Andrew

Andrew was a young man of outstanding character who enjoyed making others happy. With a wonderful sense of humor and enthusiasm for life, he attracted a legion of friends while resolutely demonstrating a sensitivity and kindness for others. We have collected some remembrances from Bedford, Fishers Island, Hotchkiss, and Yale of the many facets of this extraordinary person.

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rememberences

A Prayer for Andrew

Through the depths of our despair and dismay, let us remember that death
Is not the end of the soul, nor is it the end of love. Love never dies.

Dear Lord,
Let us feel the grace of your presence with us today.
Surround us in your light, as we gather in this time of sorrow.
We miss Andrew so much: please give us strength to continue on.

We pray,
Treasure Andrew’s soul.
Hold him close. Embrace him in your divine love.
Enfold him please, in the peace of your eternal grace.

And for us who grieve for Andrew,
Please bring the gentle knowing that Andrew, who we love and have lost
is in a greater place.
That he is safe and he is healed. That Andrew is happy and full of laughter.
Please remind us that heaven is just a thin veil away from earth and that
Andrew is not beyond the reach of our hearts.

Bring the reassurance that love is eternal and bonds us forever,
And that Andrew lives on in spirit.
For with his life, as with his death, he has touched so many.

Thank you.
Amen

Andy Dwyer Father

Cindy and I want to thank you for coming to celebrate Andrew. We especially thank all of you who have sustained us in the last days. Our Andrew possessed an extraordinary combination of virtues.

When Cindy and I touch Andrew, we feel his kindness, creativity, determination and of course that wonderful sense of humor, but most of all-his love.

By now you know there were some things Andrew just didn’t like-getting out of bed before eleven, latin, three game Mets winning streaks, running-and worst of all the dreaded vegetables. Seeing a plump juicy cheeseburger topped by lettuce and tomatoes caused that famous head to drop. And the fastest you would ever see Andrew move was a dive for napkins to keep pickle juice from trickling into his cheesedog. When I gave a fatherly chat about his cholesterol levels and diet, in his elfin fashion he replied ” I guess I need more ketchup on my fries.”

But Andrew was a man of his loves-anyone who saw Andrew at Hotchkiss or Yale with face painted leading cheers for his teams and friends understood Andrew. He loved his schools and he loved his fraternity. For all those affected by this great tragedy know that our hearts and prayers are with you.

He loved his golf (particularly his family golf and most of all knocking off his Dad) the big screen TV, George Foreman, New York Jets, and of course his beloved New York Yankees. But Andrew’s true passion was his friends and family.

To see Andrew argue with Chris and the buddies over a Dwyer/Brooks house contest (and as you know with that mind he was seldom out-argued and on that rare occasion that he sensed he was losing momentum, the arms went up and he just declared victory) that was seeing him in his element.

Watching Andrew wrestle Hylando on the water tube reminded us that this selfless soul also possessed extraordinary toughness and competitiveness. Wrestling with his friends was Andrew in his element.

Playing home run derby on the beach with Jake was Andrew in his element, and dressed to the nines and dancing with his sisters, that was Andrew in nirvana. To see Andrew surrounded by his cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents from whom he took so much strength was to see Andrew connected.

To see Andrew seated between his adoring sisters regaling his parents with his latest adventures and capers or outwitting us all with his amazing intellect was to see Andrew most content. In this world of so many troubles we ask that when you remember Andrew you think of his kindness, his determination to help others, his joy for life and above all his love, and we ask that we all try just a little bit harder to spread his spirit.

Father and Son

The Father and Son Golf Tournament is played annually at the Garden City Golf Club on the second Monday in June. The tournament is rife with tradition, and I could not wait to team with Andrew-from an early age it was clear he was going to be a good golfer. I had played in the tournament with my father until his death in 1987 after that I waited for the time that my son would be old enough to want or dare take on the alternate shot format with his Dad. So in the early morning in June in 1991 some ten days before Andrew’s ninth birthday we left to drive down to the Garden City Golf Club for our tee off time.

Later we developed the tradition of staying at The Garden City Hotel the night before the tournament and treating ourselves like royalty. Andrew enjoyed getting to the room about six o’clock turning on the TV and settling in. There was something about the thick terrycloth wrapper that made him feel suave, and we would celebrate the occasion with a little room service (surprise, surprise cheeseburgers and fries with a coke). The Garden City Hotel was rebuilt around 1980 and the only Four Star Hotel on Long Island-I would call it luxurious, Andrew fancy, regardless it was first class. But its real distinction was that it was right across the street from the Golf Club which was of paramount importance if as was usual for us, we had an early morning tee time.

Playing early in the morning seems odd given Andrew’s teenage sleep habits. A night owl he almost never went to bed before two a.m. or awoke before ten. But Dwyers’ are not a patient people by nature and Andrew was no exception-the Father and Son Golf tournament took four and one half hours under the best of circumstances and almost six hours was the norm. He hated to wait to hit his shots. The only chance to play quickly and avoid incessant waits on the tee was to play early, so we did.

In the middle of June the NBA finals are the main sports attraction so father and son each happily stretched out on king sized beds, munched on ground sirloin, and talked sports. Andrew loved to talk sports or more particularly statistics, preferably about the Yankees or Jets, but really about almost any major sport. In his later years he lived on espn.com (although the Orbitz popup was a constant frustration), but even at a young age he studied the sports section. In his formative years he did not argue with me too much, unsure of himself and eager to please, he let my factual errors slide by, but he they were wrong. After going away to school and particularly during his Upper Mid year, he found his voice and began with quick jibes and commentary for which he is so remembered. It was a little smile and a knowing look-in my case frequently accompanied by something like “getting a little confused old man.” Andrew loved to compete and hate to lose, but I am getting ahead of myself, back to 1991.

We arrived promptly at 7:25 for our 7:30 tee off time to find we were paired with the Baitys, a father and son team from Winged Foot with a combined handicap of six, and the Galstons (the son being about my age and the father of course in his seventies) with a combined handicap about twenty-five strokes. We were given twenty-six strokes. The first hole is a short par four but has an intimidating carry of about 130 yards of high gorse. In fact, the distinguishing characteristic of Garden City, a splendid old course rated in the Country’s top fifty, is the high gorse and difficult carries.

Andrew was poised. By eight years old he had developed a wonderful easy swing; he was still little, not yet 4’6” and less than 80 pounds dripping wet but already was fully capable of shooting under 50 for nine holes from the women’s tees. Unfortunately we were not playing from the women’s tees, and the format was alternate shot and not best ball. Andrew would drive the odd holes and I the even, meaning it would be his drive of the crowded, spectator circled first tee. At 7:30 he stepped up and striped it. The crowd smiled.

Just as it looked like the ball would bounce in the dead center of the fairway, it lost steam and tumbled down short of the short grass and busied in the dreaded gorse. The younger Baity ripped a three wood 240 yards to the center of the fairway, and off we went to find our ball. Although the lie was treacherous, there was only 145 yards to the green and I envisioned a well struck 7 iron putting us on the green. I came up 144 yards short barely moving the ball. Andrew couldn’t get out of the rough, and I finally punched out to the fairway to lie 4. After he just missed the green with his shot, I popped it on and we four putted for our 10. The Baitys’ made three.

The second hole was no better. A short par three with a huge cavernous bunker in the front and a green sloping toward a deep bunker in the rear, the hole deems an accurate 8 iron off the tee. I went left into the deepest bunker on the course leaving Andrew no shot whatsoever, by the end of the carnage we were down in 8. The Baity’s calmly birdied their second in a row while the Galstons made 5.

As we approached the third tee, it was clear we were in for a very long day. The carry for the third hole was 170 yards, far past Andrew’s distance and my swing was already collapsing under the pressure of trying to look good to my son. We made 10 at the third, and the Baity’s 3. We were 28 at the end of three while the Baity’s were 8! (The Baity’s would shoot 75 and win low gross). As we walked to the fourth, Andrew turned to me and without the slightest smile told me, “Dad you have to play better if we are going to win this thing.”

I almost laughed and then looked at Andrew’s resolute jaw, and I never looked at Andrew the same way thereafter. Yes, this was a gentle good looking toe head with an open friendly demeanor, a boy who seldom was critical of others and who prized loyalty, but he loved to compete and never wanted to lose. Andrew had amazing grit and determination; he just didn’t flaunt it.

