Fletcher Hancock Dyer
HonoringFletcher Hancock DyerFebruary 16, 1987 – November 5, 2009
A Bright Light and intense Force of Energy for SOAPIFF and its Staff, Fletcher Hancock Dyer left us on November 5, 2009. All left now are the wonderful memories that constantly kept our lives bright and lively! Fletcher became a model for all but never seemed satisfied it was enough and continued working harder! At all times, the passion reflected in Fletcher’s life and art was to focus on society’s blemishes and illicit conversation and resolve to improve our world. What a wonderful legacy Fletcher left us—now we know he would want us to carry on his work. As we look back, perhaps, he was always on loan only for a limited time –we hope Fletcher knew how much he meant to us and how he enriched our lives. Fletcher, if you are still fluttering around, we love you and we will miss your mischief and your wonderful ways forever! You will always be with us in spirit!
Mark D. Compton, Festival Founder
Video Celebrating Fletcher’s Life and work.
Select Statements from theCelebration of Fletcher’s LifeNovember 22, 2009
It is a privilege and an honor to welcome you today to this Celebration of Fletcher Dyer’s Life and Work.
Today is a very special day, for we are given this opportunity for friends and family to come together and to share with each other the wonderful memories and personal stories regarding their enriching life experiences with Fletcher.
For the few of you who don’t know me, I am David Dixon.
I teach graphic design with Fletcher’s dad in the department of art and design at ETSU.
I have known the Dyer family for over 20 years, and have benefited many times by their kindness and support. I have always admired the Dyers’ social and political activism that has permeated their professional and personal lives. They have selflessly championed many causes that protect the rights of human beings and defend the disadvantaged.
Wayne and Barbara’s three children, Carrie, India, and Fletcher have always been an integral part of their lives, and growing up, were nurtured in a loving environment that espoused our most cherished human values.
I am happy to say Fletcher embodied the best of these values. And though we mourn his early departure, we can remember that he was lucky to have grown up in such a loving family that nurtured all his many skills and talents.
As I remember Fletcher, I think about his wonderful sense of humor. I was the victim of his jokes more than once, because he knew how to punch my buttons, which he chose to do as often as possible. But I also remember how kind he could be…and how he was often quick to volunteer and to help out his sisters, his friends, and his fellow classmates.
Not only did I work with his dad, I was also his teacher. Over the past few years I was fortunate to play a role in his personal growth and development as an artist. I can tell you, it is no easy task for a student to be enrolled in the same program in which his father teaches. It may be that I unconsciously held him to a higher standard. Whatever the truth may be, Fletcher responded to all the challenges I could throw at him–we would engage in lengthy discussions about design problems, and when words seemed to fail him, he let his artwork do the talking.
Fletcher seemed to thrive in an atmosphere of challenge. He was never afraid of hard work. Talent and hard work can be an awesome combination, as we can see in the many fine examples of his work that are on display here today. You can see in his work that he was something of a maverick: his work was often rebellious and challenged the status quo. His social and political statements strike hard and to the point…there is no guesswork in his message. You can also see how inventive and creative he could be. Who would have thought to design a motorized wheel chair that spins around in circles when you activate the motion sensor? What better way to comment on the health care issues we face today!
He also impressed our design community with a poster design he created last year for which he received an ADDY© award. This poster really stood out to me. Not only was it impeccable in it’s design and execution, it is conceptually profound and original.
It was only a few weeks ago that I commented to Wayne, just how impressed I was in the way Fletcher’s work had matured in the last few years. In my package design class this semester, his work stood at the top the class. He often produced not one solution, but two. His fellow students admired his work. After learning of his accident, one student remarked that he thought Fletcher’s work was the best in the class, and that he always looked to Fletcher’s designs for ideas and inspirations.
One of the assignments I gave this class was for them to design a brand identity and package display for a nutrition bar. (This package is on display over in the corner.) The name he chose to use was, “LIFE.” The slogan he chose to use was, “LIVE LIFE FULL.” In hindsight this will always be a reminder of an important truth that he seemed to know and appreciate…that all our lives are short, and that we must live life to the fullest.
Fletcher seemed to possess what Martha Graham called, “a divine dissatisfaction.”
She said:
“No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.”
I want to believe that through his growth and education as an artist, he was challenged to see what he was truly made of, and when he found it, discovered that he liked what he found.
I loved Fletcher I’m really going to miss him.
Remembering Fletcher
Like others I was shocked to hear he was gone. I saw him in the gallery not 24 hours before and discussed his new bike. Having owned motorcycles most of my life, I spoke to him of the dangers and the need of defensive driving. I wish I could have said more.
Fletcher was 3 years old when I started work in the art department, so I have known him for many of my 19 years here. I saw him grow from a awkward youngster to a rather competent young man.
I worked with Fletcher many times on projects for his dad. I will miss hearing “Hey Bob, MY Dad needs”..(fill in the blank) always something to fix or build. He also worked as my assistant at times in the department. Like many youngsters you never knew for sure if he would make it out of bed and show up, but when he did he was fun to work with. He always had a friendly attitude and would do anything. We spent times in the attic of the art annex installing security cameras and he never complained of the heat or dust. He just enjoyed doing stuff.
He got to where I could trust his abilities to do things without my supervision. The last project we did was for his dad just a week before. We cut some Plexiglas panels and it was nice knowing I could trust his help guiding the panels through the table saw. I was confident enough that I handed him the hangers to install and he did it without my help.
I have to tell this one story. I left him alone to install some blinds on the 3rd floor windows. I knew he was capable of doing it on his own. I’ll never forget his apologetic voice as he came into my shop. In his hands was my battery drill, broken in pieces, that he had dropped out the window. I kidded him about that for years. Fortunately it was a cheap drill and not my Makita.
I am writing this letter to give you my condolences on the loss of your son, Fletcher. While I have never met your son, I have talked to him at least 3 times or more a week for the last two and half years. I have played x-box online games with Fletcher on hundreds if not thousands of times and while we have lived in different cities I have always considered him a good friend. It is said that a parents’ greatest treasure is their children and no parent should have to endure that loss, especially a treasure so young and so rich in life. Even though Fletcher is gone, I like to think that the times of playing online x-box together has enriched my life as well as the lives of our mutual online friends. Those memories over time will be lost, like tears in rain. But I choose to hold in my heart the celebration of his life, not of his passing, for the pain is still too near. Every man is but a spark in the darkness. By the time he is noticed he is gone forever, a fading retinal image that is obscured and replaced by newer and brighter lights. And Fletcher was so very bright, with a personality that could be blinding to look at. It was like lightning. On occasions when Fletcher would get a little rowdy with his online play, I found myself acting as his grounding rod by trying to bring him and his temper back in check. I used to tease Fletcher about being his x-box online dad for he was young enough to conceivably be my son. Despite those rare moments, I believe his heart was still good and true. I cannot begin to fathom how great your loss is but I will not forget the good Fletcher has brought to my life. I will leave his “gamertag” on my online friends list for as long as I own my x-box and will post a small tribute to Fletcher on my x-box bio for our mutual online friends to share.
