I didn’t know Dennis, except through my mother, Harriet Souder’s stories about his exceptional artwork when he was in her art classes at Franklin Jr. High. Dennis and Janelle were two of her students that she spoke of so fondly that we will never forget them. At the age of 98, my mother still remembers both Dennis and Janelle vividly.
Harriet Souder's comments on hearing of his passing:
“ I always thought Dennis would do great things, he was a treasure.
Dennis and Janelle were quite a team, they were both brilliant. Their artwork was very advanced. They understood what I was teaching them; abstractions and other concepts beyond their years. They both worked hard and really enjoyed art.
I still have a few of his sketches that he didn’t take with him when he left junior high. Dennis and Janelle did some artwork we framed and hung in Franklin’s hallways. I tried to get the artwork back for them but the principal would not allow it.
Both Janelle and Dennis have corresponded with me recently and it meant so much to hear from them. Dennis wrote me that my class “was a sunny spot in his junior high experience.” I loved teaching him. Dennis was a great student. “
Dennis wrote to mom, on July 19th, 2020. He didn’t mention his illness. (as a side note; I found it interesting that he used 6 “old” stamps for postage on the envelope. After seeing his obituary, I realized that each stamp represented one of his interests)
Our family is deeply saddened to hear of his passing. He is a legend in our minds and in our hearts always
I met Dennis in high school. We immediately hit it off . I was in awe of his artistic ability and found him an easy conversant, a kind and sensitive man. He used to play with The Kingbees, a band I would hang out with. I still love looking at the drawing he made me when he signed my yearbook. (Others no doubt have one too) Contact dropped off after high school in those pre-internet days when finding lost acquaintances was more difficult.
Thankfully, about a decade or so ago Clay Fulkerson got me back in touch with Dennis. Dennis and I have corresponded frequently and regularly ever since. He came to visit me in Phoenix and I still remember sitting at an outdoor patio cafe with him and Donna Thorpe Cilley on election night four years ago. My husband Bruce and I visited him in Denver where, to Bruce's delight, he toured museums with us, lecturing and educating us with each offering. We had a splendid visit. He had, for years been searching for the perfect architectural house and I often heard the details of his dwelling infatuations, He had a prodigous memory and mind for detail; he often wrote long descriptive emails filled with minute descriptions of people and events. Within the last year or so he sent me a package of dozens of drawings and reproductions consisting primarily of self-portraits he had executed over his lifetime. It gobsmacked me. He recently moved most of his stuff out of his Denver condo, planning to sell it and, with one or two exceptions, he was out of touch with me for a number of months .
I only learned of his diagnosis three days prior to his death. He was very matter of fact about it and seemed prepared and very grateful for the Hospice care he was getting. We spoke three times over the next two days very frankly about his situation, his feelings, etc. He was not scared of death; only wished to avoid pain. I did some research for him about casting an early ballot as he was determined to vote before dying. Sadly, that did not come to pass.
During our last chat, the day before he passed, he asked me to dispose of his ashes, which I agreed to do and felt honored to do. I asked what his wishes were, and he laughed and said, "It's up to you; I won't be around." I told him that I would like to wait until the next Washington high school reunion and see if some of his friends who remember him fondly might like to gather to do this in community together. He seemed to think that would be nice.
I feel a real void in his passing. We lost an awesome talent with a keen eye and intellect who held a store of knowledge. I will miss his kind and sweet demeanor, his introspection, his quirkiness, and watching him engage with his world with heartfelt passion.
I've been thinking about Dennis for a couple of days now, since the notice of his death appeared in my email. It was a shock and felt like a punch in the throat. Dennis has always been linked in my mind with my love, Tim Smith. In the fall of our junior year I'd seen Tim a couple of times at school and one evening he came over, unannounced, to our house on 38th Street. Tim and Dennis were best friends at the time, so Tim brought Dennis with him. It was a weird, very awkward and brief visit, but as my relationship with Tim developed I also got to know Dennis better. They both loved the Beatles and one day after a new album was released Tim and I went over to Dennis' house to listen to it together. Dennis had cut a hole in the wall of his bedroom next to his bed. He put Christmas lights in the hole and covered it with plexiglass. He said that he liked to lay back on his bed and look at the flashing lights while he listened to music.