The 18th hole at Garden City, a par three over a small pond, finishing right in front of the Club House and adjacent to the starting hole-the green is always jammed with our spectators as it also serves as the practice green. Somewhere during our round our goal had shifted from winning, to breaking 100, to making one par. The 18th was our opportunity. If all went right, I would hit a 6 iron on the green and Andrew would putt it close enough for me to make the par. Unfortunately I hit a sharp hook into a greenside bunker that was six feet deep. So much for our par! As Andrew descended down the steps of the bunker and disappeared from view, the spectators started to buzz captivated by the little boy with a baseball cap and the daunting shot. I could not see the swing, but there was a dull thud and then the ball softly fluttered straight up out of the trap and settled less than 18 inches from the cup. A huge roar erupted from the crowd and he emerged with that ear-to-ear grin and the satisfaction of a job very well done.

Andrew would develop into a wonderful bunker player but that was perhaps his finest shot. It did not matter that I would yip on the putt, or that we finished 114 out of 125 teams (yes, we did beat some teams), our day ended with his special shot that would bring us both back.
We did not go home empty handed as Andrew won the award for the youngest player. We returned often to play in the Tournament and never played well-this was surprising because Andrew and I would develop into a very strong team consistently winning the Parent/Child at Bedford as well as the Hay Harbor tournament and Weickoff Cup in Fishers Island. It was always great fun and we knew that when the time was right our day would come.

Ben Cameron Friend from Fishers & Jupiter Island

For Andrew Knox Dwyer

If I had one wish today, I would safely say, that I would want to remember our last conversation. As far as I can tell, from one to another cell, I remember almost everything anyway. But to share some of your cheer, or a couple more beers, for a couple more years would give my heart some peace. I can hear your laugh, you goon of a friend, so loyal you were to me…and to every other God dammed kid you met…and now your soul is free. Compassion and passion are very different things, yet you made it seem so easy…in your family, in your heart, on the links, even in your farts. You made it easy to combine your water with wine, fun never knew such an advocate. And how you loved to compete, not to mention eat, could you- would you have ever worn a suit? And I can skim through the pages of summers past, comparing our ages, and think of the one time I beat you in Beirut. So in the clouds you reside with a soundtrack of the tide and broken-record battle cry repeating. And if the Jets ultimately lose, you’ve got your Foreman and your booze, you’re in heaven, you Dogg…though it was fleeting. But I am glad I had the chance, to watch you “get down” and dance, to see you flirt with romance, and spill beer on your pants. And I can sigh someday, and safely day, to my son as he plays, that sport which you slayed, that I remember our last conversation

Memories of Andrew

Firstly, I think of playing a late half-round of golf on Fisher’s Island with a couple of beers in the back of the cart…since I would give up on my game after about six holes, and Andrew…wel…beer went along with most every activity after 5:00 pm.

He loved that golf course, and he never refused to play with me, even when he knew my game would ultimately deteriorate into ‘picking up’ every other hole.

Secondly, I remember New Year’s Eve, 2003. It wasn’t a stellar year, in Andrew’s and my eyes. Rawleigh had been thrown in a pool, and he and Emily Parsons went home early. So Swedge (he hated that name, so I’ll stop using it now) and I went back to his house to try to catch up with Elly, Nancy, and Blue. Alas, they were in bed, so Andrew and I hung out on the steps between the pool room and his “Love Pad”. I remember talking with him about how everyone always scurries around to find New Year’s plans every year…he said that what he loved about New Year’s at Jupiter Island was that it was guaranteed…he always had a spot at the table. I think he always will.

I’ll always remember his voice. The way he mumbled when his sandwich had pickles, or when his approach shot barely missed the green. The way he danced at a beach party (how those girls would swoon!). Always a presence, always a friend.

Chris Brooks Cousin, Friend from Hotchkiss

The Hotchkiss Magazine

Members of the Class were shocked and deeply saddened by the tragic death of ANDREW DWYER in an automobile accident in January. Many wrote in to Alumnet to share their feelings, and many more attended the memorial service for Andrew in Bedford, NY. Andrew’s cousin, CHRIS BR00KS, wrote the following tribute to him for Class Notes: “Sitting here watching the NCAA Basketball Tournament, I can’t help but remember how much Andrew loved March Madness. Every year Andrew, his father, and I would pick our teams from the tournament bracket and watch the games to see whose teams won the most games. Andrew loved this time of year, but not as much as he loved family, friends, sports teams and Hotchkiss. Whether making announcements for the paddle team with J0HNHY LAND, playing lacrosse on Centennial, avidly cheering at sports events, or participating in the school fashion show, Andrew embraced everything that Hotchkiss had to offer. He was like an unofficial school mascot, embodying the Hotchkiss spirit more than anybody else that I knew.

Academically, he was one of the smartest people I knew, even though he would not oppose sacrificing doing his work to pull off a prank, play a paddle tennis match, or watch one of his beloved teams on television or in person; nevertheless, he always received excellent grades. While he initially received the nickname “Dogg” because of his habits and mannerisms, I think CUSHING DONELAN and NATE THORNE put it best when they stated the nickname was more appropriate because Dogg was truly man’s best friend. At Hotchkiss, Andrew always supported his friends on the sports field and was always available to help his friends with their problems. Not a day went by when Andrew took Hotchkiss for granted. While we all loved Hotchkiss for the most part, he was the one person who never uttered a complaint about the School because he knew how lucky he was to be at such a place, where he was able to have such experiences. He enjoyed every day that he was at Hotchkiss and the friendships he was able to form with his classmates and the faculty. While those of us who were lucky enough to know him will always have an emptiness inside, we will all happily remember that his friendship made not only our lives at Hotchkiss better but also our lives in general that much more enjoyable for all of us.”


Memorial Remeberence

The past few days have been tough for me, but what has helped me the most is the feeling that wherever I go, I know that Dogg is still with me. Today we should be celebrating his life because I know that he is looking down on us telling us to smile and not to feel bad for him. I remember, when Andrew was younger, he couldn’t stand it when his mom would leave him to go somewhere. One time in particular, when we were four, both of our parents went out to lunch and left us at home. He threw the biggest temper tantrum and grabbed the phone dialing random numbers hoping to get in touch with his mom. The funny thing is that while he became the most laid back person I knew, his love for his family was still as strong as it was that day.

At Hotchkiss, he was the ultimate fan of his friends. To him, the best team he was on was his team of friends. It didn’t matter what sport was being played, you knew that you could count on the Dogg to show up and to bring a crowd with him. I can still picture Dogg and company at Hotchkiss hockey games, controlling the music, with his face painted and smashing garbage cans with lacrosse shafts to make noise. At times the administration thought that Dogg was over the top, but the fact was that he was doing it to support his friends. For the rest of my life, wherever I play hockey, I will always imagine Dogg hanging over the glass screaming for me because I know that is what he would have been doing if he were here today.

A true testament to people’s love of Dogg has been displayed the past few days at his house. Whether it is friends from Hotchkiss, Bedford, Yale, Fishers or Florida, many people who consider him a great friend, came to show support for their family. And because we all had such a deep a connection to Dogg, it was easy to meet these friends of his and make them feel like friends of mine. These are people, that before recently I did not know well, but now I feel that I will remain close to them forever because of the common bond that we share in being friends with Dogg.

Integrating two groups of friends was Dogg’s specialty. For most people, it is extremely tough joining great friends from different places. But for Dogg, he didn’t classify his friends from where he met them, he felt that all his friends from different places could be together at any point and get along.

The last night I saw him. He was in New York City with his Frat brothers. However, this did not stop him from calling a couple of his Hotchkiss friends to meet up. When we showed up at the bar, we were greeted with a huge smile from the Dogg, who proceeded to introduce us to his friends from Yale. We stayed for a few hours and had a great time with him. I am happy to say that the last picture I have of him was a huge smile while getting into a cab saying goodbye. Andrew lived everyday of his life to its fullest. As an avid Yankee fan, which caused several arguments between the two of us, he lived the dream of hanging out with Derek Jeter at Toad’s Place in New Haven. He lived his life with no regrets because he never held anything back. I know he’s smiling down on us today because the only things that he’d frown about were a loss by his sports teams or a bad shot in golf. Never in my life have I met anyone so devoted to his family or his friends. He was my best friend and the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother.

