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THE INSTITUTION
By Akikazu Hashimoto
I am sure this is a feeling shared by many here, but the passing of Kris was a loss of a very special friend.
The bond I shared with Kris was that of a fellow science/engineering nerd. We developed an understanding about being a nerd, and it was incredibly comforting.
He and I met when he was visiting Madison from Chicago around 2011. I was quite active as an instructor at Hoofer Sailing Club at that time. The reputation of Kris preceded our actual meeting. He was legendary as a former instructor. I had also heard about the legacy of Turbo Tap from some of the club's old timers, probably Barry Widera. Most likely, we were introduced, and I imagine that we must have had some casual conversation about Bernoulli v.s. vortex theory of sail lift, or something like that... a typical science/sailing geek stuff. I think we developed a mutual liking at this stage, but we were just casual acquaintances through Hoofers at the time. In the period thereafter, we might have run into each other at various Hoofer events, like the Friday Night Social, Light Brigade Society meetings, Commodore Cup pre-parties, etc, when he happened to be in town.
Shortly afterwards, Kris came up to Madison again and informed us that he was offered a faculty position at MATC and is moving back to Madison for good. Usual congratulatory comments were exchanged among those who were present, but I said something that might in hindsight be considered somewhat rude. I said to Kris, "aren't you overqualified for that." I had a bit of a "those who can do, do, and those who can't, teach" mentality and I had developed a “prejudice” that Kris is someone "who can do." To me, it was a simple reflection of respect I fostered toward Kris, but I recognize after the fact that that may not have been an ideal comment socially speaking. Sill, I could tell that Kris took it as a sign of my respect, and I felt a solid bond following this exchange. We talked about this later and he acknowledged that my comment that Kris was overqualified to be a faculty at MATC was a form of sincere compliment. I also came to realize that he knew exactly what he was doing in accepting the MATC teaching position and the position at UW Madison down the road. He knew he "can do" if he wants, but what he wanted was to "teach." That was his true calling, and he was making a deliberate choice guided by his conscience.
I imagine that everyone who knew Kris also knew about his passion for teaching. We had many conversations on a large variety of subjects, but he seemed most excited when we shared stories about the stories of successful students who really “got” what it is that we as teachers were trying to convey. He said he wanted to be remembered most as someone who touched lives through teaching. I’m sure those who interacted with Kris in learning/teaching context have no doubt that has succeeded in this goal.
In a few years, Kris was offered a position as a teaching faculty at UW Madison and as such was spending most of his working hours in the UW campus area. Spontaneously, we started a tradition of getting together for a weekly happy hour at campus area bars like The Library and The Blue Moon. We came to call this Happy Hour ritual as the Institution. The Institution had a statement of purpose: "To discuss entropy, sailing, and girls." I think it is not too surprising to everyone who knows Kris that Kris's mind leans on the technical/scientific/logical side. Friends of Dress might further understand that those who lean far in the "left brain" spectrum experience a certain degree of social isolation. We both fit the stereotype of being much more comfortable with systematic and logical thought while being extremely uncomfortable with humanistic and social protocols. Many who are technically inclined suffer from the feeling that even friends and family do not fully understand what makes them tick. For Kris and I, the Institution became a self prescribed mutual therapy session. We typically meet at around 5:00PM, order a dirty martini or a dirty gin and tonic, and talk about whatever was in our minds. Often it was about current events and news. Sometimes, we discussed interesting happenings in the classroom or aspects of science pedagogy. History and culture were also a frequent subject of conversation. I recall talking about our family history going as far back as WWII in the context of our German and Japanese heritage. We talked about our Briggs-Myers profiles. I also found a companion to talk about my (usually not so successful) love life. In short, our conversations were probably like what one expects to have during late nights at a college dormitory between geeky undergraduates, but it was by dudes in our mid to late forties. It was our way to find relief from the stress of life. We both cherished this Institution and looked forward to it every week. Luckily, we both lived close to campus on the west side, and so we can enjoy a good libation and some bar food, yet stumble home by foot or by bike.
I happen to have a former girlfriend with whom I remain in contact. There was a time where I was complaining to her about my limited romantic successes. As a way of consoling me, she made the point that being in a relationship is not always bed of roses. To further make her point, she asked me if I could name a single couple who seem to actually have truly happy relationships in the long term. I struggled to answer this question at first, but then I remember telling her: “I have this one friend, Kris and his wife Leslie. THEY are perfect. I want something like what they had.” I mentioned this conversation to Kris during the "Institution." He said he was honored, but he also said, in very much a Kris-like manner, that "the images of Hallmark Greeting Cards do not exist in reality." Having said that, I also know that he prioritized his family above everything else and committed unconditionally. Perhaps Hallmark Greeting Cards are staged, but the Dressler family was a model that I was aspiring to find for myself.
Long before Dress was diagnosed with his illness, we had conversations, in abstract, about death and mortality. We talked about how one of us will likely attend the other's funeral, and how interesting it would be to see what one might say in the eulogy. We also talked about what we might want to say on our tombstones. I certainly did not expect this to be happening so soon. Long before funerals, I was expecting parties and weddings. We were talking about extending the membership of the Institution. Matt McCormick joined us in the backyard hot tub sessions during the COVID 19 pandemic when the bars were closed. Kris floated ideas about me joining some boating parties. If I ever was to find a partner to tie a knot, Dress was definitely going to be asked to be one of my groomsmen and to give a speech.
On the morning of December 1st, McCormick arranged for me to visit Dress and we hung out at Dressler's house. During that visit, he recalled our conversation about the obituary and the eulogy. He said he was going to send me a draft shortly. I also asked if he wanted to read my eulogy. He said he would. I was about to get started writing this when I heard the news that he passed shortly after our visit.
I truly regret that I didn't manage to write this eulogy in time even though we knew at one point that certain fate was inevitable. Yet it all happened way too fast in the end. I'm extremely saddened to lose a nerdy therapy partner, a romantic role model, and a kindred spirit. Thank you, Kris, for the friendship.
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