Don Harrell Tucker

Don Harrell Tucker prided himself on his stubbornness and being ornery, but to those who knew him well, he was generous, irreverently funny, patient, and kind. He had a soft spot for children, or as he called them, little people, and for dogs. He had a child’s curiosity about the world around him—for learning new subjects and mastering them. He took immediate interest in whatever his children and grandchildren were interested in, and made time to be with those he loved. His impact was far-reaching, from the thousands of people he taught mathematics to, to the number of community members who met and grew to appreciate him.

Don was born near Brownwood, Texas – in a tent, in a snowstorm, according to Don. His father, Joseph Allen Tucker, was a day laborer, and his mom, Izora Wood Tucker, helped support the family working various jobs in the community. Don was the youngest of 6 boys, only 4 of whom survived infancy. He grew up in Throckmorton, Texas, where he excelled academically as well as on the football field. He said of his parents that they were the smartest people in Throckmorton County and that people would flock to them for advice with their problems and when in need of adjudication from conflicts. His mother, not believing Don would survive at birth, let her friends name him after a B-grade movie star popular at the time. Growing up, Don did manual labor with his dad, digging tanks for nearby ranches, and he was known for his skill in breaking horses, an experience which taught him that speaking softly and being gentle had more sway in teaching than using force. A friend, Mark Spencer Smith (“Corky”) lived with the Tuckers much of the time: his dad was Texas lieutenant governor, hence was needed in Austin. According to Corky, Izora was known to tell the boys, “You’ve gotta go outside if you’re gonna shoot those guns.” When Don was asked about Corky’s story, all Don would say was that it wasn’t exactly like that.

Looking for a pathway out of difficult life in Throckmorton, Don knew that schools gave football scholarships. But his high school didn’t have a football team. When Don petitioned the school administrators to establish a team, he was told they would do so if enough boys could be found to sign up. Don recruited enough players for a team, and he distinguished himself on the field during his last two years of high school. He tried out for the team at West Texas State in Canyon, Texas, but somehow missed the invitation to join that team, so had arranged to attend North Texas State in Denton, Texas, planning to room with his friend Dwight Nichols, and they both had jobs lined up to support themselves. At the last minute, football Coach Kimbrough from West Texas got word to Don that he had a scholarship, so Don attended West Texas instead, with room, board and tuition provided. He worked at a gas station in Canyon to help support himself and the family back home. Don majored in mathematics and physics and also received a teaching certificate during his four years. He definitely viewed football as merely his ticket out of Throckmorton, not a passion, but he was proud of his team’s victory in the Sun Bowl in 1951.

Don’s upbringing in rural West Texas during the Great Depression permanently imprinted his world view. He was tough and set high standards for himself and those near him. He appreciated and was a connoisseur of many things: musical instruments, wood-working, antique furniture, Toyota FJ40s, hunting dogs and rifles, leather craft, fly fishing tackle, oil paintings, Bokhara rugs, and Chinese porcelains. In Utah he was an avid outdoorsman, skier, and hiker. He led his children on adventures through remote parts of Utah and beyond. He applied this same level of dogged pursuit to varied fields of mathematics; never one to do anything halfway, just last fall, when he was asked to speak at friend Frank Stenger’s memorial service, Don spent some weeks researching Sinc functions, Frank’s area of expertise. In spite of his own passion for mathematical research, he was patient with others who were less passionate, making up jokes and memorable stories to keep students engaged.

Don married Mavis Hardy in 1951, and they moved to Austin for Don to attend graduate school at the University of Texas. He hadn’t decided whether to pursue math or physics, so he took coursework in both areas. After excelling in a physics class with Professor Malcolm Colby, Colby hired Don to work as a research scientist at the Balcones Research Center Military Physics Laboratory for a summer. In August of that year, mathematics professor R. L. Moore contacted Don, hoping to hire him as to teach for the department. Don said he couldn’t, that he was under contract to Balcones. Colby solved the problem by promptly firing Don. So Don became a teaching assistant in the math department at U.T. During this time, Don was in the Texas National Guard and rose to the rank of master sargeant. He was asked to go to Officer Candidate School, but decided he preferred an academic career. He completed his Ph.D. in mathematics in 1958, working with Prof. Hyman Ettlinger (though Moore continued to claim Don as one of his students; Don is included in the R. L Moore Legacy Project.) He and Mavis then moved to Salt Lake City where Don became a professor of mathematics, a position he would hold until his retirement in 2022, at age 92, after 64 years of service to the department. Don and Mavis had three children—Susan, Joseph, and John.

Don and Mavis divorced in 1973. In 1974, Don married Carolyn Connell; they had two children, Catherine and James, and divorced in 1998. After a few years apart, Don and Carolyn reestablished a close friendship.

Don’s profession took him various places over his career. In 1968 he had a sabbatical, first moving his family to Washington DC where he was a visiting professor for The Catholic University of America, then moving them to Marburg, Germany, where he was a Visiting Professor for Universitӓt Marburg and additionally lectured in Stuttgart, Germany as well as in Budapest and Szeged, Hungary. In 1969, he was invited to the Indian Institute of Technology in Kanpur, India where he was a guest lecturer. He later traveled to Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), Vietnam to present research at a conference. In 1995, he again presented related research at an anniversary of the same conference in Vietnam. Over the years, he traveled to over 30 speaking engagements to present his research in the U.S. and abroad. He hosted many researchers from around the globe to collaborate with him at the University of Utah and in the process built lifelong multicultural friendships.