To Andy, Cindy, Nancy and Elly, while you may have lost your son or your brother, you now have 22 others who will never replace him but will be here for you guys forever.

Elly Dwyer Rice Sister

While having two tough, very nosy older sisters would daunt many boys, Andrew reveled in it. He loved to hang out with Nancy and me. For example, at last year’s Yale-Harvard weekend, I went out on Saturday night with Andrew and his group. At one point during the night, one of the boys turned to me and asked, “Why are you hanging out with us, don’t you have your own friends?”

Andrew and I turned to each other in shock. Uncomprehending. In our minds I was hanging out with my friends and my best friend in particular. Andrew quickly turned to his friend stating “My sisters are my best friends.”

Hanging out with Nancy and I was always a top priority for Andrew. At Yale, Andrew and I would enjoy weekly dinners in which he would always get a cheeseburger and we would laugh about our latest TV obsession or prank.

I have been so fortunate to spend a lot of time with Andrew. After three weeks of family time in Florida and a family wedding, including a long car trip with just the two of us, one would think Andrew would be sick of hanging out with his sister.

However, on his very first Sunday back at Yale, Andrew came to my apartment to watch his cherished Jets play. As we loaded up on Doritos, peanut M&Ms and beer, I remember thinking how lucky I was. With all the time Andrew and I had spent together, Andrew still wanted to spend more time with me. After the Jets lost, Andrew turned to me completely heartbroken and confided, “Elly, I really need to watch some Joe Millionaire right now.”

I imagine Andrew now in a ridiculous leather lazy-boy with built-in fridge surrounded by those he loved. I laugh when I think of the giant TV he must have. I can see him cracking a beer and a smile. A place where all food is made on the George Foreman Grill and the only ingredients are meat, bread and cheese.

And I have peace because I know he is laughing, and on occasion dancing. I thank God for blessing my life so much with Andrew.

My best brother and my best friend.

I Love You.

Elly

Erica Youngstrom Reporter at The Yale Daily News

Andrew Dwyer ’05 was a late-night eater and a feeder of friends.

One night last week at the Delta Kappa Epsilon house, for example, Dwyer asked those gathered if they wanted anything to eat. After ordering food for everyone who wanted it, Dwyer picked up the tab.

His friends say this kind of generosity was typical of Dwyer, who was well known for his friendliness and concern for others.

At The Hotchkiss School, the Connecticut boarding school he attended before Yale, Dwyer was known for taking care of his classmates.

“He was famous in the dorms here at Hotchkiss for providing sustenance for his friends at late hours, all hours of the day,” said Chris Burchfield, Dwyer’s senior year English teacher and varsity lacrosse coach. “A really fun part of the tradition for Andrew and all of his buddies was ~ getting together late at night, probably having studied for several hours and taking a break, cramming into one room and making hamburgers or sandwiches or something like that. It established a real bond between that group of friends.

A native of Hobe Sound, Fla., Dwyer planned to major in political science and, friends said, “never met a prank he didn’t like.” He was nicknamed “Dogg” by his friends at Yale and always was best known for his interest in athletics and spending time with his friends.

Dwyer spent Thursday night in New York City with friends from DKE. He was returning to campus with eight DKE brothers when the sport utility vehicle they were driving collided with a tractor-trailer. Dwyer and three other students died of injuries resulting from the crash.

At Yale, Dwyer’s deepest interests lay with the “simple pleasures” of life, friends said. He especially enjoyed his involvement with his fraternity, as well as sports and opportunities to relax with friends.

“He always really lifted everyone’s spirits,” said Tony Bellino’05, Dwyer’s roommate. “He was everyone’s friend.”

Andrew Levy ’05, a close friend, said Dwyer genuinely cared about the way others felt and that he brought out the best in people.

“The thing that made Andrew unique was that he liked everyone. I never heard him say a bad word about anyone,” Levy said.

Bellino described him as an avid golfer who also enjoyed playing paddle tennis with his family. Dwyer would also play squash regularly with Eric Diamond ’05, another of his suitemates.

“He was a sports nut,” Bellino said. “He was like a sports encyclopedia.”

Frequently, Dwyer would regale friends with sports facts while watching games on television, his suitemates said. Often he would mention background information before the announcer’did.

Dwyer was also an avid TV buff and loved to relax with suitemates watching “Seinfeld,” “The Simpsons” and “Joe Millionaire” ?? which his suitemates said he watched seven times. Last Christmas., he. was excited to receive a TiVo, a device that allows viewers to record, pause, or rewind television program.

A particular favorite of Dwyer’s was “The Lord of the Rings,” the newest installment of which he saw as soon as it opened on Wednesday, Dec. 18, despite the fact that it was finals week.

“All of us had finals on Wednesday, and we went to the 12:05 a.m. showing,” Diamond said.

Dwyer’s teachers and coaches at Hotchkiss also remembered Dwyer as fun-loving and upbeat.

“His main interest was people. He was very much a people person. He had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye most of the time,” said John Virden, Dwyer’s faculty adviser at Hotchkiss.

Burchfield said he was not surprised to hear that when Dwyer spent time away from school, it was with a group of friends. He said Dwyer’s most unique gift was the way in which he connected with others.

“He was rarely without a grin on his face and he had this sort of charming way of glancing at you with this half a grin that you knew would be a full grin the minute he made eye contact with you,” Burchfield said. “It was just funny the way he could reach you.”

During day to day life at Hotchkiss, Dwyer enjoyed spending time with his many close friends, particularly fellow athletes. Burchfield recalled that Dwyer was especially close to his lacrosse teammates.

“The joy of playing and being on a team was where Andrew’s heart was, and he was a loved teammate,” Burchfield said.

Burchfield said Dwyer was a strong student and a talented writer who was never afraid to say what he thought during class discussions.

Both Virden and Burchfield recalled Dwyer’s sense of humor. While Virden said Dwyer “never met a prank he didn’t love,” Dwyer could also thoughtfully incorporate humor into many other situations.

“He could make a comment that was funny but that was also relevant to what was being discussed, and that was a pretty amazing talent,” Burchfield said.

Dwyer’s friends at Yale said he was very busy with DKE events during the week after winter break, but also continued to spend time with them and be there when they needed encouragement.

“The last time I saw the kid, he was trying to cheer me up,” said C.J. Orrico’05, Dwyer’s suitemate.

Many other friends remembered Dwyer’s efforts to lift their spirits, whether it was by inviting them to go out for a good time, bringing them a snack, or simply offering a bright smile and some comic relief.

“He was the most loving, caring, compassionate person I ever met,” Levy said. “Ever.”

The Fishers Island Gazette

Andrew Knox Dwyer, 20, of Hobe Sound, Fla., died Jan. 17 in an automobile accident returning to Yale from a trip to New York City. His sudden death brought hundreds of mourners to his memorial service Jan. 21 in Bedford.

Andrew’s exuberance for life and the sheer joy he took in his love of ‘family and friends was the universal theme expressed at the service by those who knew and loved him.

His sisters Nancy and Elly talked of the unusual closeness among the three siblings. Their brother was their best friend, a young man who shrugged off any notion that it was strange to have an older sister join him and his friends for an evening.

“I cannot begin to imagine life without Andrew,” Nancy said. “He was a gift that entered our lives and changed our family forever.

While immediate memories of Andrew focused on his “wacky, goofy” side and his unquestionable loyalty to his friends, there were other elements, his deep intelligence and quick wit that were so much a part of his personality.

Andrew was seldom out-argued and planned to major in political science at Yale. He quickly found solutions to problems, always with a selflessness that led to a multitude of friendships. Nearly all of his friends, whether from Bedford, Hotchkiss, Fishers Island or Yale, considered him their best friend. As a testament to Andrew, those disparate friends now acknowledge a lifelong bond, just having known him.

Andrew was born June 21, 1982 in Bedford, the son of Cynthia and Andrew Dwyer. He was a 1998 honor roll graduate of Rippowam-Cisqua School in Bedford, where he played three varsity sports, and a 2001 honor roll graduate of Hotchkiss School in Lakeville, Conn., where he played varsity lacrosse and captained the paddle tennis team. Andrew was a member of Yale’s Class of 2005 and of the fraternity Delta Kappa Epsilon.

An obsessive sports fan, Andrew, known as “Dogg” to his friends, was a tough competitor as well. He and a friend resurrected the dormant paddle tennis team at Hotchkiss and built a new team that defeated Salisbury for the first time in school history.

