[Congressional Record Volume 147, Number 138 (Monday, October 15, 2001)]
[Senate]
[Pages S10687-S10688]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                IN MEMORY OF KARLETON DOUGLAS BEYE FYFE

  Mr. EDWARDS. Mr. President, at 8:48 a.m. on September 11, 2001, 
America lost one of its finest citizens, one of the many who gave their 
lives in the senseless acts of terror visited upon our country that 
day. His name is Karleton Douglas Beye Fyfe, and he deserves to be 
remembered. He died aboard American Airlines Flight 11, scheduled to 
fly from Boston to Los Angeles. He died at the age of 31 in the service 
of his family, of his profession and of his country. He died among the 
very first victims of this tragedy which has so unsettled our Nation. 
He would have had strong views about the aftermath of this tragedy, and 
he would not have been shy about expressing them.
  Mr. Fyfe's loss leaves his many survivors devastated. He was a 
devoted father and loving son, a constant husband and loyal friend, an 
outstanding student and solid professional.
  Mr. Fyfe grew up in North Carolina and attended the University of 
North

[[Page S10688]]

Carolina at Chapel Hill, where he majored in economics and philosophy. 
At Chapel Hill, Mr. Fyfe's lightning intellect flourished; he was 
equally at home both inside and outside his chosen disciplines. His 
instructors describe Karleton as a prodigy, the kind of student who 
makes teaching exciting, rewarding, and easy.
  Mr. Fyfe served his family and his country as a successful member of 
America's financial community in Boston, working as an analyst with 
Fidelity Investments for eight years before joining John Hancock as a 
telecom analyst in January. As a financial analyst, he would tell his 
friends of the seriousness with which he took his important work: 
``These are people's lives'' is how he would describe the retirement 
accounts in his care.
  Mr. Fyfe's family and friends all remember his unique, disarming 
sense of humor, a quality he used to overcome awkward moments and often 
to make a point. He died, and his voice has been silenced, but those 
who had the honor of knowing Karleton are certain that he would have 
views about his country's reaction to the horror that took his life.
  A close friend imagined that Karleton might say: ``If you must go to 
war, be sure somebody is in charge of protecting the innocent. Make 
sure that our country emerges from this enterprise having improved the 
condition of all the women and children it will inevitably affect.''
  Let us take a moment to hear those words. If he thought they could be 
heard in this forum, Mr. Fyfe would have been glad to give his life in 
the service of his family, his profession, his country, and the 
innocent.
  I ask consent that two important insertions into the Record be in 
order. The first will be the text of Mr. Fyfe's death notice as 
published in the Raleigh News and Observer on Thursday, September 13, 
2001; it reiterates the profound loss suffered by his family and 
friends, and it emphasizes the message, which must emerge from his 
death, of protecting the innocents. The second is an account of Mr. 
Fyfe's character, friendship, and sense of humor, written by his dear 
friend, Ric Schellhorn, as published in the Raleigh News and Observer 
on Tuesday, September 18, 2001; it characterizes Karleton's humanity 
and humor as only a best friend can.
  I now ask consent, that the two documents be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                       Karleton Douglas Beye Fyfe

       Durham.--Karleton Douglas Beye Fyfe's life was taken 
     yesterday on AA flight 11 by the hatred that so poisons part 
     of our humanity--he would not want us to take revenge on 
     innocent people for this cruel, senseless act.
       Karleton was born in San Antonio, Texas on a warm, sunny 
     February 10th in 1970. He spent his growing up years in 
     Durham County and graduated from Southern High. He majored in 
     philosophy and economics at UNC and then worked for Fidelity 
     Investments of Boston for eight years. During that time he 
     married Haven Conley from the Chapel Hill-Durham area, earned 
     a Masters degree in business from Boston University and a CFA 
     certificate, and became father to Jackson before joining the 
     John Hancock Company as a financial analyst in January of 
     this year.
       He is survived by his wonderful wife Haven, his adoring son 
     Jackson of 19 months, his parents, Barbara and Jim of Durham, 
     his older sister Tiffany Tanguilig and husband Larry of 
     Alpharetta, GA, his younger sister Erin Yang and husband Carl 
     of Cambridge, MA, his niece and nephew Sydney and Tyler 
     Tanguilig, and his many loving relatives, friends and 
     associates.
       Karleton's quick wit, gracious friendliness, keen 
     intelligence and loving family loyalty will be missed by us 
     all.
       A memorial service will be held at the Community Church of 
     Chapel Hill at a time to be arranged later. In lieu of 
     flowers the family would be happy to see any donations made 
     to the Orange Durham Coalition for Battered Women in 
     Karleton's name.
                                  ____