Tim was a walker - he loved to walk because he said it helped him think. Dennis and I often followed Tim around on his long walks, sometimes talking and sometimes just admiring the trees and birds. Tim did not know me well. He thought I was kind of dumb because I spent so much time with my horses and I was not as independent a thinker as he. On the other hand, he gave me far too much credit for manipulating him and steering our relationship where I wanted it to go. I thought that Dennis knew me better and that he could see how hopelessly naive I was. It seemed at the time that Dennis was very shy, and he might have been a little shy, but it's more likely that as Tim's friend he didn't want me or Tim to think that he had the slightest interest in me. Also, knowing me a little, he probably knew that we had almost nothing in common. Tim told me that after the first time he came to my house, as he and Dennis were walking home, Dennis said that he thought I was stuck-up.
The last time I saw Dennis was in the summer before we all left for college. Tim and Dennis drove over in Dennis' car and we stood in the driveway and talked for awhile. After I joined this site I read Dennis' synopsis of his life and in 2016 I wrote to him, to tell him how interesting it was. He replied to me, but I thought he didn't seem to want to continue corresponding, so I didn't write again. I had completely forgotten that Dennis lived in Denver, just a short hop up the 25 from Colorado Springs, but there was nothing between us that needed resolution.
I found Dennis to be quiet and introspective. I thought he was a deep thinker, unconcerned with others' opinions, and although we never talked about art, he seemed like an artist to me. Tim once asked me who I thought was more of a nonconformist - him or Dennis. I bloody well knew what I was supposed to say, but I replied, "Dennis", because it was the truth. So long, Dennis.
Debbie, I think that is a great idea. Several of us tried unsuccessfully several times to get him to come to one of the reunions. I guess will finally get our wish.
I would be remiss if I didn’t add a few words on this site about the passing of Dennis. I only had contact with him in high school as he was the lead singer in our little garage band (Kingbees). We had more adventures playing and traveling than we probably should have and I remember Dennis as the quiet introspective member until we started playing music trivia on road trips. He almost always won and I was always amazed. A couple of late night trips he and I spent some time screwing around riffing with a guitar and a harmonica. That was when I saw him the most relaxed and smile the most.
It was nice to read the comments by others that knew him in adult life as I wondered what he had done with his life. Like most of us, probably nothing newsworthy, but in Dennis’s case I would suspect impactful on those around him.
After losing so many friends to the Viet Nam conflict, I made the decision to keep the passing of my friends and relatives a personal experience, so I know I’m not very good at this. However, my memory of Dennis deserves more, as I am a better person for knowing him, even for so short a time.
Thanks to those of you who knew Dennis, whether at school or being in touch later, and have shared your memories here. Your comments help me appreciate an amazing classmate I would like to have known better.
And that goes for all those who post anything on this site. One of the benefits is that we learn more about those of the 796 people (or whatever the correct number is) in our class whom we didn't know well at WHS and come to appreciate the myriad ways they contribute[d] to the world around us.
I was deeply sorry to hear that Dennis had passed away. I had not seen him in a very long time but have some very fond memories of him. Dennis was such a talented person. If you knew Dennis, you knew he was an exceptionally talented artist from a very young age. He was a genuienly nice person and always had time to chat with you and share his knowledge. He was very friendly.
He also was a very talented singer and a great harmonica player. If you ever saw him perform with the King Bees, you know what I am talking about. He would always put on a great show for folks.
