Duvall was a man of great vision, courage, and determination! I have hundreds of pieces of correspondence we exchanged over the years. He came to UCLA as coach (where I rowed 67-71) after I graduated and was serving in a guided missile destroyer off Vietnam. We met live at a Churchill Society annual convention in San Francisco in 1990. Duvall was grand and magnanimous as well as the master encourager. In all things he was a genuine prince. He was truly one of the finest humans I have known and he will be missed.

And what of Duvall’s artistic pursuits, not the least of which was his eager and enthusiastic singing avocation in the Apollo Club? I recall that Duvall started singing as an Apollo member possibly at the same time- – Spring of 1988 or so- – as did I. The manager of the choir, Dr. Riccio would regularly, at the close of rehearsals, thank Duvall among the members ‘for all that he did’ at LA Athletic and the choir. Although then in my youth, I scarcely gave thought about what Duvall was contributing beyond a bellowing bass-baritone to the chorus; now in my more-advanced youth, let us say, I realize that Duvall was working behind the scenes in unseen ways making sure that the group had sufficient resources- from marking pencils for scores all the way to adequate attendance at our concerts- to perpetuate the cause of music at Los Angeles Athletic Club.

Our gratifying times well-spent at the Chinatown eatery Yee Mee Loo (4th & Ord for those without a current Thomas Guide) after any number of rehearsals proved a congenial and social outlet beyond the singing business at hand. When the Northridge quake took Yee Mee Loo off the map permanently, Duvall and I commiserated in a solemn way: Now that Duvall has also left us, how gratifying to see all the solemn wishes and the many lives, particularly those of youth, he influenced with a love for his fellow (hu)man.

Chris Saranec, Music Director & Conductor of Apollo Men’s Chorus, resident at LA Athletic Club

On a Friday afternoon in September 1973, in my freshman year at UCLA, I accepted an invitation from a few the guys in the dorm to “see them row” on Bologna Creek. Little did I know…
I was introduced to Coach Hecht, and he graciously invited me into the launch. I was enthralled, but didn’t say much. At the end of practice he said, “well Carolyn, we’ll see you Monday morning at 4:30am (or whatever God-awful time we used to get out there.)
I stammered back something like, “but I just came to watch, I don’t have any experience…”

Dewey looked me in the eyes (the way I’m sure ALL of you recall), and said something like, “I don’t care what you do or don’t know, you can work hard and prove yourself starting on Monday.”

That simple act of believing in me, believing in a 19 year old kid who had never been in team sports, or had any reason for this man to think I could do the job, stayed with me my whole life.

I took on jobs where people challenged me; I would think back to my time on crew, as a coxswain, doing something that required excellence, starting out 100% novice.

In later years, in my job, we often gave people with criminal records a chance at a job. They would start to tell me their past, but I would stop them. I would look them in the eye and say “I don’t care what you do or don’t know, you can work hard and prove yourself starting on Monday.”
Thanks Coach Hecht.
RIP

I joined UCI crew as a coxswain for the novice men’s team in the fall of 1995, with no experience or understanding of the sport, I was just small and wanted to be part of UCI athletics. In that first year, I learned not only the foundations of rowing, but the beauty that could be found in tidal reports, dark months, and tying the perfect knot back at the dock. In the summer of 1996 I started working for Books on Tape, and at the same time my mother passed away from cancer. Duvall took time out of his busy day in the mornings that summer, before we went to work, to teach me to scull. He freely invested that time in me and supported me through the worst moment of my life. He encouraged me to join the women’s team to row, and I took the lessons I learned from him with me through the rest of my rowing career, and now into my running career. I am forever in debt to the man who taught me to row, taught me that game meat is delicious, and showed me how to be compassionate to others from a place of authority. Duvall, you will never be forgotten by that little coxswain/receptionist to whom you gave light during the darkest of times.