Herbert M. Eckweiler died at his home in Fountain Valley, Calif. on June 4, 1991 after a two-year battle with cancer.

Herb, a native of Hawley, PA, was one of the great characters of our Class of 1960. Slightly older and more street-wise than the rest of us, he was probably the greatest combination of toughness, wit, intellect, common sense and craziness that ever walked the quadrangle . . . or a flight line, or the halls of a headquarters. Herb didn't march to a different drummer, he would simply convince the drummer to change the cadence . . . or he'd buy the drum. His one concession to being conventional was that he stayed in Cadet Squadron One all four years and was the squadron commander during first class year. He was a heavyweight boxing champ in the ring; out, he was regularly on the ropes on the academic side. However, if grades had been awarded for insight into the important rather than points for the perfunctory, Dean's List might have been Herb's List.

Herb never tried to be funny, but with his personality, mind and mannerisms, he didn't have to; he simply was. The absolute quickest with a quip, comfortable in any company, creating one-liners as he went along, he could regale any group. He never met a man he didn't like--or one he didn't like to analyze, measure, and then cheer up, razz, or bring down a bit if necessary. Whatever he did, he did it with flair--and he did it all his life.

Herb met his match when he married the lovely Carolyn Corlette of Denver on Oct. 7, 1961. This incomparable couple negotiated 20 years of Air Force life and had four children, all of whom are now college graduates and successful in their own right. After retiring as a Lieutenant Colonel, Herb continued in civilian life as an aerospace engineer for 11 years with Harris Corporation in Southern California. He was also a member of the Association of Graduates.

Big of heart and stature, generous to a fault, and imbued with a zest for the zany, Herb Eckweiler steam-roller-coasted through life, and if you were fortunate enough to be along for part of the ride, you'd be better for it. I believe we all are.

Several months before he died Herb remarked, on the phone, "Right now the score is the Big C, 10, and Herb, zip; but it ain't over yet." Now, at age 56, it's over. Herb may be gone, but he could never be forgotten.

Herb was interred at Pacific View Memorial Park, Newport Beach, Calif. He is survived by his wife, Carolyn, daughters Nancy and Lynn, twin sons John and Jim, one brother and one sister.

("Joe" Biehle, '60)