The vivid memories I have of Dennis are a bit skewed. I remember being in Mrs. Souder's art class at Franklin and being so fascinated watching Dennis draw that I would often get called out by Mrs. Souder for staring at him. The other thing I remember besides his brilliance, was he kind of dressed like a professor. Rest in peace, Dennis
I first met Dennis in 1960 when we attended classes at the Cedar Rapids Art Association. Later at Franklin we pursued a common interest in bicycles, cars, ancient Egypt, architecture and marine disasters,Titanic being our favorite. Egypt inspired the construction of a tomb in his basement. Plans for a burial chamber were abandoned when we decided there were more socially acceptable and presumably cooler pastimes to pursue.
in later years, whenever I showed interest in a particular subject, he would take note and follow up with long, well-researched and beautifully written reports. His ability to gather, analyze and retain information was astounding. He truly was a genius.
I was able to talk with him several times after he told me of his prognosis. I told him how much he had enriched my life and the lives of so many others. I was looking forward to more conversations with him when I received a call from Janelle, who gently told me of his passing.
Dennis was a talented, funny, sometimes frustrating, always fascinating individual. I miss his presence in the world.
I am proud to have called Dennis a friend in high school, though the only contact I have had with him since was when I read his statement in the mini-Monument. I wrote to him then and tried to say how much he had contributed to the richness of my high school fabric. When ever I had a project that required artwork, I asked Dennis to contribute to it (with credit). When Paul Haglund ran for class president, Dennis made the hallway posters and suggested the yin/yang armbands that we enlisted Paul's supporters to wear. I played in the Kingbees with Dennis, Tim Smith, Henry Nathanson and Russel Collins until they located a rhythm guitarist who actually had some talent, which I lacked. Dennis and Tim had wonderful voices and Russ defined funky bass, and Henry was a great drummer. I was happy to be in the band with them, even for a short time. Dennis added to my life, as he did many others.
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Sharon Souder (Bartlett)
I didn’t know Dennis, except through my mother, Harriet Souder’s stories about his exceptional artwork when he was in her art classes at Franklin Jr. High. Dennis and Janelle were two of her students that she spoke of so fondly that we will never forget them. At the age of 98, my mother still remembers both Dennis and Janelle vividly.
Harriet Souder's comments on hearing of his passing:
“ I always thought Dennis would do great things, he was a treasure.
Dennis and Janelle were quite a team, they were both brilliant. Their artwork was very advanced. They understood what I was teaching them; abstractions and other concepts beyond their years. They both worked hard and really enjoyed art.
I still have a few of his sketches that he didn’t take with him when he left junior high. Dennis and Janelle did some artwork we framed and hung in Franklin’s hallways. I tried to get the artwork back for them but the principal would not allow it.
Both Janelle and Dennis have corresponded with me recently and it meant so much to hear from them. Dennis wrote me that my class “was a sunny spot in his junior high experience.” I loved teaching him. Dennis was a great student. “
Dennis wrote to mom, on July 19th, 2020. He didn’t mention his illness. (as a side note; I found it interesting that he used 6 “old” stamps for postage on the envelope. After seeing his obituary, I realized that each stamp represented one of his interests)
Our family is deeply saddened to hear of his passing. He is a legend in our minds and in our hearts always
Deborah Nye (Nye)
I met Dennis in high school. We immediately hit it off . I was in awe of his artistic ability and found him an easy conversant, a kind and sensitive man. He used to play with The Kingbees, a band I would hang out with. I still love looking at the drawing he made me when he signed my yearbook. (Others no doubt have one too) Contact dropped off after high school in those pre-internet days when finding lost acquaintances was more difficult.
