The world was on the verge of war when the class of 1944 arrived on the Brooks School campus for its eighth-grade year. The United States had yet to enter the fray but according to the 1944 yearbook, “Chamberlain waved his umbrella futilely and a state of chaos seized the world.” On the North Andover campus, things were no less calm. The record-setting hurricane of 1938 landed soon into the new term; “fifty trees blew down, the lights went out for three days,” according to the yearbook. Not exactly an omen for good times ahead.

And yet, according to the class’ retelling of its history years later, one new student, Henry Lee, was undaunted.

Lee arrived on campus already very much at home. His stepbrother, Thomas Stephenson ’33 P ’68(d), had been an early graduate of the school (a member of the second graduating class) and his family was good friends with Founding Headmaster Frank Ashburn and his wife, Phyllis. Within a matter of months, he had developed a reputation as a playful classmate who was always willing to make a bet on a football game, positively silly in his antics and his quips. Along with classmate and friend Richard Grant ’44, P ’68 (d), Lee became part of a self-anointed dynamic duo.

Romp as he might, however, Lee never let the good times deter him from more serious matters at Brooks. He applied himself academically and often took on leadership roles for his class. Older son Henry ’64 says his father recounted with special pride doing his part with other sixth-formers surveilling the skies at night from the highest point on campus to look out for German warplanes. Whether it was his early health challenges or a combination of nature and nurture, from the start Lee was driven to persevere and perform, always with a heavy dose of grace and humility — and a twinkle in his eyes.

By the time he left Brooks, graduating early like many of his classmates to serve his country during World War II, Lee had amassed an estimable number of school honors. Founding member of “The Third Form Record.” Class secretary for three years (1941–43), lower school tennis champion (1941). News editor of “The Bishop.” Pitcher for the baseball team. First-team football player and sometimes quarterback for the team. Son Henry ’64 says his dad’s athleticism belied his “skinny” frame. And apparently poor eyesight. Lee’s younger son, Tom ’76 marvels at his on-field prowess, “pretty good for a severely nearsighted boy!” Tom also remembers his father particularly relished the human touch he found at the school, noting that he “thought the world of the headmaster [Ashburn] who remembered everyone’s name and said goodnight to them as they left the dining room after dinner.” No doubt that Brooks provided the teenaged Henry Lee with a lifelong commitment to duty and leadership, to which he brought his own inimitable humor, love of life and regard for all his fellow man.

Over the next seven-plus decades, Lee gave of himself, willingly and generously, always to the benefit of those around him. Following graduation from Harvard College, he quickly moved on to Stanford University, from which he received a master’s degree in history, then overseas as a representative for the U.S. State Department’s Foreign Service. He became a beloved teacher and coach at Browne and Nichols School in Cambridge, Massachusetts, before advancing to the positions of assistant headmaster and headmaster at Dexter School in Brookline, Massachusetts.

Throughout, he remained a devoted husband, father of four, and, by the early 1970s, an indefatigable and much-admired community leader. “We did not know who he was in the outside world,” his daughter Karen remembers. “We just kept seeing him running out the door all the time.” She adds “He was involved in so many civic groups I can’t remember them all.”

His most public role came in the 1970s when, together with a small group of like-minded Beacon Hill neighbors, he founded Friends of the Public Garden. The once-revered civic landmark had fallen into disrepair while also under threat from a large urban development project proposed by then-Mayor Kevin White. Daughter Karen remembers: “Dad didn’t know the difference between a tree and a bush, but he jumped in ready for the fight, and fight he did.”

Lee took the helm of the campaign, taking on City Hall and developer Mort Zuckerman with characteristic gusto despite daunting odds and almost no financial resources. Lee continued to advance “the Friends,” programmatically and organizationally — unpaid and generally single-handedly — while carrying out other responsibilities as an educator and leader of other community organizations, like the Massachusetts Historical Society, which he chaired for years. He never stopped.

Well into his 90s, neighbors and friends would find him roaming the Public Garden grounds, picking up trash or stopping by the Friends’ office to report needed repairs or maintenance issues. It was this aspect of his considerable career that resulted in Lee’s recognition in 2009 with the Distinguished Brooksian award. In the citation, the school emphasized his role in effectively rescuing the Public Garden, stressing that he was “instrumental in saving this jewel in landscape architect Frederick Law Olmstead’s Emerald Necklace.”

Lee would live just long enough to enjoy seeing his son Henry receive the same award earlier this year — the only father-son duo so honored by the school.

Henry Lee passed away August 12, 2024, just five months shy of his 100th birthday. He will be missed by the Brooks community as well as all those who knew — and loved and admired — him. Fortunately for all of us, his legacy will live on in the urban oasis he created in Boston’s historic Public Garden and in the many civic organizations to which he generously lent his talents, his time and his deep belief in giving back. — Susanne Beck P’14

Read more alumni stories in Brooks School's Bulletin magazine.