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News & Photos
Death of a Giant: Marty McKibbin
Beloved longtime history teacher Marty McKibbin passed away on December 6 at St. Agnes Hospital in Baltimore. He was 82.
A memorial service will be held on Wednesday, December 23 at 1 p.m. in Tagart Memorial Chapel.
A photo essay spanning many years of Marty McKibbin's career is attached below. Scroll down to the bottom of this story and click "photo essay" to view it. More images will be added as we locate them.
When McKibbin retired in 2004 after 46 years, colleague Dave Harley offered the following tribute at the Headmaster's Day ceremony:
You cannot imagine how honored I am to be able to offer these few words.
Bernard of Chartres, the twelfth century philosopher, said that we are but dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants…
When I first came to McDonogh giants roamed the hill: Lamborn, Sparks, White and Ramsey, Carre, Burgess and Smoot, Thompson, Oliver and Kenney – names that are remembered today only as names on awards, or on roads, or with the occasional child or grandchild – or are not remembered at all. Today we mark the retirement of the last of those giants.
Marty McKibbin, the son of an army officer, the great grandson of a man wounded at Antietam, was born in San Antonio, lived as a child in the Philippines, Panama, California, and Colorado, and finally stayed long enough to graduate from A. J. Demerest High School in Hoboken, an all-state athlete in three sports. (What if? What if, like Sinatra, he had dropped out of Demerest in the tenth grade, made mob connections, and entered on a singing career?)
After graduation he served in the army in Korea, first as an MP and then, when he wasn’t stepping off ships, as a player on baseball and football teams. Then it was on to Bucknell and nine varsity letters in a time when freshmen couldn’t play varsity sports (What if one of those letters had been in ice skating?), then to Westtown Friends, Calvert Hall, and finally, in 1957, to McDonogh.
He coached – JV baseball, varsity football, tennis, and basketball. His basketball teams were 46 and 1 over three regular seasons.
He wrote – papers on Vietnam and chemical and biological warfare (What if the State Department had listened to him in that courtesy interview and withdrawn U.S. troops from Vietnam in 1964?), - and he wrote college recommendations, sometimes over forty in a summer.
He taught – Middle School English, but only for a year, Asian History, a course he developed, and U.S. History. He chaired the History Department.
Then, at a time in his career when many would have been content to coast and show a lot of movies, he took on the second year of the AP U.S. History course, and again, and more so, he made his mark – books were read, papers were written, review sessions were held on Sundays, and his students received an incredible 66 fives in a three year period. Instead of pacing the locker room in the winter, he paced the halls of Allan in July, waiting for the AP results to come in.
He and his students wrote the What If book, a book that received national newspaper attention. And finally, over time, he became the quiet conscience of the school. Through four heads of school, three dogs, the eating of tomatoes in the bath tub, a heart attack, by-pass surgery, a blood clot, and a dip in the pond, to countless players and students he gave his all.
No more will he and his dog be seen jogging the campus. No more will “Boom, boom, boom!” and “Hot dang it, boy!” reverberate in Room 2. No more will students receive his care, his concern, his compassion. Somehow the place will be empty. No more will there be giants on the hill.
Sadly, only a precious few of you out there had the great good fortune of having Marty McKibbin as a teacher.
But what if? What if he had never come to McDonogh?
Bernard of Chartres, that twelfth century philosopher, went on to say that we dwarfs can see farther than those who came before us because we are standing on the shoulders of giants. Without Marty McKibbin, we at McDonogh whom he leaves behind could not see as far as we can see.
Marty, my friend, you have always inspired us. We will miss you.
View Photos
Beloved longtime history teacher Marty McKibbin passed away on December 6 at St. Agnes Hospital in Baltimore. He was 82.
A memorial service will be held on Wednesday, December 23 at 1 p.m. in Tagart Memorial Chapel.
A photo essay spanning many years of Marty McKibbin's career is attached below. Scroll down to the bottom of this story and click "photo essay" to view it. More images will be added as we locate them.
When McKibbin retired in 2004 after 46 years, colleague Dave Harley offered the following tribute at the Headmaster's Day ceremony:
You cannot imagine how honored I am to be able to offer these few words.
Bernard of Chartres, the twelfth century philosopher, said that we are but dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants…
When I first came to McDonogh giants roamed the hill: Lamborn, Sparks, White and Ramsey, Carre, Burgess and Smoot, Thompson, Oliver and Kenney – names that are remembered today only as names on awards, or on roads, or with the occasional child or grandchild – or are not remembered at all. Today we mark the retirement of the last of those giants.
Marty McKibbin, the son of an army officer, the great grandson of a man wounded at Antietam, was born in San Antonio, lived as a child in the Philippines, Panama, California, and Colorado, and finally stayed long enough to graduate from A. J. Demerest High School in Hoboken, an all-state athlete in three sports. (What if? What if, like Sinatra, he had dropped out of Demerest in the tenth grade, made mob connections, and entered on a singing career?)
After graduation he served in the army in Korea, first as an MP and then, when he wasn’t stepping off ships, as a player on baseball and football teams. Then it was on to Bucknell and nine varsity letters in a time when freshmen couldn’t play varsity sports (What if one of those letters had been in ice skating?), then to Westtown Friends, Calvert Hall, and finally, in 1957, to McDonogh.
He coached – JV baseball, varsity football, tennis, and basketball. His basketball teams were 46 and 1 over three regular seasons.
He wrote – papers on Vietnam and chemical and biological warfare (What if the State Department had listened to him in that courtesy interview and withdrawn U.S. troops from Vietnam in 1964?), - and he wrote college recommendations, sometimes over forty in a summer.
He taught – Middle School English, but only for a year, Asian History, a course he developed, and U.S. History. He chaired the History Department.
Then, at a time in his career when many would have been content to coast and show a lot of movies, he took on the second year of the AP U.S. History course, and again, and more so, he made his mark – books were read, papers were written, review sessions were held on Sundays, and his students received an incredible 66 fives in a three year period. Instead of pacing the locker room in the winter, he paced the halls of Allan in July, waiting for the AP results to come in.
He and his students wrote the What If book, a book that received national newspaper attention. And finally, over time, he became the quiet conscience of the school. Through four heads of school, three dogs, the eating of tomatoes in the bath tub, a heart attack, by-pass surgery, a blood clot, and a dip in the pond, to countless players and students he gave his all.
No more will he and his dog be seen jogging the campus. No more will “Boom, boom, boom!” and “Hot dang it, boy!” reverberate in Room 2. No more will students receive his care, his concern, his compassion. Somehow the place will be empty. No more will there be giants on the hill.
Sadly, only a precious few of you out there had the great good fortune of having Marty McKibbin as a teacher. But what if? What if he had never come to McDonogh?
Bernard of Chartres, that twelfth century philosopher, went on to say that we dwarfs can see farther than those who came before us because we are standing on the shoulders of giants. Without Marty McKibbin, we at McDonogh whom he leaves behind could not see as far as we can see.
Marty, my friend, you have always inspired us. We will miss you.