MacGregor was a collector. He collected paintings, interesting art pieces from his worldly travels and gifts from his students. MacGregor also collected friends. Many Trinity-Pawling students (and a great number of parents) found refuge with MacGregor either in his Cluett 4 apartment which looked like a suite at Blenheim Palace, in his tidy admissions office with oil paintings adorning the wall or at his table at McKinney and Doyle. MacGregor always had time for the boys.
MacGregor loved to network. He arranged for two of his nephews to work at Trinity-Pawling (Rowan Driscoll and Ian Robinson) as well as orchestrated others to come to Pawling either as a student, teacher or trustee. He was a master at making personal connections. MacGregor always had time for the boys.
MacGregor often cancelled limo pick ups and would race down in his beloved Saab and then Volvo to Kennedy or Newark and meet a new international student outside customs making that frightened new student feel welcome, wanted and important. MacGregor would take in students from far away places over Winter and Spring holidays or long weekends giving them a local home away from home. MacGregor always had time for the boys.
Although MacGregor was of the older generation, he was that rare adult who embraced the modern world of social media. He loved reaching out to former students on Facebook catching up on news, planning to see them during his annual trip around the world or checking in if he felt one of his boys needed help. When MacGregor felt someone needed help, he rallied the troops and would send in the proverbial cavalry. He enjoyed helping people. MacGregor always had time for the boys.
MacGregor was the master of the pen. His college recommendation letters were legendary where college admissions counselors would hold his letters up as shining examples of how to write a letter. MacGregor used words like a painter uses colors. One regret he expressed during his last weeks is that he never wrote the books he had written in his mind. Those beautiful words sadly died with him and the world is a sadder place not to have read them.
MacGregor will be missed.
by Slade Mead