R. Searle McGrath

https://paw.princeton.edu/memorial/r-searle-mcgrath-%E2%80%9946

Searle died of heart failure Feb. 27, 2007, in Midland, Texas, where he had lived many years.

He lost his left eye in a childhood accident, but in spite of that, became an officer in the Army. After graduation from Princeton in 1948, he began his long, varied, and successful career in the oil business. This included a long-term business partnership with Pom Smith ’46.

Searle was born in Connecticut, prepared at Choate, was in Cottage Club, graduated second in his class in Spanish, and was a lifelong supporter of all things Tiger. One of his favorite eyepatches — black with an orange stripe — was interred with his ashes. He was much revered by friends and relatives alike and was a true gentleman.

Searle had many family connections with Princeton. His father and father-in-law were both ’17. Arthur Sullivan ’13 was an uncle, Art Sullivan ’46 is a cousin, John Burchenal ’45 is a brother-in-law, Peggy Burchenal ’74 is a niece, and Henry Martin ’48 is an in-law.

Searle’s wife of 42 years, the former Beatrice Howard Burchenal, predeceased him. He is survived by his sons, Douglas ’80 and Alexander ’84; a daughter, Mary Abrams; and three grandchildren. To them all, the class extends sincere sympathy.

---------------------------

https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/mrt/obituary.aspx?n=r-searle-mcgr...

R. Searle McGrath, a Connecticut Yankee who came to Midland in the 1950's to hunt for oil and stayed for more than fifty years, died at 4:50 Tuesday morning at Midland Memorial Hospital.

The first child of Douglas and Margaret McGrath, his early life was spent in Connecticut: Manchester, Hartford, and then, for the longest time, New London. He loved the cold winters and the brightly roaring fires that came with them. (This love of fires would stay with him. His houses in Midland always had fireplaces and he lit them as late into the spring and as early into the fall as he could.)

An early childhood accident at a summer camp lost him his left eye. He spent a year in a darkened room at home where the doctors hoped, in vain as it turned out, that he might recover the sight in that eye. During that time, he passed his hours listening to the radio. This instilled in him a love for the popular American music of that period that never left him, and for the medium itself. (He dreamed of being a DJ and did a little time in that capacity on his college station.) His mother also helped beguile away the time of his convalescence by reading books to him, mostly books about the sea, the titles of which he remembered years later with the greatest affection: "Mutiny on the Bounty, "Two Year's Before the Mast," "Captain Horatio Hornblower."

When it was determined that the sight in his eye could not be restored, he was given a glass eye. (When he was a much older man, he took to wearing an eye patch. Handsome already, the patch gave him an even more dashing appearance. He had patches made to match his suits, and some for more specific purposes that the patches illustrated: his Christmas patch had a green tree in the center against a vivid red background.)

He was educated at the Choate School in Wallingford, Connecticut and at Princeton University. He cherished his times at these schools, and for the rest of his life gave generously to them in all ways, not only financially but even more in the role of an informal recruiter and booster.

When World War II broke out, he tried to enlist in any branch of the military that would have him. Because of his eye, none would, but he persisted and he and the Army came to terms with each other. He became an officer and was stationed in New Orleans, the defense of which he later pronounced as "successful."

After his graduation from Princeton, he went to work in Venezuela for the Gulf Oil Company. He loved his time there--the people, the language and the culture. He then enjoyed a stint in the less exotic town of Tulsa, Oklahoma. From there he made his way to Midland where he and an old roommate of his from Princeton, Pomeroy Smith, went into business together.

He met his fiancée, Beatrice Burchenal, a magazine editor from New York, when she came to Midland to visit her friend, Mrs. Ferris Hamilton. After two days, a dinner at Burger Train and four quarters of the high school football game, he proposed. She stalled but succumbed. They were married for 42 years until her death. They have three children who survive them: Douglas McGrath of New York City; Mary Abrams of Dallas,; and Sandy McGrath of Hamilton, Massachusetts. He is also survived by three grandchildren: Henry Raynsford McGrath, who was born on his grandfather's 75th birthday, Sarah Bliss McGrath and Cooper Penniman McGrath.

He was a person of great warmth and drollery; a charming man who bore the indignities of his recent poor health with unflagging good cheer. He was not a complainer, but he was hardly a saint--he was much too fun for that. But he was that thing which seems to be fast-fading in our world, even as it is so sorely needed: a gentleman.

In the box of his ashes will be his favorite eye-patch, the black one with the orange stripe. For those people outside the cult who do not understand the significance of this choice, those are the colors of Princeton.

Memorial services have been scheduled for 11:00 A.M. Friday, March 2, 2007 at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Trinity. Arrangements are under the direction of Ellis Funeral Home. To place on-line condolences visit www.mem.com.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent in his honor to Princeton University, Class of '46, Princeton, New Jersey, 08540, or to Hospice of Midland, c/o Midland Memorial Hospital, 3rd floor, 2200 W. Illinois, Midland, Tx., 79701.

To Plant Memorial Trees in memory, please visit our Sympathy Store. Published in Midland Reporter-Telegram from Feb. 28 to Mar. 1, 2007.