                 Point of View: One Among the Thousands

                          (By Eric Schellhorn)

       San Diego.--Three of us were on the phone the other night 
     reminiscing about our friend when all at once, for a few 
     long, uncomfortable seconds, everyone stopped talking.
       Karleton--Karleton D.B. Fyfe, formerly of Durham and Chapel 
     Hill--would have savored the moment: ``Pretty cool awkward 
     silence we got going here,'' he'd have piped up, as he always 
     did when a sober moment rudely encroached on an otherwise 
     loose and limber good time. It was a stock Karleton line, one 
     of his trademarks. Try it sometime. See if anyone in the room 
     can keep a straight face, even if you happen to be talking 
     about the absurd, violent death of a dear friend.
       ``Writing about me for The N&O, huh?'' I hear him saying 
     now, deadpan as you please. ``Don't forget to tell them all 
     what a handsome devil I was. And remember to spell `genius' 
     right. Big newspapers hate typos.''
       I won't reduce a dignified and accomplished young life to a 
     series of one-liners, but making an indelible impression on 
     people's senses of humor strikes me as an even more lofty 
     accomplishment than the ones you'll read in his formal bio: 
     31-year-old telecom-industry analyst for John Hancock, MBA 
     from Boston University, earned at night some years back while 
     working full-time for a major mutual fund broker. Those are 
     just the facts, man, and they don't tell you the part of the 
     story that's most worth remembering.
       He was a junior from Durham majoring in economics and 
     philosophy when I met him as a first-year grad student at 
     UNC-Chapel Hill. In anyone else, you might have dismissed 
     that incongruous pairing of academic pursuits as an 
     affectation, or a resume-builder. For Karleton, reading Kant 
     or Hegel was the perfect antidote to a steady diet of Keynes 
     and Adam Smith. He'd say: ``The best part about reading 
     brilliant economists and brilliant philosophers is that now I 
     have no clue what people in two completely different 
     disciplines are talking about.''
       Most lives worth remembering embody just these kinds of 
     contradictions: economics and philosophy, class-clown with a 
     work ethic that kept him away from his wife and young son far 
     more than he would have liked, new-era Southern gentleman who 
     inexplicably found himself working shoulder-to-shoulder with 
     Harvard grads in the financial heart of Boston Brahmin 
     country, connoisseur of both Tar Heel baseball caps and fine 
     European-tailored suits.
       Back at school, you might have watched him schlep his 6-
     foot-4 frame around in khaki shorts and T-shirts for three 
     straight months, but you wouldn't have considered trucking 
     out to a morning job interview without rousing him from a 
     sound sleep and asking if the jacket or slacks you'd picked 
     out for yourself made you look like an apprentice 
     televangelist. On one such occasion, I wandered into 
     Karleton's room in the house we shared at school for just 
     this kind of fashion consultation. Chucking diplomacy to the 
     breeze, he wordlessly sized me up, went to his own closet and 
     picked out a necktie of his own that, as he later put it, was 
     a little less ``Carnaby Street.''
       There are people you're proud to call friends, and then 
     there are people whose friends you're proud to be. I always 
     felt I got the better end of our bargain. When Karleton asked 
     me to be the best man at his wedding in 1994, it was like 
     being nominated to an elite inner circle. I repaid the 
     distinction by getting the flu on the morning of his nuptials 
     and passing out cold, mid-ceremony in the early October North 
     Carolina heat. An hour later, the vows exchanged in my 
     absence, he came inside to the couch where I was recovering, 
     threw his arms around me, and said, without a trace of 
     annoyance, ``Thanks for giving us the only wedding video in 
     history that'll be worth watching in slo-mo.''
       Armchair psychologists will tell you people who respond 
     reflexively to tragic or unpleasant events with a joke or 
     offhand remark are invoking a classic little pain-saving 
     defense mechanism called ``reaction formation.''
       Karleton was a world-class reaction-former. I can't say for 
     sure, but my guess is that if he'd been watching Tuesday's 
     events on TV at home, rather than sitting on a plane bound 
     for Los Angeles, he would have summed everything up with a 
     vintage understatement: ``Man, whoever did all this . . . 
     they're gonna have to give back a lot of those humanitarian 
     awards.''

                          ____________________