In spite of the paddle tennis, lacrosse, pick-up basketball games, pool and tubing in front of the Dwyer’s house on Fishers Island, Andrew had one overriding passion in sports: golf. Hi’s 5.3 handicap tamed courses at both the Fishers Island Club and the Bedford Golf & Tennis Club. It was acknowledged that only an early morning tee time could arouse Andrew, who liked to sleep late.

He also loved spending time at Isabella Beach with his childhood friend Jake Grand, always’acknowledging Fishers Island. as his favorite place to be.

Andrew is remembered affectionately for his idiosyncrasies and his generosity: he embraced cheeseburgers and cheesedogs, never wavering in his rejection of vegetables. He ordered food for friends, day or night, often picking up the tab. He was a sports encyclopedia and never met a prank or a person he did not like. He had the uncanny ability to weave humor into serious situations and always looked for ways to lift the spirits of others. “He was the most loving, caring, compassionate person I ever met. Ever,” a friend said.

Andrew’s first word was, “Elly. ” Speaking at his memorial service, Elly said, … I know he is laughing, and on occasion dancing. I thank God for blessing my life so much with Andrew. My best brother and my best friend.”

George W. Bush Former President of The United States



Jake Grand Friend from Bedford and Fishers Island

I am going to begin my talk today with something, that I believe, describes and encompasses Andrew’s personality for many different reasons. Many of you may not have known this, but Andrew and I liked to sit up at night by the fire-with hot chocolate and whipped cream, and philosophize about life. Sometimes we read poetry, and when things would get really crazy, sometimes we would act out the poems through interpretive dance. I would like to read one poem today that describes Andrew so very well. It’s called, “I love,” and it is from, the Coors Light Brewing company.

I love playing two hand touch,
Eatin’ way too much,
Watchin’ (the Yankees) my team win… and twins,
I love quarterbacks eatin’ dirt,
Pom-poms, and short skirts,
Fans who won’t quit,
And- those twins,
And I love you too.

For those of you who do not know me, I was Andrew’s best friend growing up, and despite what the Dwyers might say, our relationship was entirely heterosexual. Over the years I began to know Andrew, not by his name Andrew, but more by the weird nick-names me and my friends, and his friends called him, and each other. Just to name a few, Stanker, Stankie, Stank-head, Stankleberry, Stank-in-a-box, Stanky-D-Stankerwawa, Stank-D, Drew, Dwyer, Dogg, squirt, swedge, that-guy, younger-guy, older-guy, too cool-guy, awkward-guy … and if you ever called the Dwyer’s house and had Mrs. Dwyer pick-up the phone, you would of course know him as, AAAANNNNDDDRRREEEWWW!!

Andrew had the most amazing sense of humor ever since I can remember, and only looking back on things now do I realize just how hilarious he was. I remember one Halloween when we were pretty young, and we didn’t have costumes for some party, so we had the great idea of going as twins. As we arrived at the party, we suddenly realized that maybe wearing the exact same shirt, pants, shoes, and belt wasn’t as cool as we thought, it was even a little weird, but Andrew had the solution. He told people that he dressed up as a boy, and any time someone would mention that I was dressed the exact same, he would simply reply, “Jake came as a boy too? No way? What are the chances of us both dressing up as a boy?” or, he would say, “Jake wants to be like me.”

I remember another time when we were really young, skiing in Bromley with the Dwyers. Andrew and I were convinced, positive, that one of us had skinny enough arms that were just long enough to reach up a candy machine and steal a snickers bar or something. Well, after endless attempts, I think he reached something, but he also managed to get his entire arm,from shoulder to hand, stuck in the machine. I remember hearing some hotel staff guy call the front desk and say, “Aaah, yeah, we have a problem, some kid has his whole arm stuck in the vending machine.” It turned out after minutes of trying to figure out how to get the arm out, Mr. Dwyer got the brilliant idea to tell Andrew to release whatever he was clenching so tightly, and of course his arm popped right out.

Andrew and I could really never do anything too serious together, I think because we would always be making each other laugh and we would completely lose our focus. In tennis, we would play doubles together all the time. We would be the better team on the court by far, but even if we were playing 9-years olds, we would lose. All it took was one comment about the other team -one joke, and we were finished. Once it started, it would never end. How could I focus on hitting the ball when the shot before was hit by Andrew and he would moan like Monica Seles, fall down, or just try to peg the other team right in the nuts. It didn’t matter who was winning, we only cared about having fun.

I think maybe the most fun we ever had was the summer after our senior year, living on Martha’s Vineyard. We had a great feeling about the summer from the start when we tried our luck with the delivery services. We orderd all the essentials, American cheese, meat, sausage, thirty packs of beer, and milk, because we didn’t want be suspicious. We were a little nervous about the law, and the whole having to be 21 to buy beer thing, but our feelings were soon laid to rest when we heard Delivery, followed by…”WHAT’S UUUUUPPPPPP, YYYEEAAHH”, of our best friend Sam Goodhue, who had recently acquired a job as a delivery man. I was also pleased to find that Andrew’s anonymous friend who was living with us, Hylando, was extremly nice and funny. But I knew he was a good dude from the start because I had never met anyone who looked like he was seperated at birth from Andrew, and I knew, that was another good sign. That summer, I think Andrew broke several different records. Cheese Dogs – 200, Cheese Burgers – 175, new creations involving meat and American cheese – 100, most hours of trashy TV in one summer – 80, most time spent being pissed off (he was in Massachusetts and he couldn’t stand the Red Sox) – 60 hours, most consecutive hours on the beach – 20, shortest career in the Ice Cream Scooping business – 3 hours, and the most impressive record of them all, keeping a job for 6 weeks of the summer at the mobile station-but only actually working 5 days.

The single most amazing aspect about Andrew had to be his heart. His crazy and wacky personality was never driven by attention, but I think he just really loved to make people laugh. In a way, I was always jealous of all the guys who went to Hotchkiss because I knew you were having so much fun with Andrew. Looking back on it now, I’m glad you guys appreciated him as much as I did, I’m glad he had friends like you guys here today. You guys meant the world to Andrew, and now you mean the same to me, I love you guys.

Mr. and Mrs. Dwyer, Elly and Nance, we sure have had a lot of fun together. Thank you for letting me be a part of your family for so long, I love you guys with all my heart. And Andrew-he once told me that he wanted me to be the best man at his wedding.

Well, Andrew, you always have been my best man, and you always will be. You were the best friend in the entire world to me, till we meet again. Stank D-I miss you, and I love you.

Jamie duPont Friend from Fishers Island

Last year around Christmas of 2002, I was sitting at my desk at Syracuse counting the days and even minutes until I could go home for winter break. It was a weekend, and in the early hours before bedtime, I was chatting to various people on line telling them about my night. I was surprised when my phone lit up and began to ring, as it was very late and I wasn’t expecting a call. I looked at the caller ID and a huge smile came across my face. It read “Dwyer” and his phone number underneath. I answered, Helloooo?” as I greeted him with an “I know who is kind of hello”. He said, “Jamie, this is Andrew.” That was the standard Dwyer greeting whenever he called. We chatted for a bit and then he revealed that he had a surprise for me.

Before I tell you I have to mention that, the Austin Powers movie Goldmember came out the summer of 2002 about mid July. That summer I can remember the countless nights Andrew, Jake, Kyley and I would recite every and any line we could remember from that movie; and then laugh about it for a good 20 minutes. For example… “Not you Frow, not you Number Two, not you anonymous henchman holding a wrench, not you arbitrarily turning knobs to make it seem like you are doing something …” That was a favorite. There are many others but I will never forget the night that Andrew called me. I must tell you that Goldmember was not out on video or DVD, so we were anxiously awaiting the release of that.

Well, Andrew indeed had downloaded Goldmember onto his computer and called me at my favorite part of the movie. He said, “Get ready, you have to listen closely.” I was confused but at last I heard the quirky voice of Goldmember and Dr. Evil impersonating a truck driver. Goldmember was telling Dr. Evil where he was and what the situation was and Dr. Evil, appropriately wearing a truckers hat, pleasantly replies,” Copy that you big pile of monkey nuts!” It’s just one of those things that gets me every time. And Dwyer remembered, even though we never saw the movie together, and even though we hadn’t talked to each other for awhile, he still remembered my favorite part of the dumbest movie ever made!

