking on the televisions behind the bar of some establishment I was at in NYC. In the moment I thought nothing of it. However, as I drove home to Connecticut that night, I distinctly recall thinking about whether Tom might have been on that flight. I knew he was in London for school and guessed he might be coming back for the holidays. I am not a big believer in the ‘supernatural’ but in this case, my ‘spidey-senses’ were definitely tingling. Approximately 48 hours later, we got confirmation through local news that Tom was on the flight.
This article came out from Tom’s ‘hometown’ newspaper and gave a good overview of who Tom was, his impact on the world in his brief time and who he was trying to be. Oddly enough this was a picture of me hugging who I believe was Pat Ditmars, the mother of some fellow Pine Islanders and one-time van driver at the camp. Looking on was Whit Fisher who was a central figure in our PIC gang.
I recall aspects of his funeral in some detail. The day was overcast and cold. There was a very large outpouring and many people attended the funeral. Tom had clearly touched a lot of people in his short life. His father was also an influential CEO in high-end retail. I recall the church was somewhat modern and large; after some research to remind myself, it was at St. Leo Parrish in Stamford. The ceremony itself I don’t recall much other than the family priest did a good job of describing Tom and who he was. Tom had a meaningful relationship with the church and this priest based on what I would guess was the result of his younger brother’s death years earlier. At the end of the ceremony, they played Dionne Warwick's ‘That’s What Friends are For’. I recall it was played over and over because people stayed in the Parrish for quite a while afterward consoling each other. The Pine Island Camp contingent congregated right after and shared both memories and sorrow.
I was a pallbearer which was a first for me. I was honored to be selected. I remember that the casket was surprisingly heavy. Putting it into the herse to drive to the cemetery was straight-forward. We drove to the Cemetary and we carried him to his final resting place. This effort was hard both physically and emotionally. The distance from the herse to his gravesite was kind of far and the ground was snowy and a bit tricky. On top of it, there was a near mishap placing the casket over the hole. This procedure was not easy as you had to continue to lift it but away from your body. One of the pallbearers nearly fell in. I don’t remember who other than it was an older gentleman. I will say that watching his casket get lowered into the ground and the throwing of flowers and dirt did give his death some finality for me. It was a memorable day and not in a good way.
This was a video I believe his parents took of Tom’s last year of Pine Island in what I believe was 1987.
I knew Tom from Pine Island Camp for boys in Belgrade Maine. I think the first year we were there was 1981. He was an older camper and I was a young counselor. I was only a few years older. He hung out with a bunch of the older campers most notably Frank Petitio and Christian Albert.
I remember a couple of interactions with Tom in these early days. The first was one of my first trips and probably one of Tom’s as well called Big Flag. The trip was a combination of hiking and canoeing. Typically there would be two groups, one would start hiking Bigelow mountain and the other group would canoe Flagstaff lake. Both groups would meet at the far end of both the lake and the mountain and switch activities. My grandfather created this trip when he was at PIC in the 1920s. On our trip, there was only one group. We were going to canoe Flagstaff, then hike to the top of Bigelow and then retrace our steps. On the first day as we were landing at our campsite from canoeing, Frank Petito wanted to get a cast from deeper water to see if he could catch a fish. We were all in a war canoe together. There were maybe ten of us crammed into that very large canoe. While Frankie was casting his lure, he caught the thumb of another camper, Chris (I can’t remember his last name) on his backswing. The hook went right under Chris’ thumbnail and he wouldn’t let anyone take it out. The brief view any of us got was the hook was right under the nail, and pretty deep in. The full details deserve a thorough review but the short story is a local had driven down to our campsite to collect driftwood the following morning after what must have been a very long night for Chris. We asked the man to drive us into town to the closest hospital, which was quite a distance. The man agreed but insisted he get a look at it first. I remember Chris offering him his hand for an inspection, but instead the man grabbed his wrist and with a pair of players that had been hidden from all of us, he grabbed the hook and ripped it out. Chris was collectively horrified, in some pain but I think mostly relieved. We never di go to the hospital. The injury got bandaged after a thorough soaking in hydrogen peroxide and resolved about four days later when we returned to camp. This is a story I will likely never forget. The rest of the trip was a bit of a dud as it rained relentlessly. We made it only halfway up Bigelow and turned back.