Thankfully, about a decade or so ago Clay Fulkerson got me back in touch with Dennis. Dennis and I have corresponded frequently and regularly ever since. He came to visit me in Phoenix and I still remember sitting at an outdoor patio cafe with him and Donna Thorpe Cilley on election night four years ago. My husband Bruce and I visited him in Denver where, to Bruce's delight, he toured museums with us, lecturing and educating us with each offering. We had a splendid visit. He had, for years been searching for the perfect architectural house and I often heard the details of his dwelling infatuations, He had a prodigous memory and mind for detail; he often wrote long descriptive emails filled with minute descriptions of people and events. Within the last year or so he sent me a package of dozens of drawings and reproductions consisting primarily of self-portraits he had executed over his lifetime. It gobsmacked me. He recently moved most of his stuff out of his Denver condo, planning to sell it and, with one or two exceptions, he was out of touch with me for a number of months .
I only learned of his diagnosis three days prior to his death. He was very matter of fact about it and seemed prepared and very grateful for the Hospice care he was getting. We spoke three times over the next two days very frankly about his situation, his feelings, etc. He was not scared of death; only wished to avoid pain. I did some research for him about casting an early ballot as he was determined to vote before dying. Sadly, that did not come to pass.
During our last chat, the day before he passed, he asked me to dispose of his ashes, which I agreed to do and felt honored to do. I asked what his wishes were, and he laughed and said, "It's up to you; I won't be around." I told him that I would like to wait until the next Washington high school reunion and see if some of his friends who remember him fondly might like to gather to do this in community together. He seemed to think that would be nice.
I feel a real void in his passing. We lost an awesome talent with a keen eye and intellect who held a store of knowledge. I will miss his kind and sweet demeanor, his introspection, his quirkiness, and watching him engage with his world with heartfelt passion.
Sherin Novak
I've been thinking about Dennis for a couple of days now, since the notice of his death appeared in my email. It was a shock and felt like a punch in the throat. Dennis has always been linked in my mind with my love, Tim Smith. In the fall of our junior year I'd seen Tim a couple of times at school and one evening he came over, unannounced, to our house on 38th Street. Tim and Dennis were best friends at the time, so Tim brought Dennis with him. It was a weird, very awkward and brief visit, but as my relationship with Tim developed I also got to know Dennis better. They both loved the Beatles and one day after a new album was released Tim and I went over to Dennis' house to listen to it together. Dennis had cut a hole in the wall of his bedroom next to his bed. He put Christmas lights in the hole and covered it with plexiglass. He said that he liked to lay back on his bed and look at the flashing lights while he listened to music.
Tim was a walker - he loved to walk because he said it helped him think. Dennis and I often followed Tim around on his long walks, sometimes talking and sometimes just admiring the trees and birds. Tim did not know me well. He thought I was kind of dumb because I spent so much time with my horses and I was not as independent a thinker as he. On the other hand, he gave me far too much credit for manipulating him and steering our relationship where I wanted it to go. I thought that Dennis knew me better and that he could see how hopelessly naive I was. It seemed at the time that Dennis was very shy, and he might have been a little shy, but it's more likely that as Tim's friend he didn't want me or Tim to think that he had the slightest interest in me. Also, knowing me a little, he probably knew that we had almost nothing in common. Tim told me that after the first time he came to my house, as he and Dennis were walking home, Dennis said that he thought I was stuck-up.
The last time I saw Dennis was in the summer before we all left for college. Tim and Dennis drove over in Dennis' car and we stood in the driveway and talked for awhile. After I joined this site I read Dennis' synopsis of his life and in 2016 I wrote to him, to tell him how interesting it was. He replied to me, but I thought he didn't seem to want to continue corresponding, so I didn't write again. I had completely forgotten that Dennis lived in Denver, just a short hop up the 25 from Colorado Springs, but there was nothing between us that needed resolution.
I found Dennis to be quiet and introspective. I thought he was a deep thinker, unconcerned with others' opinions, and although we never talked about art, he seemed like an artist to me. Tim once asked me who I thought was more of a nonconformist - him or Dennis. I bloody well knew what I was supposed to say, but I replied, "Dennis", because it was the truth. So long, Dennis.