It was not a great start to college for me that first semester, so to hear from friends from Fishers always made me the happiest, especially from Dwyer because there wasn’t anything he said that didn’t make me laugh. It’s a silly conversation that we had, but it made me feel so happy and thankful that I have friends like him. Andrew is missed more and more each day and will always be in my heart. I miss you Dwyer… you big pile of monkey nuts!

John Flinn Friend from Hotchkiss

The Legend of the Dogg

Many were unaware that at first Andrew hated being called Dogg, the nickname that would eventually come to represent every facet of his persona. The origins of the name stem from “Dwyer-Dog” or “D-Dog,” a name given to Andrew by Chucky von Althann during our infamous Lower-Mid year in Tinker Dormitory at the Hotchkiss School. Chucky, more intimately known as “as the Count” had coined “Dwyer-Dogg” because he felt that Andrew ‘s pudgy features resembled those of a St. Bernard. For one reason or another, the name infuriated Andrew and as a result, we began calling him “D-Dog” all the time.

As Lower-Mid year progressed and the name became increasingly popular, “D-Dog` was shortened to “Dog” and then modified to “Dogg”, referencing the contemporary rap superstar Snoop Dogg ( the D.O. double-G). By altering it from its original form, these developments lessened Andrew’s hatred for the name. In time, his strong dislike faded into indifference, and then gradually began to grow into a pride and love for the name. And it became more and more popular, “Dogg” began to represent to all of us Andrew’s witty, laid back and indulgent personality, his hysterically funny sense of humor, and most of all, his unwavering loyalty to his friends.

By the spring, with lacrosse and beach volleyball seasons in full swing, Dogg, sporting his classic polo shirt, khaki shorts and reef flip-flops attire, was in full form. Tinker dorm pranks, most often masterminded by the Dogg, were setting new standards for Hotchkiss students to aspire to for years to come. Targets such as the Strimitron and Duckman nightly fell victim to title waves, naked room cleaning or 3 am alarm clock wake-ups. And it was in the midst of this utter chaos that the legend of the Dogg was created.

It must have been sometime in early May, during one of our many hour-long lunch sessions that followed a snack bar breakfast and a quick game of mid-morning volley ball, when the blueprints for the Legend of the Dogg were developed. Located at our favorite table in the corner of the cafeteria, several great minds of what would soon come to be known as the ISO Crew began to devise a plan to create a Hotchkiss icon of the mischievous spirit to which all Hotchkiss students aspire. Amidst, gut-turning, tear- jerking, head aching laughter, the necessary steps were made to build such a hero status.All agreed it was critical that this figure could never be called by his birth name, but most always be referred to by students and teachers alike by his legendary nickname. Even the hero would refer to himself in the third person. This would lay the foundation necessary to develop his mystic eminence. Stories of his heroic feats would be passed down from rising upper classmen to incoming lower classmen, taking place as eternal Hotchkiss fables. And so was born the LEGEND of the DOGG.

During our time at Hotchkiss, Dogg was always at the center of the action. He was a weekly comic presence at all-school Auditorium meetings, most often with Hylando. Whether he was reporting on various issues, such as victories by the Hotchkiss Varsity Paddle Tennis Team, or running for student body president, Dogg was unmatched in his ability to make the whole school erupt in laughter. His lighthearted sense of humor was infectious to all students, from the youngest prep to the oldest student.

And embedded in every one of his performances was his devout love for Hotchkiss. It seemed that all in attendance would leave Auditorium free from their daily worries and appreciative of their privilege to be part of the greater Hotchkiss experiences. Dogg’s tremendous school spirit, expressed in such forms as face painting, trashcan banging and DJ-ing was present at Baker Field and Schmidt Rink for every varsity boys home football and hockey game and on the sidelines of the field hockey field, where he was the varsity girls’ goalie technician.

On so many levels, Andrew was an integral part of the Hotchkiss community. During his Hotchkiss career, Dogg received few personal accolades. Andrew was not captain of a varsity sports team although he was a two year varsity lacrosse player and the best back yard athlete I have ever seen. He was not school or class president – he and Hylando were denied a sure presidential campaign victory by the infamous furry “Dean’s Wing scandal of 2000.” He was not even a dorm proctor, turning down a position in Memorial Dormitory to remain with his friends in Dana. But Dogg did not need these official leadership positions to be a daily presence in the Hotchkiss community. More than any other member of our class, Dogg changed Hotchkiss for the better. He made the Hotchkiss experience a constant joy to be part of. And it was because of his unmatched personality, not a cafeteria scheme, that Dogg’s legendary status grew to its mystic proportion.

Of all the legendary Dogg stories, it seems that every one of Andrew’s friends and family has their own favorite. I have so many great memories of Andrew, but of all of them, I think my fondest is picturing Dogg welcoming Andrew Hughes, Ernesto Cruz and me as we drove into New Haven in November 2001 for our first Yale-Harvard football weekend. My first semester at college had not been the easiest. Although I liked the school very much, I missed my Hotchkiss friends constantly. Anyway it could not have been more than forty degrees outside and Andrew, decked in a short sleeve short golf shirt, khaki shorts and his furry moose slippers began running from his dorm towards our car. Wearing his famous ear-to-ear grin, he jumped up on the car and began banging on the roof, making such a ruckus. He had been waiting for us all day. Of all Andrew’s qualities that the name “Dogg” embodied, loyalty was definitely the most prominent. Andrew was the best friend anyone could ask for. He was always up for a good time, always there for a great laugh. But he was also there whenever you had fallen, with an open hand to pick you up. His daily exuberance made everyone he came in contact with enjoy life that much more.

After a number of bear hugs, the four of us began walking back to Andrew’s dorm room. A weekend of classic ISO mischief lay ahead. And for the first time in several months, I felt content, for I was finally reunited with my best friend, the Dogg.

John Hyland Friend from Hotchkiss

The only other times that I have spoken in front of an audience this large, I always had Andrew by my side as we addressed the entire Hotchkiss Community -reporting on our paddle tennis matches, introducing our Taft Day video or making our campaign speech in our bid to become Hotchkiss Co-Presidents. And by the way, Andrew and I were always convinced that we won that election even though the Hotchkiss administration claimed otherwise. I always felt confident during those speeches with Andrew, even though I am not the most gifted public speaker. Dogg’s presence gave me a special confidence and made me far more able and humorous. Our speeches were always intended to be well done and funny, and I think we were successful. I know that Dogg is at my side today, and I stand here before you confident about what I will say to all of you about Dogg.

I knew about Andrew before I ever even met him. In my first couple of weeks as a Hotchkiss lower-mid, I was very perplexed by the countless numbers of faculty members and students who called me, “Andrew.” When I would correct them, they would say, “Well, you look just like Andrew Dwyer.”

The confusion never stopped throughout our time at Hotchkiss, and to this day people still call me “Andrew” or “Dogg” I don’t even correct them anymore. Neither Dogg nor I ever thought the resemblance was that incredible even though my own mother could not tell us apart on the lacrosse field, without our different jersey numbers.

It just seemed inevitable that we would become friends and when we finally got to know each other, we found out that we had plenty more in common besides our striking good looks. Dogg and I did just about everything together at Hotchkiss. We singlehandedly resurrected a dormant paddle tennis team that consisted of three people when we started and under our leadership, defeated Salisbury for the first time in school history. We were always partners and remained unbeaten. We beat them so badly that that rivalry no longer exists. The team continues to thrive today even after our graduation.

We also were fervent Hotchkiss hockey fans and would go to games with a bunch of our friends, dressed all in blue, with painted faces and signs and trash cans in support of our team. We were so loud that Taft put a picture of us on their website, commending 6s for our spirit. We played the same position on the lacrosse team, wrote top-ten lists for the school newspaper and as we often took many of the same classes, we frequently studied together. We did so much together that the names “Dogg” and “Hylando” became synonymous with each other. Outside of school, we did plenty of other activities together, too. We spent a summer living together in Martha’s Vineyard and often attended Yankee games together, always cheering hard for our Bronx Bombers.