Another distinct memory during the time Tom was a camper was when Tom and Frankie were busted doing a raid after lights out. Campers went to bed at about eight and at nine in the evening was the time campers were supposed to go to bed. Considering there is no electricity on the island, it was a fairly realistic requirement, but less so for the older campers. Counselors would typically go to Honk Hall or maybe congregate in the kitchen or cove. Older campers would like to cruise the island after lights out enjoying their freedom and rebellion or trying to steal food from the trip locker or kitchen. I forget the details but somehow another counselor and I busted Tom and Frankie. We made them undress to their underwear, hold rocks out at arm’s length and we would shine our flashlights on them. The point of this was to have mosquitoes bite them. If they tried to use their arms and lower the rocks, their time would be extended. This all took place on Monte’s dock and there was a bright moon reflecting on the water making it pretty light out. Tom was standing up with his rocks and for some reason, Frankie was sitting almost below him. The memory etched in my brain from this was Tom could have very easily dropped that rock right on Frankie’s head. Like most of these raids and following punishments, they were dumb and never well thought out. This particular punishment didn’t last that long and mercifully, no one was hurt.
This was a picture of Tom, myself and Pope Ward and Whit Fisher. I believe it was some time in late August of maybe 1986 or 1987 and we did this after camp was over. We climbed Mt. Washington in New Hampshire via Tuckerman’s Ravine.
Tom and I became real friends later when he was a counselor at Pine Island. I believe his first year as a counselor was 1984. The camp staff from 1984 through 1987 was a large crew that was pretty close. Not only did we have lots of adventures during camp, but we would connect often during the rest of the year. Both Tom and I had summer houses close to the camp so we would often host our staff friends during the season, particularly on nights and days off. As young people, these nights and days off were where we were most reckless but this resulted in the most memorable stories.
In 1987 I did now work at the camp. I had just graduated college and took the summer off. Much of the time I spent at my summer house and would connect with friends still working at the camp, which included Tom and my brother. Generally I was connecting with them on days and nights off.
We created a lot of great memories over those three to four years and there were a bunch of us that became very close. Many of those friendships remain today. And to some extent, Tom’s death galvanized those relationships.
The following is the taking down of the original Kopa and the begining of building the new structure. This time was when we had the most people helping. It was a magical time.
The following are my recounts of a few of the adventures we had together. The first one that comes to mind is surprising Tom’s Uncle Pete. We were hanging out at Tom’s cabin at the north end of Great Pond. There was a bit of a compound and Uncle Pete had an A-Frame house close to Tom’s house. I forgot what Tom was looking for but late in the afternoon Tom said to me that he had to go get something at Uncle Pete’s house and that I should go with him. We headed over and climbed up some steps to a deck on the lakeside of the house opened the door and went in. As we enter, Uncle Pete and his wife are sitting on the couch naked. This was shocking to me but Tom just kept walking through the living room with some quick explanation as to what he was looking for to Uncle Pete. I for some reason sort of became a ‘deer in headlights’ and found myself standing in front of a naked Uncle Pete and his wife who had quickly covered up. Wow, what do you say? And I stammered for what was mercifully a brief moment. Luckily, Tom found what he was looking for and returned to the living room where he said thank you and we left. It was a shocking and one minute for all parties except for maybe Tom who seemed unfazed.
I once visited Tom at his parents’ apartment in New York City, which was somewhere in the Upper East Side. They lived fairly high up in some tower. I met Tom there a few times and we would have some fun in the city. The thing I remember the most is the bathroom which had a shower that was on a very big window which allowed for a pretty great view east, looking over the East River. The startling thing was the great view went both ways. There was no way to shield yourself from prying eyes. And while the first minute or say I felt very self-conscious, after a while I realized that probably no one was looking and if they were, so what. This design feature has stuck with me for a while. And in my house now, my shower has a good view and one neighbor could possibly see me showering. I have decided not to put a shade on that window because of my experience at Tom’s NYC apartment.
