It is really hard to imagine that Dr. Breck, as he was known to all of us, is no more. He represented many things, but most of all, I remember him as a kind, gentle, and approachable person who was generous with his words and deeds.
I could say with ease that he was a pillar of strength to everyone, whether one came looking for a testimonial, certificate of some sorts, advice on academic or other worldly matters, or even just a few words of appreciation or encouragement. Never was he pompous or arrogant. Neither did he put on airs and graces; he remained the simple human being that he was, to the very end, doing the right thing by everyone.
Way back in 1968, when Dr. Breck returned from Canada, fresh with his PhD, we were second year undergrads at Peradeniya. We were simply thrilled with his casual and boyish appearance. His scholarly attributes kept us spellbound at lectures, where all the animals he described, especially, the brittle stars and tapeworms came alive and danced about in front of us. So was his ability to narrate a story and give that flavourful essence on the subjects that he taught us.
As time went on, I got to know him even better. For me, his subtle sense of humour, witty remarks, and his interpretation of the true university education, opened great new vistas into the scientific world. I had the good fortune of working with him during my student days, as well as later on, when we teamed up for a research on snails.
Looking into the nervous system of the common garden snail, I realised that I was being introduced not only to the science of the nervous system, but a whole new world of art, music, drama and literature, all of which he appreciated and loved to talk about, with equal interest and a jolly manner. Those memories would run into pages. He appreciated the beauty of the universe, allowed everyone to be part of it, without judgment or harsh words, while doling out his colossal wisdom with words of encouragement.
As Dr. Breck bows out of this mortal world, I wonder whether the curtain has fallen on an era of versatile university dons. Very few have the breadth of knowledge and the passion to engage the students beyond their specialised area.
His love for his alma mater, made him retire pre-maturely from the university, where he served as professor and head of the Zoology Department for a long time. During his short tenure as Trinity College principal, his heartfelt contribution uplifted the academic profile and standards of the school that gave him the early foundation and prepared him to face the larger world.
As he spent the final lap of his life, in the company of family and close friends, nestled in the hills of Hantana, Kandy, quietly listening to the rustling of leaves in the soft breeze and songs of chirpy carefree birds, he would have reminisced perhaps of all the good things he enjoyed and countless blessings, and that life was not about worrying over things, but loving, sharing and having a good laugh. He is survived by his wife, Chandra and two daughters, Nadine and Anouk.
“Life is eternal, and love is immortal. Yet death is only a horizon and a horizon is nothing but the limit of our sight”- Rossiles Worthington
May his soul rest in peace.
Delicia Tillekeratne
Breck’s tryst with Trinity
“After life’s fitful fever, he sleeps well”
-- Macbeth
The river-lake and mountain continue to meet and will continue to meet. It is we who slip out from time to time, as Breck would say, in the Tonto parlance, to the “Happy hunting grounds”. He was given to complete his time but not Karan, nor Mano. No more will his slender form be seen in those scenes he and his family helped generations of Trinitians to revere and venerate.
In 1954 RRB was appointed to teach English in Form III. This sent a strapping shiver down the spines of the boys. He was rumoured to be severe, forbidding and steely in comportment. They said his caning was the most painful in college. Even before he entered the class, there was a stillness, a soundlessness, most unusual in a boys’ school. They said that his standards in the subject were so high that cuts would be inevitable.
One day early in that year, he failed to turn up. There was a sense of trepidation for some time. Then the bolder of the lot began their normal restlessness. He didn’t turn up the next day, and the next.
This continued for sometime, when the news came to us that some fatal disorder had lodged in him and he was gone from his family. The news did not touch us with feeling, for boys at that age don’t have such feelings. It was only much later that we realized the loss.
The Breckenridges were in a house between Harry Hardy’s and Squealery. On Saturdays Breck’s sister Rohini would play marbles with the Squealers – and win! With their father’s death they had to give up their house and the boys moved ten feet to the left, to the boarding house. Karan was on his way to Peradeniya.
No one knew of the monetary hardships Breck was going through because he blended well with the boarders. It was as if he had always been there.
It was only a keen observer that would have noticed that Breck was not the usual Trinitian. He was above average in his application to studies and could easily have entered Medical College. He chose not to. Instead he chose an unusual combination of subjects unheard of at that time. No one had hitherto applied for chemistry, botany, zoology and geography. Mr. Sahayam could not give him a master to teach geography because there was only one student in the class.
Breck did it on his own – and passed! He went on to be a great professor in zoology.
He wasn’t remarkable in other fields of school life. He did go to Asgiriya and join House practices in rugby but more to encourage others than to seek a place.
He loved music although he was never heard singing in the corridors. He would never miss the three hours of Sunday Choice.
He had a vast collection of records and what he knew about the singers and the songs was phenomenal.
These displayed his fondness for jazz and the easy music of Sinatra, Dean Martin and Nat King Cole. His knowledge of the cinema was also exceptional. It was his love for music that made him so attached to the English Hymnal and the traditional church service. He would often talk of the sheer poetry of the King James’ Version and would have none of the other versions.
It was typical of Breck that he should leave an illustrious career in the university and be persuaded to be principal of Trinity. The college was so valuable to him. But once in the principal’s chair, he realized what a lonely place that was. He soon discovered that while there were those who encouraged him, there were also those who had strong views on how events and matters should be handled. He had to take decisions alone and for the good of Trinity. He did this even in the teeth of opposition.
Circumstances having the distinctive qualities of such opposition were Breck’s responses to Trinity rugby. Breck felt that parents send their children to learn and secondly to play rugby.
He realized as an academic that the new world runs on knowledge and information, especially in areas of ICT. No longer are boys who play rugby and come from well-connected homes at an advantage in the world outside. Breck, himself loved the game. He was there, frail as ever, without proper transport, at Bogambara, this year to see the boys play.
In the past there was always a gathering at Breck’s house at the campus after the match. Puggy Gunaratne, U. L. Kalu and other Royalists would share a common cup with Breck, Bala and the Trinitians. The gathering was symbolic of all that the two schools stand for – healthy rivalry and good sportsmanship.
Trinity has to thank Breck for walking along its steps and drains. Perhaps he is the last of the Breckenridges.
Upali Ratnayake |
E-mail