If you have not been able to tell already, our lives pretty much revolved around sports. And no matter what the sport or game, we were almost always on the same team, whether it be golf, pool or even drinking games, and we almost always won. Our friends would accept their defeats by mockingly calling us “backyard athletes”, even though we both played varsity sports. But we took that to mean that our athletic talents covered a wide range of areas. Individually, we were very competitive with one another. We would have tubing battles off the back of the Dwyer’s boat to see who could knock the other off the tube first while Mr. Dwyer drove the boat at high speeds and often into sharp turns. Unfortunately, Dogg’s recent weight gain made our last battles fairly one-sided, and I was soundly defeated. Pick-up basketball games were very intense, especially when we were on opposite sides, and we eventually decided that we should always be on the same team just as we were in all other sports and activities. But our fiercest competition was to see who could reach 200 pounds first. And anyone who knows Andrew, could tell you that we did not attempt to achieve this goal by lifting weights.

Just about the only activity that we didn’t share was playing football. While I played, Dogg did not, yet he attended as many games as he possibly could. He was always our number one fan – he led the cheers on the sidelines, often with his face painted Hotchkiss blue and frequently perched on his Miller Lite blow-up sofa, which he would position alongside the playing field. He was always every bit as excited as we were when we won, and was so happy for me when I received some post-season accolades. I will never forget that famous smile, that he would greet me with, after games. But this was Andrew-a true friend, incredibly selfless and loyal. His friendship, which meant so much to all of us, will be a memory of Dogg that will remain with me forever. It is unbelievable to me that I only knew Dogg for 4 1/2 years because I feel that I have known him for my entire life and God knows we have enough stories to last a lifetime. I always felt that Dogg and I were destined to become friends because I don’t think that there is another
person that I could be more alike or compatible with. I will never have another friend like Dogg but I nevertheless feel truly blessed for my short time with him.

In closing, I want to thank Mr. and Mrs. Dwyer, Nancy, Elly and the extended Dwyer family for always making me feel so much a part of your family over the past 4 and 1/2 years. This affection only heightened the strength of the special friendship that I shared with Andrew. I want the Dwyers and Andrew to know that I intend to maintain this relationship for the rest of my life.

Kate Helfet Friend from Fishers Island

When I think about Andrew, I am not reminded of a specific moment, or a single time, but instead a wonderful series of laughter and joy. Andrew, Jake, Bart and I spent absolutely every day on Isabella beach, in the water, on the sand, climbing the rocks etc. Most importantly though, to know Jake Grand, was to know and love Andrew Dwyer, because one was not whole without the other. My fondest childhood memories on Fishers Island are the lazy days on Isabella with the Grands, Helfets, Dwyers and sometimes the Rand gang.

There were days in which Jake, Andrew, Bart and I spent the whole day in the water, because the waves were humongous and we had to spend all day with our Boogie boards waiting for the “Big Kahuna.” There were also those other days when the waves came in groups; we liked to call them families.

Throughout those days we would catch a wave and then immediately run back to catch its Big Sister, then after that one if we were really lucky the Big Brother came in just a short t ime later. Best of all though in those big families there was always the Big Mama wave on which we would ride, as long as you could imagine and at the end because it was the last, we would laugh in the surf still stretched out on the sand with huge smiles on our faces, hoping we would catch another just the same.

When forced by hunger, parents’ call or even just boredom, we did exit the water, there were always a thousand other activities to do. I remember the golf ball sand castles, with elaborate maze like paths, each bigger and more intricate than the last. We would spend hours with golf and paddle balls, or whatever we could come up with, creating an incredible roller coaster-like course from which we could continue our small adrenaline thrills.

There were times when we all had to be brought back down to Earth; we would forget that four foot sand jump with a golf ball just wasn’t possible and from here we would all rise and begin to destroy, jumping, tackling and wrestling the sand castle to the ground only to race back in the water to rid ourselves of the sand we had accumulated in places God only knows.

Often after these sunny days, we would meet for an excellent game of spoons. Far and away these were the funniest times I ever spent with my dear friend Andrew, no matter what the day, no matter who was in the group, Jake, Andrew and I always had to cheat, and Bart, being the chump that he was had to lose. We could contrive ways in which to win, never fairly and always ruthlessly. I would swear even to this day, that in our four-year period in this routine, Bart didn’t get a spoon once. Something, as a big sister, for which I will always be grateful.

Although our relationship continued and grew, and we developed teenage groups and cliques, Andrew and I were forever suspended in the childish amusement of picking on Bart, from later games of Beirut to never-ending evenings of TV trivia, Andrew and I had a pack… It was this joy and pleasure from childhood amusements and pranks for which I always love Andrew…I will never forget.

Katie Baker Friend from Yale

First Meetings, Last Memories

Early this fall, I went over to a friend’s room for a little college football-watching session. Andrew Dwyer was there of course—would he ever miss an opportunity to hang out and watch football—but something was different about him. Something about his hair—

He had cut his hair into a mullet.

And this wasn’t your everyday, hockey-player, I –missed-a-haircut, accidental mullet. It was a work of art: top hair slicked back, side hair shorn almost to the point of nonexistence. Business in the front, party in the back.

Meanwhile, Andrew had on his classic ensemble—Fisher’s Island golf shirt, shorts, and reefs—hardly congruent with the new ‘do.

“I like the haircut,” I remarked.

Those of you who knew Andrew know what happened next. He shrugged, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, and in a completely serious tone explained,

“I’m just keeping it real.”

I’m going to miss his sense of humor.

It was subtle, hard to explain in writing, but never failed to make me laugh to the point where I felt self-conscious. I can remember exactly how he delivered his trademark lines, and the look on his face when he’d say them. He was always smiling—that’s what I remember most.

From time to time, at like 2 a.m., we’d have long, earnest conversations, sometime outside Toad’s, sometimes on Instant Messenger, in which we’d discuss the important things in life: TV shows and movie quotes, usually.

I consider myself a movie quote connoisseur, but he had me smoked every time. I stumped him once, pulling out the “meow” line from “Super Troopers,” which he immediately contested because “Super Troopers” was not a classic, and he had not seen it.

“’Super Troopers’ is a modern classic,” I said.

He looked at me, shaking his head, clearly displeased. “The only modern classics are ‘Austin Powers,’ early Adam Sandler, and Chris Farley movies,” he said with a seriousness usually reserved by most people for discussing the economy or politics.

I’m going to miss our conversations. They were sometimes serious, sometimes sarcastic, always funny, always refreshing. Andrew kept me on my toes, and if I made a comment, a joke, or a statement that wasn’t up to par, he’d let me know.

Last Wednesday, a week ago from the time I write this, Andrew walked me home from Toad’s. This was nothing new—he’d helped me home from many a toads’ night—but this time I was quite a handful. I’d lost my jacket somewhere inside and was cold and in tears, worried what my mom would do to me when she would found out that I was down a jacket, a cell phone, and wallet.

But like the friend he was, Andrew dealt with me. He gave me his jacket and walked me to my room. On the way, I managed to trip and fall, biting partway through my tongue in the process and sending myself in hysterics.

The next day, he sent me an IM, teasing me for being, in his words, an emotional roller coaster. I told him I’d bring his jacket by his room.

When I got there, he had already left for New York City.

I’m going to miss his friendship.

I still have the cut in my tongue that I sustained that night. I figured he’d be giving me a hard time about it when he saw me next. I never would have thought it would outlast him.

I’ve been completely devastated lately, but then I get some images in my mind—Andrew as a roll of Lifesavers on Halloween, Andrew dancing it up at the DKE formal, Andrew heating up leftover sesame chicken on his George Foreman Grill, Andrew kicking back at his house at Fisher’s, Andrew lighting up when I mentioned his favorite two words: “Joe Millionaire,” Andrew wandering around the DKE backyard, missing a flip-flop but never missing a smile—and somehow, it makes me feel better.

He was always happy, he was always making everyone around him happy, and most importantly, he was always surrounded by people who loved him, right up to the end.

Andrew, I’m going to miss you.

Kristen Thompson Reporter at The Yale Herald

Andrew Dwyer, DC ’05, never tried to be the center of attention but couldn’t help being the life of the party. “He was the guy you wanted to be around, the guy who cheered you up if you needed cheering up at 3 a.m.,” friend Andy Levy, BK ’05, said.

Andrew was never too busy to cheer his friends on during Yale football games. “He was at every one,” his roommate Eric Diamond, DC ’05, said. “He’d show up at the tailgates at 9 a.m. [when] we usually couldn’t get him up before noon.”