I don’t recall the genesis for the idea to rebuild the Kopa Kababa at Pine Island in Tom’s memory but the idea was birthed shortly after his death. Tom lived one summer in the Kopa as a camper and I believe he may have also been a counselor in the Kopa. The building was very tired and needed replacement. So it was decided that his friends would rebuild the Kopa Kababa in his memory.
Some more footage of the building of the new Kopa.
My father is an architect and I was pretty good at making design drawings for various building projects. I spent a lot of time working out how the new Kopa would be built. The old building was very basic and we would replicate it with some basic improvements which included good windows and a door, sliding doors to replace the canvas closing of a big opening in the Southeast corner and a wrap-around deck. We would put ‘modern trim on it and good clapboards which got painted gray. The Swans never told me this to my face but apparently they thought it was too ‘West Hartford’ and didn’t mesh well with the campy feel of the island.
We also had to raise the money for all the materials. I created a t-shirt that had a rendering my father did on the front and all the signatures of the participants on the back. At the time I was pretty excited by how it came out and I still have two of them today. We raised
There was of course approval needed by the camp which was provided. The director of the camp at the time was Ben Swan and he was helpful in making it all happen. I have lost track of the time line of how it happened but I want to say that we built in the late summer of 1989 and dedicated it in July of 1990.
I recall that about twenty Pine Islanders showed up to help remove the original Kopa and build the new one. I’m certain that I leaving some people out but participants included my family Ben, Cyndi and Fritz Farquhar, Whit Fisher, Pope and Peter Ward, Lisa and Andrew Regier, Bill and Suzanne Enck, Will Clyde, Jimmy Lebenthal, Virginia Page Snell, Andrew Grant, Laura and Peter Klivans, Seth Sutel, Dave Adams, Sean and Chris Wood. If memory serves, we started about a week after camp ended sometime in late August. There were a lot of people early on but as time went on, the numbers got smaller. As I recall we continued to work into September. And sometime in October, I went over to the island with some construction buddies to hang the two sliding windows and get the building all closed up for the winter.
We made the interior somewhat luxurious for Pine Island standards with interior walls, built-in shelving, a mural recreation of Michelangelo’s Hand of Adam and God by Peter Ward with old siding of the old structure on the other side of the ceiling with many decades of camper signatures including Tom’s.
The local CBS affiliate did a story of Tom, the building of the Kopa and importance of the Pine Island community.
We had a dedication ceremony on July 7th, 1990. It received quite a bit of press including the local news segment above and a New York Times article. There were quite a few people who came to the dedication ceremony including the most important guests, Jack and Jane Schultz. It was the culmination of a considerable effort by a lot of people to remember our friend and our collective tragic loss.
About a year and half after Tom’s death, his friends decidate the new Kopa Kababa in his name.
Tom’s death was truly tragic and he was a joung man with most of his future ahead of him. This really resonated with our Pine Island community and the amount of effort to memorialize Tom was truly impressive from so many people.
Additional contrubutors not listed above include Spike and Sandy Enck, Ben Hincks, Will Sahlman, Rawson Hubbell, Ben, Emily, June and Tats Swan, Andre Appinanni, Rob Gowen, John Quattlebaum, Larry McCalla, Dana Strickland, Nelson P> Farquhar, Thuy Nguyen, Frank Petito, Bob, Pat, Rob and John Ditmars, Tom Macfie, Russel Brewer and Jan Willem DeGroot.
We had a party after the ceremony back on the mainland at The Rink. It was quite a day with really great friend celebrating the life of our friend Tom. I forget where the cake came from but we took a group photo showing off a big cake with Tom’s name.
This community of people continues today which is a testament to both Thomas Britton Schultz and Pine Island Camp.
We came back to do some repair work of the Tom Schultz Kopa Kababa at Pine Island Camp. Winters can be tough on the Island and Great Pond in Belgrade Maine. The Kopa needed some TLC. Pope, Lisa and Peter Ward, Roe and Peter Baldwin, Will Clyde and his son, Rob Gowen and his wife, Virginia Page Snell and camp Director Ben Swan. I believe Whit FIsher and Dennis were there as well.