Remembering Iris Harrelson

In the late ’70s, I worked for a while at the Psychical Research Foundation, which then occupied a couple of houses on Duke University property and did scientific research into the possibility of life after death. My time there was a lever that has lifted my life on Earth ever since, including many deep and enduring friendships.

The PRF also involved many fascinating characters. One was Iris, a brilliant woman from Savannah with a strong personality, dyed red hair, and lots of talents. Her surname was pronounced “Mock,” but spelled with an “a” or two. She also mentioned occasionally that her brother was Ken “Hawk” Harrelson, the baseball player I remember most from his peak years with the Boston Red Sox, but who for many years has been the play-by-play announcer for the Chicago White Sox. Now 83, he is still calling games for what will almost certainly be the losing-ist team in major league history.

So this morning, after I read “Hawk Harrelson spent 3 decades calling the White Sox. Now he can’t stand to watch” in the NY Times (sorry, paywall), I looked up “Hawk Harrelson” plus “sister” and “Iris” and landed on this 2018 page, which has this passage from Hawk’s autobiography:

“My sister was a heavy smoker who had died of lung cancer when she was only 40. I was so proud of what Iris had done with her life after such a tough start, having to get married at the age of 14. She wrote a few books and became a gourmet cook. She also learned to speak fluent German, Russian, and Spanish. She lectured at Duke University and at the University of Toronto. She became an accomplished pianist. She also dabbled in acting and landed a few holes on stage in New York. And she was an interior designer, having turned my penthouse pad into a beautiful home.“But we had a falling out several years before she died when I turned down her request to borrow $250,000. She had wanted to open a nightclub in downtown Savannah and I didn’t have that much cash at the time. Plus, I didn’t think her business idea was a good one. When I refused her request, she walked out the door and I never saw her again.“Apparently, she never quit smoking.”

While I’m not surprised to learn that Iris is gone (she was older than me, and I’m seventy-seven), it’s a shock to hear that she died so young, so long ago, and so full of talent and promise.I’m also not surprised that there is almost zero information about her on the Web. But then, the Web was born long after she died, and is something of a whiteboard as well. So maybe this post (titled with her birth name) will at least help the world not completely forget one of its especially interesting and talented human beings.