Andrew had a passion for sports and his classes were scheduled around Yankees games. He loved the Jets, and when they lost in the first round of the 2003 playoffs, he put his hand on his forehead, shook his head, and told his sister, “Eli, now I have to go home and watch a lot of Joe Millionaire.”

Many afternoons of hanging out turned into wrestling matches whether with Levy, who happened to be on the football team, or Diamond. Andrew told his father that some of his best times at Yale were those afternoons of just messing around with his friends.

Andrew thought about spending a year in Colorado after graduation to ski and have a good time. He’ joked about becoming the youngest owner of the Yankees. He didn’t waste his time worrying, dedicating himself to being the consummate son, always ready to go whitewater rafting with his family, a friend, always up for a sausage, egg and, cheese sandwich at the Yankee Doodle, and a brother called “the Golden Child” by his two older sisters. “He really enjoyed life,” Diamond said. “Everywhere he went, he was happy.”

Andrew’s parents made t-shirts for his DKE brothers and his best friends. On the shirts, “dogg,” his nickname, is written out in black letters under a photo of Andrew smiling. Under this are the words of poet W.B. Yeats: “Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.”

Kyley Lyons Friend from Fishers Island

During one summer in high school, Dwyer, Jake and I were sitting in the Explorer for some odd reason. This was due to the fact that we were still in Jake’s driveway at his house at Fishers…Why we felt the need to sit in the car was unbeknownst to me, seeing as how we were not planning on going anywhere any time soon. All of a sudden, Aerosmith’s song, “Don’t want to miss a Thing” came on the radio.

We turned the radio up really loud and sing as loudly as we could since it was really easy to follow the words. Well, Jake and I pretty much had the song down and you could hear Dwyer in the background making up his own words … Just so he could follow along! The words were totally incorrect and off key, but absolutely hilarious. I can remember almost being in tears laughing so much at Dwyer’s mock song. It ‘s kind of silly but those little moments I remember most about Andrew and what I hold close to my heart.

Lisa Dwyer Fielding Aunt

It is warm in here, so warm that the snow has melted the back yard and the ground has thawed. I had a huge bag of bulbs that I intended to plant last fall, but the snow came, and I was not ready for it. I have always found so much comfort in putting bulbs in the ground. It is an act of faith, really, trusting the cold winter will provide the nurturing the bulbs need to flourish in the spring. The winter seems so long and the spring so very far off.

So while Katie bemoans the lack of snow, I am grateful. Because today I am going out to the garden with my bag full of bulbs and I am planting daffodils and tulips for Andrew. I will not delay. I know this weather will not last.

So let this winter be a time for rest and recovery. May this spring bring warm breezes and gardens bursting with flowers. May the summer bring low handicaps, boat tubing, and beach bar-b-ques. May the fall bring Yale football glory and renewed hope to us all.

And so Andrew Dwyer, may this year be for you.

Nancy Dwyer Eaves Sister

I cannot begin to imagine life without Andrew. He was a gift that entered our lives and changed our family forever. For five and long years, I had awaited my brother’s arrival finally he came, (all 8 lbs. 10 ounces of him), and I was not disappointed! As a matter of fact, I was so immediately taken with my brother that my parents had to sit me down and explain that I was not his mother, and maybe it was not such a good idea to try to take baby Andrew to bed with me. Elly, on the other hand, was not as thrilled. She enjoyed her privileged position as the baby and did not want to see it jeopardized by (QuotelUnquote) “that kid.” Yet Andrew, in his classic fashion, quickly won her over and made his way into her heart. His first word was “Elly”. This was a quality Andrew exhibited all of his life.

In our family we all have a soft spot for Andrew. The “golden child”, as Elly and I affectionately coined him. He was the baby, but had such a wonderful good-natured presence, none could fault him. In 20 and 1/2 years, I don’t remember Andrew being in a fight with any of us. This is not to say that he didn’t like to wrestle, or pick me up and throw me over his shoulder until I begged to be let down, or come into my bedroom at night and give me a good old Steam-Roll. Nor do I remember Andrew uttering a mean word about anyone. He loved his sisters, his parents, his friends and his family unconditionally- and we all just loved and adored him.

As many of you know, Andrew also loved Fishers Island. His “favorite place in the world”, he proudly told us. I had the good fortune to spend a month with him there this summer-and I thank God for it. We spent countless afternoons on the golf course and on the boat. Usually, Andrew was showing off his “never give up” tubing skills. Andrew loved nothing more than hanging out on our back porch-his parents, his sisters, his friends and ours.

Occasionally, a game of beer pong was known to break out in the Dwyer household, and Andrew was always the victor. The few times he lost, he refused to leave the table until he regained “his honor”.

There is one bar on Fishers Island-The Pequot. This was another favorite of Andrew’s-to be there with his sisters, all of his friends and all of ours. He loved pulling Elly and me onto the dance floor and showing off a few of his new moves. Perhaps the bane of his existence was that he was not yet 21, (which meant he could not get in on Saturday nights). One particular Saturday, we convinced him to try again, using a friend of mine’s ID. The bouncer took one look at Andrew and started to laugh-“Good ID, Wrong Person”, he said. There was one problem -the bouncer had played golf with Andrew earlier that day.

Elly and I hated the fact that Andrew wasn’t with us and wondered about his whereabouts all night. When we returned home that evening, there was Andrew in our kitchen. When we asked him what he was doing up, he said, “Well, I was waiting for my sisters.” This was Andrew; he never missed an opportunity to hang out with us.

I can’t imagine the last 20 and 1/2 years without my brother. Andrew, you have been and will continue to be such a special part of our family. You added such flavor to all of our lives. I am sorry that you had to leave us so prematurely. I picture you in your “Dream Room,” happy as can be, relaxing in your Lazy Boy. The big screen TV has perfect definition and Tivo is already set up. I imagine you sitting with Babe Ruth, offering him a cold beer and an Andrew Dwyer Special, hot off the Foreman, chuckling away and whole-heartedly thanking him for “The Curse of the Bambino”. Andrew, I love you more than I can ever begin to articulate. I know you’re watching over us all, and I will miss you, with all of my heart, until we meet again.

Nate Thorne Friend from Hotchkiss and Yale

As I tried to think about what I could say about our friend Andrew, I knew that no words could do Justice to his beautiful life. But if I had to use one word to describe Andrew, it would be LOYAL.

As many of you know, Andrew is known to his friends from Hotchkiss as Dogg, or The Dogg. I never realized how appropriate this name is, seeing as how a dog is man’s best friend. Because that is what Andrew was, the best friend anyone could ever have.

I was fortunate to go to both Hotchkiss and Yale with Dogg. Knowing that I had Dogg with me, we eased into the college life attached at the hip. While I was making new friends on my new team, my attitude towards new people and things was never very positive. And it was my friendship with Dogg that really helped me meet the friends from Yale that are here today with us to celebrate his life.

Dogg was the reason that I joined a fraternity at Yale, and the reason that I chose Delta Kappa Epsilon. From moment one, Dogg embraced the brotherhood almost like a new family, because that was his way. Being one of the only brothers not on the Football or Baseball team, Dogg made his friends his team. Dogg was a varsity friend and certainly a first team All-American pick at that.

I have never met a happier, more cheerful person than Dogg. Dogg enjoyed every aspect of life, especially the simplest of pleasures. The pleasure he took in being with his
friends, talking about his friends, and just being friends with his friends, could make a person feel better about themselves like nothing else. I know, because I cannot tell you how many times I relied on Dogg and he helped me.

In all my years of watching and playing sports, I have never seen such a die-hard fan. Whether it’s his Yankees, his Jets, or his school’s team, he knows all the stats and never misses a game. Again I know this because I have done nothing but stand on the sidelines for the last two years at Yale. Still I have had the loudest and most supportive fan in the entire Bowl, yelling, screaming and smiling, singling himself out of the crowd.

On a more serious note, it was his dedication to me that helped me through the most difficult time of my life, this past year and a half at Yale. I probably spent five or six nights a week in Dogg’s room. I was there so much that his roommates were making plans to give me my own bed in their room. I sought refuge from my troubles and the world in Dogg’s room where I was sure to find him, every time, sitting in the same seat, with his ridiculous Bullwinkle slippers on, and the most inviting grin on his face as I opened the door. Just to see him was enough to make me feel better. But better wasn’t enough for Dogg. He wanted to make me feel great. He would even subject himself to playing James Bond on the PlayStation 11, for this was the only game that I could ever come close to beating Dogg at and he hated it. But he did it for me.

