One main emphasis of his teaching was in physical education, and the effects of it were felt neighborhood wide. He organized leagues of all the neighborhood kids for many different sports, from football to 500, in which he drew up rosters, taught the finer points of the rules (even giving quizzes on the subject with candy-bar prizes), and refereed games. Each sport even had a championship, and the season would end with a party (food paid for out of his allowance) and the bestowing of individual certificates of achievement (no Microsoft Word templates here–he wrote each one by hand with his calligraphy pen, including all the curlicue borders, and affixed a metal foil seal).

He had other passions besides sports in which he attempted to inculcate us. He would make up new games that were meant for mental stimulation as much as diversion. Some were simple and required almost nothing (one I recalled just the other day: it involved one player naming a book (here I suppose a stocked bookcase was helpful), the other describing what it was about, and the first player then having to guess if the second had actually read the book. We didn’t play this game very much, because the first time we did, he named “The Chocolate War”; I claimed to have read it, but he disputed this based on my characterization of it. I just checked this book out of the library for my teenage son, and he confirmed the part of the book that I recalled. So, I did read this book, Thomas, just not very well).

Other games were far more elaborate, and involved boards and game pieces all carefully drawn on, and cut out of, poster board. One was a bird migration game, where each player sought to get his flock safely south for the winter, past the predators, hunters, and geographical hazards. The game with the greatest success (in terms of how often we played it) was an African safari game, with all the rules of movements of the animals (from lions, cheetahs and hyenas on the predator side, to antelope and wildebeest on the prey side) developed after careful research and study.

As any teacher will tell you, there is a gap (sometimes yawning Grand Canyon wide) between what the teacher teaches, and what the student learns. And even the best student will at times observe rather than emulate the teacher. So, what did I learn from my brother, in the observational sense? I learned the importance of focus, a quality becoming ever scarcer in our blackberry-iPhone-facebook world. Thomas brought that focus to everything he did, and it still manifests itself in his personal dealings. I’m sure everyone reading this can attest to being the object and beneficiary of that focus when spending time with him, and to the difficulty in getting him to answer the phone (when that focus is on someone or something else).

I also learned about the importance of passion. Thomas commits himself fully to the projects he undertakes, without reserve. His passion was felt by the kids learning how to play football as much as by siblings arguing whether disabled golfers should be allowed to use carts on the PGA tour. I’m certain his students in Cameroon noticed it, and responded to it, studying harder and learning far more than the kids with more average teachers.

But the most important thing I learned was perseverance, a quality which is essential to any successful endeavor. Some may gently mock its extreme manifestation (Thomas once drove to six record stores looking for a particular Paul Simon disc), but the iron of his persistence is evident in everything–his drawings (once, when drawing together, i quickly sketched a bird; he compared my poor drawing to his excellent one and said the difference between them was time), his birding (a passion which requires one to stand motionless for long stretches), and his work (two words: Pet Town).

Looking back, I was fortunate to be his student for such a long time. His more official students only had him for a few years. Here’s looking forward to another half century.

Happy Golden Anniversary, and I wish you many more joyous years ahead. I will never forget you and the excellent quality time I (and presumably my classmates) had with you as my biology teacher in Nyassoso. You were not only excellent in class but participated in social activities, including playing soccer with us as a defender on the team, counting votes during students election ( I will never forget the accent with which you pronounced names ‘Nkwelle Cletus’ versus ‘Ekeah James’ while counting the votes) etc. I am glad that you moved on to tackle other exciting things in your life to generate and transfer knowledge and innovations.

I ended up being the first Cameroonian commonwealth scholar to Canada and specialised in public health (epidemiology). As the world increasingly becomes a global village, I hope to meet you again some day in person. I frequently travel to US for meetings and/or work and hope to meet you some day in future.

Best wishes!!

Happy belated birthday. When I think of Tom I remember horticulture and Camp Pasquaney. The only place I had a formal education to horticulture. It’s the last time the Orioles and Brewers were both relevant and even relevant at the same time. Good memories, Thanks!

George Fitz-Hugh

George Fitz-Hugh

Wow, little did I know that I was a month older than you! Perhaps it has something to do with your being a man ahead of his time. When I worked for you, helping manage online courses and Homework Help, AOL was light years ahead of the rest of the field of online learning. A decade later, major web services were just starting to provide the same sort of tutoring we enabled, and online classes have really just begun to gain widespread adoption at all levels of education in the past few years.

Working with the dedicated contract and volunteer staff who really ran these services, and witnessing the vibrant online communities that existed on AOL, gave me a decade-long head start toward understanding the potential of social media – and you were one of the visionaries who lit that fire for me. The additional experience I gained working with major educational institutions such as Smithsonian and National Geographic, along with later content partners in the music industry, proved to be a great springboard into the world of online media.

These diverse experiences continue to serve me well as I manage web technology for Education Week, and work on social media strategy and Internet policy for a variety of organizations. But I will always remember those days at a scrappy little online service called America Online, with its obvious commitment to education personified in Tom de Boor. As AOL grew and shifted its focus through sometimes tumultuous stages, it has always provided me with valuable examples of the power of simple interfaces and a robust online community. I thank you for giving me that opportunity and being my first teacher there, helping me to make the most of the experience.

Best of luck as you continue to blaze trails in online media and education!

Paul Hyland, CTO Digital Operations, Editorial Projects in Education

Happy Birthday! You are a very sensitive, thoughtful and intelligent individual. I loved reading your website and all the wonderful comments about you. I have enjoyed all the times you have spent with our family. You’re very calm like the ocean. The letter you wrote to our family after my mother’s funeral was so heartfelt and beautiful. I still have it and think it’s one of the most beautiful things I have read. You have a very nice family. Noah is so sweet and cute and bright. Cheers to a long life and many great years to come. You’re life has just begun. I’m really looking forward to Thanksgiving!

Love,
Michele

Your other birthday tributes have been to your successes and brilliance in multiple domains. And, indeed your life makes such a wonderful coherent linear story, looking back through 50 years. But a varied life rarely looks so linear facing forward. What I have appreciated most is your deep understanding of failures and loss and thriving nonetheless, and a quality my Finnish friends call “sisu”. At critical hard times, you have helped me through–both indirectly and directly–, as I am sure you have also helped family and other friends as well. Thank you! May the next 50 years be downhill after an uphill climb–skiing down the mountain, flying, exhilarated, and turning as you will.