A great friend of the UW Department of Classics, Thomas Morgan, MD, MA in Classics (’89), passed away on December 9, 2024. Here is his obituary in the Seattle Times, and below are a few UW Classics faculty members’ reflections on Tom.
Larry Bliquez:
In the fall of 1978, I was informed by Dan Harmon, who was chair then, that Thomas Morgan, a retired doctor, had enrolled in my Elementary Greek class. Wow! A nontraditional student of the first rank. When I entered the room for the first session, it wasn’t hard to pick him out. There in the middle of the front row was a distinguished looking middle-aged man decked out in a blue blazer, grey flannel pants, a white shirt and a bow tie, a considerable departure from the attire of those seated around him. In the following weeks and months his demeanor was matched by his business-like participation, not to mention a disapproving glare at any of his fellow students who were not as well prepared as he. Sometimes the glare, along with a twinkle in his eye, was directed at me, as if to say, “what are you going to do to reprehend this miscreant?”
Needless to say, Tom’s academic maturity allowed him to produce scholarship at a considerable cut above that of our most talented majors. In fact, in Tom’s senior essay, he argued that Thucydides’ famous account of the Athenian Plague was likely more of a rhetorical construct than a diagnostic description. Tom’s effort, undergirded by his medical experience, was thought sophisticated enough to be turned into an article on the subject, which was published in a top ranked scholarly journal (“Plague or Poetry? Thucydides on the Epidemic at Athens,” Transactions of the American Philological Association, vol 124, 1994, pp. 119-147). It was unheard of for an undergrad to produce that kind of scholarship back then, as it still is today.
Tom’s student days were only the beginning of a long warm relationship with the UW Classics Department and through it with the Archaeological Institute of America. In addition, he was a fast friend. It is fair to say that he gave back in abundance for benefits received.
Jim Clauss:
During my first year at the UW in the Autumn of 1984, I was scheduled to teach Greek 305, the course in which students read Xenophon’s Anabasis. On the first day of class, a distinguished gentleman wandered into the room and, wondering if he was in the right place, I asked hesitatingly: “Are you here for intermediate Greek?” “Yes I am,” he announced with a brevity that bespoke ingrained authority. As he took his seat, he was clearly sizing me up. I thought to myself: well, this is going to be interesting.
I learned that that gentleman, Thomas of Morgan (as I came to call him), was not only a retired doctor, as Larry mentioned, but also a former associate dean in the Med School. That wasn’t so scary, as my Greek was probably better than his. What made me anxious was that he had actually been to most of the places where Xenophon had traveled and, what is more, he got to many of them by sailing his own boat around the Mediterranean, the same one he sailed on from the US to Europe. Anytime I mentioned a place, Tom was there and could describe it almost as well as Xenophon. His presence in class provided unforeseen benefits. His Greek improved as did my knowledge of geography.
Tom became a close personal friend and we shared meals at each other’s homes. One time I happened to mention that we used to make wine. Tom of course insisted that we do so together. You don’t say no to Tom. Not only did we make some passable red wine, but, because Tom had recently found the still from his laboratory, we made grappa, a brandy produced from the last press of the grapes. As the secondary fermentation went through the spiraling glass tube, Tom meticulously took its temperature. Eventually, when a sufficient amount of liquid had passed, he proclaimed in his inimitable matter-of-fact way, “This is ok. We won’t go blind.” The grappa was better than the wine and we did not go blind.
Tom was a man of many talents and was not afraid to admit it. There were few things that Tom did not know. And these he would not admit. That is why I found him such a delight to be with. He owned and operated the epithets imperious and cantankerous with considerable charm, elegance and verve.
Alain Gowing:
I met Tom soon after my arrival at the UW in September of 1988, when he was deep into completing his MA degree in the department. Although I never had him in a class, I rapidly became well acquainted with him through what proved to be my growing involvement with the Seattle Society of the Archaeological Institute of America (now known as the Puget Sound Society). In those days the local Society, founded by the legendary John McDiarmid in 1977, was a robust organization whose membership was largely composed of residents of Seattle and surrounding areas. As it was intended to do, the Society brought together members of the community and UW faculty over a shared passion for the archaeology of the classical world. A founding principle of the Society was that its officers should always feature a mix of UW faculty and local residents. Tom was already very involved in the organization by the time I came on board, but he would take on an increasingly active and crucial role in the years ahead. When I became Society president in 1998, Tom, along with the other dedicated officers, was a driving force behind the success of the Society, and he would remain so for some years to come, most notably as its Treasurer.
There are many anecdotes I could share in order to illustrate Tom’s contributions to the work of the Society. I can say that I – and I am sure this was true of others who held office before and after me – came to rely on Tom for guidance in every aspect of the job. I’ll share just one. When as president I was faced for the first time with running the election of officers, I realized I hadn’t a clue how it was done. How did people get nominated? Who made up the ballots? Who counted the ballots? I remember writing Tom a slightly panicky email in 1999 with all these questions and more. In a characteristically wry response, he informed me that elections would take place at the next lecture…and that I need not concern myself with details: “We will take care of it,” he wrote, “Just stand there and beam upon the multitude.” Which I did.
For the first couple of decades of its existence, the Society relied on the generosity of its members to house and entertain visiting lecturers during their visits. Tom and Joyce were frequent volunteers to do so, and I had the privilege of attending a couple of splendid ‘speakers’ dinners at their Medina home. Impeccable hosts, Tom and Joyce made these occasions memorable for all involved. It should in fact be noted that Joyce shared Tom’s deep love of classical antiquity and was an enthusiastic supporter of the Society, attending virtually every lecture with Tom over a period of many years.
Tom’s work with the Seattle Society was but one, albeit important manifestation of his love of classical antiquity – and of his dedication to the work of this department. Indeed, Tom and Joyce were avid supporters of the UW Department of Classics in other, equally significant ways, none more so than with the establishment of the Thomas and Joyce Morgan Endowment for Classics in 2002. Dedicated to assisting “the development of a classics faculty of the highest possible quality and to promote the competitive position of the Department of Classics with regard to outstanding departments in peer institutions,” this endowment has provided an invaluable source of funding for faculty travel and research.
In sum, Tom and Joyce Morgan were great friends of the department, both personal and professional. Sadly Joyce preceded Tom’s passing by several years and we all miss her greatly as we will now miss Tom: physician, teacher, researcher, administrator, philologist, historian, philanthropist, oenologist, sailor, multifaceted handyman, and Indiana Jones.