When I was down, he made me feel great. When I was in trouble, he’d do anything in his power to save me. And from this I learned a lesson. My whole life I have tried to live by the motto: “Everything in Moderation.” But Dogg’s way was different. Dogg did nothing in Moderation. His ability to make the best of every situation was unparalleled. His love for meat and cheese, and his hatred for vegetables was unheard of. His ways were unique and sometimes odd, but always Dogg. And most importantly, his generosity, care, and love for his family and friends had no limits.

On Friday, I met Chris at the hospital in Fairfield. We spent that whole day reminiscing about all the amazing times we shared with Dogg, much as we have spent the last few days. But what struck me about this day was that, each time Chris’s phone rang, and as he explained to his friends what had happened, he referred to Dogg, not as his first cousin, but as his best friend.

So as we celebrate Dogg’s life, and search for the good that will come from the tragedy of a few days ago, we can rest assured that Dogg is in good hands because we know that “All Dogs go to Heaven.”

Robert H. Matton Hotchkiss Headmaster

Remarks to the School Sunday Evening
January 19, 2003

Hotchkiss hasn’t been quite the same since Andrew graduated, and it definitely is not the same now since his death. Andrew was a great citizen of the School. He had a big heart, a great sense of humor, and a huge circle of friends. Snapshots of his time at Hotchkiss click easily into focus. Andrew, known to his close associates as “The Dogg” or just “Dogg,” making announcements in Auditoriums. Andrew on stage as a member of the Fin, Fur, and Feather Club. Andrew rooting on the hockey team in Schmidt Rink. Andrew exulting over wins on the lacrosse field. Andrew’s senior picture in the “Names and Faces,” where he appears not once but twice, first as Andrew Dwyer and then as Sean Dwyer. Andrew befriending faculty children. Andrew laughing. And Andrew reveling in the companionship of his friends. To be sure, Headmaster’s photo albums are inevitably incomplete. Much must be left to the imagination—the spring trips to Florida, the pranks in Dana, and the life at Yale.

Fortunately, his friends and family have captured these memories, and they will live on forever.

As wonderful as it was to behold Andrew’s exterior exuberance, his serious side and sensitive side could not be missed. He took things in, he looked after others, he studied, he cared, he had ambitions, and he loved his friends and family.

To have known Andrew was a treat and a privilege, and to have known even a portion of his immediate and extended family has been, and will continue to be, a huge additional privilege. The Dwyer family is as loving and energetic and positive and supportive and strong as any family can be. To be with any one of them means being embraced by the bunch, and what warm feelings those associations convey. The Dwyer’s are also a Hotchkiss family, and with them and with us Andrew’s memory rests secure.

Thank you.

Sam Goodhue Friend from Bedford

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Sam Goodhue and I was fortunate enough to have Andrew as one of my best friends I’ll ever have. I know Andrew would have hated it if I were to ramble on about some sappy speech for five minutes. I think he would have wanted for me to keep it short and sweet. So I’m going to share with you some of the best times I ever had with Andrew.

Going to the club and having some of Angle’s famous brown cows, then going to the pool to harass the life guards and order our lunch, which was burger for me and Andrew would always have pizza or if he was feeling good maybe some nuggets. Whatever he would get, you could bet that he’d be wearing half of it on his brand new golf shirt.

We had a house party over the summer when the Dwyers were away and we had the whole house to ourselves. Stocking the fridge with as much beer possible and playing quarters until Chesley would quit. Then going to our cars, we would open all the doors and blast a song and everyone would sing along as loud as they could, except Andrew, who didn’t really know the words. So he sort of mumbled them and danced around like a complete maniac.

Or that one time in Fishers last summer when Andrew and his dad went tubing in front of their house. For those of you who didn’t know Andrew very well, he had a deep love and respect for the sport and art of tubing, and the biggest rule about tubing for him was, no matter what, you do not let go. And he never did. Shaking Andrew off that tube was a tough thing to do, but it was one of the greatest things to experience. Mr. Dwyer would floor it, at first going relatively straight, and Andrew would be just relaxing, waiting for a challenge.

If anyone knew how to throw Andrew off the tube, it was Mr. Dwyer. He began turning back and forth, doing some donuts, but he couldn’t shake him. Finally Mr. Dwyer took a sharp turn and pushed it to max power and headed straight for his own wake. Andrew made the mistake of leaning out of the wake of the boat so he was almost parallel to the side of the boat. So when Mr. Dwyer went the other way, the line went slack then tight and Andrew was sling-shotted to the other side with incredible force. Then he hit a wave and was simply launched into the air. He probably went fifteen feet high, it was one of the funniest things I had ever seen, but Andrew was very pissed that he fell off.

The last thing I’m going to talk about was when Andrew and I went to the Gold and Silver in New York City. Andrew was way too cool to get a rental tux, or maybe Mrs. Dwyer was so excited that she had an old tux in the attic that they decided not to get a rental. That was a mistake. So Andrew decided to wear this tux that had been in the family for over thirty years. Andrew looked good when he got my house and into the limo, so we all headed out to the city. We got there and everyone was having a great time dancing and talking, but when I looked around for Andrew, I would see him sitting down at the table by himself or with a couple of ladies. I could tell something was the matter. Andrew was the last person just to be sitting around all night. So finally the party was over and we were on our way up to the apartment we were going to sleep at. In the elevator, Andrew said “Yo, you want to see something?” I said, “Sure.” He took his hands out of his pockets and his pants just dropped to the floor, I fell over in hysterics. It turns out when Andrew got out of the limo to go in to the party he had ripped the back of his pants wide open, from his belt to his crotch. So for the entire party he had to tuck his pants into his boxers, and sit down all night. He did such a good job at hiding that huge rip, that no one there knew what had happened. It truly was one of the funniest things that I have ever witnessed.

Well, Andrew I could go on all day but I know you wouldn’t want that, so I’ll see you when I see you.

The Reverend Terence L. Elsberry Rector St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church, Bedford, New York

A homily preached at a service in Andrew’s honor on January 21, 2003.

Last year around Christmas of 2002, I was sitting at my desk at Syracuse counting the days and even minutes until I could go home for winter break. It was a weekend, and in the early hours before bedtime, I was chatting to various people on line telling them about my night. I was surprised when my phone lit up and began to ring, as it was very late and I wasn’t expecting a call. I looked at the caller ID and a huge smile came across my face. It read “Dwyer” and his phone number underneath. I answered, Helloooo?” as I greeted him with an “I know who is kind of hello”. He said, “Jamie, this is Andrew.” That was the standard Dwyer greeting whenever he called. We chatted for a bit and then he revealed that he had a surprise for me.

Before I tell you I have to mention that, the Austin Powers movie Goldmember came out the summer of 2002 about mid July. That summer I can remember the countless nights Andrew, Jake, Kyley and I would recite every and any line we could remember from that movie; and then laugh about it for a good 20 minutes. For example… “Not you Frow, not you Number Two, not you anonymous henchman holding a wrench, not you arbitrarily turning knobs to make it seem like you are doing something …” That was a favorite. There are many others but I will never forget the night that Andrew called me. I must tell you that Goldmember was not out on video or DVD, so we were anxiously awaiting the release of that.

Well, Andrew indeed had downloaded Goldmember onto his computer and called me at my favorite part of the movie. He said, “Get ready, you have to listen closely.” I was confused but at last I heard the quirky voice of Goldmember and Dr. Evil impersonating a truck driver. Goldmember was telling Dr. Evil where he was and what the situation was and Dr. Evil, appropriately wearing a truckers hat, pleasantly replies,” Copy that you big pile of monkey nuts!” It’s just one of those things that gets me every time. And Dwyer remembered, even though we never saw the movie together, and even though we hadn’t talked to each other for awhile, he still remembered my favorite part of the dumbest movie ever made!

It was not a great start to college for me that first semester, so to hear from friends from Fishers always made me the happiest, especially from Dwyer because there wasn’t anything he said that didn’t make me laugh. It’s a silly conversation that we had, but it made me feel so happy and thankful that I have friends like him. Andrew is missed more and more each day and will always be in my heart. I miss you Dwyer… you big pile of monkey nuts!