In Memoriam: John J. Hurt
Photos by Kathy F. Atkinson and Duane Perry February 11, 2022
Campus community remembers professor emeritus, history department chairperson
John J. Hurt, professor emeritus of history and former history department chairperson, died Jan. 15, 2022. He was 83. Dr. Hurt had been in good health until he was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia days before his death.
An authority on European history, with a specialty in 17th and 18th century France, Dr. Hurt joined UD’s Department of History faculty in 1969 and retired in 2015, when he was named professor emeritus. During his 45-plus year tenure at UD, he also held administrative posts, serving as chairperson of the department from 2008-13 and earlier as acting chairperson of both the then-Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures and the Department of History.
Dr. Hurt taught courses on the French Revolution and Napoleon and later in his career focused on military history, including a survey course on that topic and an upper-level course on World War II. He led frequent student tours to Europe with regular visits to Normandy and other World War I and II battlefields.
His book Louis XIV and the Parlements: The Assertion of Royal Authority was the first scholarly study of the political and economic relationship of Louis XIV to French judicial bodies: the parlements of Paris and provincial tribunals. Dr. Hurt conducted research in France over a period of years by locating and analyzing original 17th- and 18th-century texts. His work upended some theories of how King Louis XIV’s actions shaped the history of early France and the monarchies of Europe. The book was hailed as “remarkable” and “a model historical study” that balanced “detailed narrative with a wide-ranging argument.”
In 2014, Dr. Hurt coedited Odyssey of a Bombardier: The POW Log of Richard M. Mason with Steven E. Sidebotham, a fellow UD history professor. Published by the University of Delaware Press, the widely reviewed book recounts Mason’s experiences during World War II and includes drawings of his time as a prisoner of war after his B-17 bomber was shot down over France in 1944. The book, which shows U.S. airmen demonstrating grace and courage under pressure and meeting the challenges that their imprisonment presented, originated when a student in one of Dr. Hurt’s courses brought her grandfather’s POW diary in to show him.
A summa cum laude graduate of Mercer University in Macon, Georgia, Dr. Hurt earned both his master’s and doctoral degrees in history as a Fulbright Scholar at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. In between his master’s and doctoral studies, he served on active duty as a military intelligence officer in the U.S. Army in Washington, D.C., and Europe from 1962-64.
Recalling a colleague
Many of Dr. Hurt’s colleagues shared remembrances about him, noting his scholarship, his humility, his humor and his leadership.
Anne Boylan, professor emerita of history: "I especially valued John's sense of collegiality and his generosity in serving on numerous departmental and college committees. He was a fair-minded and supportive department chair; all who knew him will remember his skill with the wry comment and the well-placed bon mot."
James Brophy, Francis H. Squire Professor of History: "His collegiality was fair-minded, tolerant and encouraging. As chair, he advocated for all. His droll humor hit home with so few words. John played a large role in hiring me and, in his own unobtrusive fashion, was a good mentor. I have much to thank him for. Whenever I mentioned these virtues to him, he characteristically dismissed the praise."
Owen White, professor of history and a fellow historian of France: “He chaired the search committee that led to me being hired in 2000. He always looked out for me, even attending the ceremony when I gained U.S. citizenship in 2010. Typically, he also attended a (virtual) talk I gave in November and wrote me a congratulatory note afterwards. I will miss his kindness and good humor very much.”
White shared the news of Dr. Hurt’s death with the listserv H-France, recounting his achievements and including this tribute: “John was a kind and generous man who would often reduce a room to laughter with his dry wit. He will be sorely missed.” Many colleagues responded to that posting, including Duke University’s Kristen Neuschel, who remembered Dr. Hurt as “unfailingly gracious, humorous and humble” and the University of Maryland’s Donald Sutherland who recalled when they were both in the city of Rennes in Brittany in May 1968, a time of massive student protests there. Sutherland said Dr. Hurt was not mounting the barricades: “Always resourceful, he had a car with a full tank of gas. Ready to make a run for Belgium.”
Lawrence G. Duggan, professor of history: “When I arrived at the University in 1970 as a brand-new assistant professor, John Hurt was one of many faculty who warmly welcomed me to the department, and that set the tone for the next 43 years. We had our differences, of course (he was from the South and a French historian, I from New England and a German historian), but these didn’t get in the way of our building a lovely friendship over the decades. Once in a while there’d be a major disagreement over a faculty appointment. It is a commonplace that disputes in the academic world are sometimes so heated because the stakes are so low, but that’s absolutely wrong (as a friend in the business world once pointed out to me). We professors are just about the only people in the whole work world who get to determine who our fellow workers are and, in addition, whether they get lifetime jobs. Those are very high stakes indeed, and so it’s no wonder that faculty appointments can generate a lot of heat. In the history department, we’ve occasionally had such strong disagreements over the decades, but the worst ones were actually in the 1970s, and John and I were sometimes on opposite sides (and assistant professors at the time as well); but we got over those arguments, and our friendship continued to flower. In fact, I ran against him for the department chairmanship in 2008, and our colleagues wisely elected him (he was far more experienced as an administrator, and in truth I really didn’t want the job). Neither of us took it personally, and our friendship continued to bloom in mutual respect and affection. I have been very blessed to have had so many friends and colleagues like John for nearly my whole working life. His sudden death saddens me greatly.”