Stuart Lehr
Debbie, I think that is a great idea. Several of us tried unsuccessfully several times to get him to come to one of the reunions. I guess will finally get our wish.
Russell Collins
I would be remiss if I didn’t add a few words on this site about the passing of Dennis. I only had contact with him in high school as he was the lead singer in our little garage band (Kingbees). We had more adventures playing and traveling than we probably should have and I remember Dennis as the quiet introspective member until we started playing music trivia on road trips. He almost always won and I was always amazed. A couple of late night trips he and I spent some time screwing around riffing with a guitar and a harmonica. That was when I saw him the most relaxed and smile the most.
It was nice to read the comments by others that knew him in adult life as I wondered what he had done with his life. Like most of us, probably nothing newsworthy, but in Dennis’s case I would suspect impactful on those around him.
After losing so many friends to the Viet Nam conflict, I made the decision to keep the passing of my friends and relatives a personal experience, so I know I’m not very good at this. However, my memory of Dennis deserves more, as I am a better person for knowing him, even for so short a time.
I hope he’s still blowing a harmonica somewhere.
Paul Haglund
Thanks to those of you who knew Dennis, whether at school or being in touch later, and have shared your memories here. Your comments help me appreciate an amazing classmate I would like to have known better.
And that goes for all those who post anything on this site. One of the benefits is that we learn more about those of the 796 people (or whatever the correct number is) in our class whom we didn't know well at WHS and come to appreciate the myriad ways they contribute[d] to the world around us.
Kenneth Cook
I was deeply sorry to hear that Dennis had passed away. I had not seen him in a very long time but have some very fond memories of him. Dennis was such a talented person. If you knew Dennis, you knew he was an exceptionally talented artist from a very young age. He was a genuienly nice person and always had time to chat with you and share his knowledge. He was very friendly.
He also was a very talented singer and a great harmonica player. If you ever saw him perform with the King Bees, you know what I am talking about. He would always put on a great show for folks.
RIP Dennis as you will be missed.
Margo Stewart
The vivid memories I have of Dennis are a bit skewed. I remember being in Mrs. Souder's art class at Franklin and being so fascinated watching Dennis draw that I would often get called out by Mrs. Souder for staring at him. The other thing I remember besides his brilliance, was he kind of dressed like a professor. Rest in peace, DennisClayton Fulkerson
I first met Dennis in 1960 when we attended classes at the Cedar Rapids Art Association. Later at Franklin we pursued a common interest in bicycles, cars, ancient Egypt, architecture and marine disasters,Titanic being our favorite. Egypt inspired the construction of a tomb in his basement. Plans for a burial chamber were abandoned when we decided there were more socially acceptable and presumably cooler pastimes to pursue.
in later years, whenever I showed interest in a particular subject, he would take note and follow up with long, well-researched and beautifully written reports. His ability to gather, analyze and retain information was astounding. He truly was a genius.
I was able to talk with him several times after he told me of his prognosis. I told him how much he had enriched my life and the lives of so many others. I was looking forward to more conversations with him when I received a call from Janelle, who gently told me of his passing.
Dennis was a talented, funny, sometimes frustrating, always fascinating individual. I miss his presence in the world.
Robert "Rob" Fawcett
I am proud to have called Dennis a friend in high school, though the only contact I have had with him since was when I read his statement in the mini-Monument. I wrote to him then and tried to say how much he had contributed to the richness of my high school fabric. When ever I had a project that required artwork, I asked Dennis to contribute to it (with credit). When Paul Haglund ran for class president, Dennis made the hallway posters and suggested the yin/yang armbands that we enlisted Paul's supporters to wear. I played in the Kingbees with Dennis, Tim Smith, Henry Nathanson and Russel Collins until they located a rhythm guitarist who actually had some talent, which I lacked. Dennis and Tim had wonderful voices and Russ defined funky bass, and Henry was a great drummer. I was happy to be in the band with them, even for a short time. Dennis added to my life, as he did many others.