Don’s areas of research were varied. He focused on differential equations and functional analysis. He authored over 40 papers and books on these topics and served as editor of compendia and organizer of mathematical conferences. He won several awards related to mathematics and to service; one of which he was most proud was the Distinguished Teaching Award and Distinguished Honors Professor for the University of Utah in 1980. He served in several positions for the Mathematical Association of America (MAA). He served on advisory boards for the Utah State Board of Education and the National Science Foundation (NSF). He assisted in the creation of the Honor’s College for the University of Utah, and then served as its Science Coordinator for (as he put it) ∞ years following. In 1985, he served as the Mathematics Coordinator and in 1986 as the Director for the NSF Inservice Teacher Development Program at the University. Utah Education Network (UEN) Channel 9 televised him teaching Algebra classes and ran the lectures for years.

Don taught classes his own way. He sometimes used a published textbook, but more often would write his own notes for classes. He said he did this because each class learns at its own pace and might be needing more detailed information on a new or particular topic. He would create cartoon-like characters and stories to help his students conceptualize abstract concepts; those became beloved jokes for generations of students who would bring him gifts and cartoons representing his stories. He detested using any electronic grading system, preferring to discuss quiz and test results individually with students. And he generally refused to provide a syllabus for his classes, again considering that to be too structured. He was known to teach while holding a student’s toddler on his hip to make sure the student didn’t miss class for lack of child care. Over the years, his office served as the babysitting headquarters for a number of children and dogs. He collaborated with many of his former students on their areas of research, long after they had left the University.

Don’s single-minded focus on mathematics meant that he sometimes neglected other things, such as filing income taxes. In about 2016 (?), two IRS agents showed up at his front door: Don had not filed taxes in 3 years at that point. No telling what stories he told them to get them not to haul him off to prison. A family member (whom he described disparagingly as “task-oriented”) spent many hours finding necessary documents, then accompanied him to an accountant to file his taxes, purchased a filing cabinet for Don, and set up an efficient filing system for him. Don refused to use it, of course, continuing his habit of stacking papers and mail on any available space in the house.

Don did have interests outside of mathematics and the University. In 1969 he bought some land at the top of Lambs Canyon, and with little assistance, built a family cabin, felling nearby trees for railings and posts and collecting stone from the site for walks and fireplaces. On weekends, the family would go to the cabin to play music, fly the Texas flag, hike, and sleep under the stars. It became the location of many family and math department gatherings and the source of many high tales of exploits of his kids.

Don volunteered over the years in his kids’ schools: at Rowland Hall and at Lowell Elementary (for the ELP program) for several years. He welcomed discussing mathematics and other topics with friends and family. In recent years, he tutored granddaughter Elisabeth, a math major at NYU. Don also volunteered on various city committees and was the primary force establishing Faultline Park in an area that had been slated for a high-rise development. For many years, Don was an active member of Wasatch Presbyterian Church, as an elder and as a Sunday School teacher with Carolyn (Don described his role with the rowdy kids as “bouncer.”) Another notable passion of Don’s was creative writing. The family is in the process of collating his many poems and stories. He was proud to have been recognized by the National Library of Poetry for his work. And of all his many academic publications, Don thought it ironic that one of his most cited articles was a story he wrote as a spoof on academic papers: “The Pickup Truck: Being a Scholarly Paper on the Efficiencies Effected by Modern Technology.” He had been asked by the National Council of Honors Colleges to write a scholarly article for their journal, so he wrote this story complete with footnotes and multiple references, about an attempted hunting trip with his friend Dr. Bill McCaa. The story, published in the NCHC journal in 2002, was their most downloaded article that year and is still available online.

Don, in his own words, written for his 50th high school reunion in 1997, wrote, “I have done pro bono teaching in the public schools for most of my professional life; everything from 18 month old toddlers to 80 year old retirees have been subjected to me at various times.

“I have travelled some over the years but never south of the equator. I have visited Germany twice, the usual countries in Europe and the Middle East, including twice in India and Southeast Asia (Thailand, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan and so on) and mainland China once. Curiously though, such travels have always been professional. One of my older brothers thinks I must surely be with the CIA.

“I am a hunter. I hunt deer and upland game birds, have a dog who loves me dearly and a wife who doesn’t. I have five children. The children are the issue of two marriages (I live in the land of polygamy both parallel and serial; I have practiced the second kind.)

“I am neither retired, nor according to my colleagues, retiring, though many of them wish I were both. I’m told that I’m mean, ornery, and cussed. I guess I learned it from the horses I broke back in Throckmorton.”

The impact Don had on his children, grandchildren, and community cannot be overstated. He influenced the way we think and learn. He claimed that at all times, one must have a “well-functioning bullshit detector.” This lesson, along with countless others, given to generations of math students, has produced scholars in many fields in many places around the world.

Don is predeceased by his former wife, Mavis Hardy Hibbard; his parents Joseph and Izora Tucker; his brothers Joseph Tucker, Derwood Tucker (Winnie Mae), and Jack Tucker (Doris), and his grandson George Scott Tucker.

Don is survived by his “most recent ex-wife”, Carolyn Connell; his children, Susan VanFrank (Kevin), Joseph Tucker (Jackie), John Hardy (Terrie), Catherine Tucker, and James Tucker (Christina); his grandchildren Brenna VanFrank (Ben Yang), Walter VanFrank, Jeffrey Tucker, Elizabeth Viernes (Ethan), Whitney Boyd (Christen), Jane Hardy (Alex Teixeira), Elisabeth Klehr, Peter Klehr, Kaia Tucker, and Noah Tucker (due in June); and seven great grandchildren including Noa Viernes, Charlie Viernes, Benji Viernes, Isaac Viernes, and Beatrice Yang.

A memorial event for Don will be at Stark’s Funeral Parlor, 5:00 – 7:00 p.m. on July 19.

For those who wish to do so, the family suggests a contribution to the Don H. Tucker Post Doctoral Fellowship in the Department of Mathematics at the University of Utah.