Ray Callahan, professor emeritus of history: “I had only been in the history department for a year or so when John arrived. We were therefore colleagues for several decades, and even after I moved on to other things we remained in touch, a connection that extended into our retirement years. I had on my ‘to do’ list setting up one of our periodic luncheons the day I learned of his untimely death. John was a very fine historian of early modern France, winning praise for his work even from French historians who are often suspicious of Anglophone scholarship about France! He was also a balanced and fair minded person bringing calm deliberation to bear even on fraught departmental issues. The chairmanship came to him late --I believe he put off retirement to serve the department. He brought the same qualities of balance and common sense to the job that he had always displayed and that were needed at that moment. Personally he was fun to be with -- his dry humor was always spot on. Our lunch conversations always roamed over many things and at the end I always felt that it was something I wanted to do again. I will miss him.”
Richard Zipser, professor emeritus of German and former chair of the Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures: “John was such a warm and caring person, always cheerful and blessed with a wonderful sense of humor. He was almost always in a good mood, at least when we were together, and his upbeat attitude and winning smile usually lifted the spirits of those who were in his presence. I met him shortly after arriving at UD in 1986, and before long we became friends. John was a good friend, a loyal friend, and I was fortunate to be a recipient of his friendship. The fact that the two of us had similar views in many areas helped us to bond. I and my colleagues in the foreign languages and literatures department were so pleased that John twice agreed to serve as acting chair when I was on sabbatical leave. Everyone said he did a great job, and these two one-year assignments helped prepare him for chairing the history department, something he was eager to do before retiring and did well. My wife, Ulrike, and I admired John, and we both miss him.”
Steven Sidebotham, professor of history: “I arrived at the history department for the fall 1981 semester. My fondest memories of John related to my underwhelming sartorial appearance. John would often joke that he had never seen me wear a tie, but I would remind him that, in fact, he had when I arrived for my job interview in the summer of 1981, one of the few times I recall wearing one. Often in the hallways of Ewing he would ask when I would wear a tie. One day, knowing that he would very likely be in his office and aware of his penchant for asking about my tie, I wore a T-shirt with Arabic written on the front. When he asked, yet again, about my donning a tie, I replied that when he could read what appeared on the T-shirt, I would then, obligingly, wear a tie. I never wore the tie! I know that we both enjoyed that repartee. I have collaborated on many publications over the years in my major discipline of archaeology where collaboration, often with several other co-authors, is the norm. I would say that the book John and I edited about World War II bombardier Richard Mason (published in hard back in 2014 and then in paperback in 2016) was the perfect example of what ideal collaboration can be. After publication of that book, John and I gave joint power point presentations about our research to various audiences and they were, in my biased opinion, seamless. John would ask about my on-going project – which my wife and I initiated in 2004 – of conducting in-person, on-camera interviews of veterans of World War II, many of the recordings of which I use in a seminar he encouraged me to begin teaching about 12 years ago. I am so glad that he started me along that path, a drastically different kind of subject and method of teaching than I was accustomed to doing. When David Allendinger informed me about John’s sudden demise, I was shocked. I shall miss him dearly.”
David Allmendinger, professor emeritus of history: “The suddenness of John’s departure has shocked us. I can report that barely three weeks before he died, he spent a night at our house in North Carolina, looking fit and lively, handsome in his new beard. He insisted, as always, on carrying in the luggage. When we drove to find lunch, he admired our new car and thought he might buy one this spring. Before dinner, he enjoyed his gin martini, which brought back memories of drinks at the Blue and Gold Club and the Crab Trap, where we often prepared for department meeting. He climbed up our stairs to the study (noting the 16 stairs), where we searched on Ancestry.com for a specific Virginia great-grandfather. He spoke of his plan to write a new lecture on the Holocaust. (I remembered him speaking in class, in department meetings, in the Senate.) All was well. He made just one ironic reference this time to my military record, a favorite topic. His own such record had left its mark on him, in his bearing and voice; he never forgot that he had been a soldier. He seems always to have been a good son, and we know that he loved his family dearly because he was an exemplary husband, father and grandfather. In the same way, for the rest of us, he was an exemplary colleague. Sometimes he worked the anchor and sometimes the rudder, holding against some current, steering clear of a shoal. (Here he would scoff.) As a scholar and teacher, he would have no one forget why the world had seen witchcraft, revolution, war and the Holocaust. His classes on these subjects led him in new directions; he also worked the sail. We shall miss his strong, capable hand.”
Arrangements
Dr. Hurt is survived by his wife of 30 years, Joyce Ash Hurt; his daughter, Christiane Hurt and her husband Blake Rahn of Chapel Hill, N.C.; his son, Charles Hurt and his wife Trisha Hurt of Seattle, Wash.; and his brother, Robert H. Hurt and his wife Virginia Armat Hurt of Washington, D.C. Other survivors include his grandchildren, Griffin Rahn, Calder Rahn, Carson Hurt and Annalea Hurt; as well as his sister-in-law, Elaine Robey and her husband John Robey of Virginia Beach, Va.
A memorial service will be planned when it is safe to assemble. Donations in Dr. Hurt’s memory may be made to the University of Pennsylvania Hospice Friends Fund or the Crosslands Residents’ Association, stipulating the “Crosslands Library Fund” at 1660 East Street Rd., Kennett Square, PA 19348, in honor of Dr. Hurt.
To read Dr. Hurt’s obituary visit Grieco Funeral Home and Crematory Inc., where condolences may be left online.
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