I was not one of the better students to have fully benefitted from Mr. Lowcock’s physics lessons. But I still remember his lectures, his i.e.’s, his e.g.’s, his Boyle’s law, which we all copied down often with a smile on our faces at his interest in the subject and his facility.
He was as capable of cajoling as he was in encouraging, always with humor and warmth, and never without dignity. He referred to me as someone who could sleep with his eyes open. I can’t argue with that. What he said stayed with me the rest of my life as I doggedly made sure I would not remain unawakened, if only to honor him.
I was already awed by Mr. Lowcock even before he became our teacher. Tommy Chau, who was in our class but skipped two grades ahead and who won just about half of the track events at DBS (and incidentally who I mourn to this day of his premature passing), had signaled the pleasure he took in Lowcock’s physics class. At our impressionable age, Mr. Lowcock’s cool and mastery were the model of our admiration and imitation.
Mr. Lowcock was also one of our physical education teachers. He was a wonderful gymnastic teacher. Until he came along, all those bars in the gymnasium and dark brown mats in the corner and the stacked pummel horses were wonderments and mysteries. But soon enough he showed us their use for stretching, for somersaulting. He took us out to the soccer field to run and taught us how to breathe, how to do the hurdles and how to catch our breath at the end of a long run by flopping our upper body over as we pressed out our breaths. If he did not initiate the culture of athletic spirit at DBS, he certainly reinforced it.
On one occasion after we all did a 400 meter lap, on our way back from the field to the gym, one of the more exuberant boys jumped and straddled over a waist high post. Mr. Lowcock said with some concern he was not to do that again else he might be permanently sorry.
Last night I read with sadness of Mr. Lowcock’s life and final hours. I felt gratified that some of the old boys took care of him in the hospital. I knew he received only the best possible treatment. And undoubtedly he knew he was loved and respected by so many. I dreamt I wrote to my parents that Mr. Lowcock took leave of us, only to realize I did not know where to send the note. I awake to realize we group those to whom we owe debt that can never be repaid.
With condolences to all,
Thomas CHOI 1961
