RE Log Fall 2019

she said. “They’re all such talented, interesting, bright women with many levels of expertise in all aspects of life.” But the school has also kept drawing her in because it’s a place – like her home and family – that has a long history of curious, eclectic spirits. And she’s an explorer in her own right. Legend of the Hidden Temple One of the first things you’ll see in the Neales’ home is a long, thin print of a Mayan mural, faded with age, on a wall near the entry. It’s a piece that connects to a family history that has inspired Lili Neale throughout her life: the strange and amazing story of her grandfather, Giles G. Healey. Born in New York City in 1901, Healey was educated as a chemist at Yale, but he developed an expertise in celestial navigation that made him uniquely suited to a somewhat different kind of work. In 1928, Wyeth Laboratories sent him on an expedition to the Orinoco river valley in Venezuela to collect curare , a paralyzing neurotoxin, which the indigenous people used in blow darts. The company’s goal was to use it to make tubocurarine, a powerful muscle relaxant used in anesthesia. He returned to New York, emaciated after subsisting on snakes, termites and ants. On another expedition in 1946 in Chiapas, Mexico, the Lacandon Maya led Giles to Bonampak, which refers to the painted walls, a three-room temple depicting Mayan life from 1,200 years ago. No Western explorer had ever set foot there, but the Lacandon took it as a sign of his worthiness when a black jaguar entered the room and deigned not to attack. His findings changed the course of Mayan studies. Up to that point, Mayanists had largely assumed that the Mayans were a pacifistic civilization. The murals at Bonampak told a different story. Sacrifice. War. Bloodletting. His granddaughter found the stories he told intoxicating. Healey was “like an Indiana Jones in my life,” Lili said – a towering figure in their family. They had a close relationship, and she remembers him with fondness and warmth. Later he would become the namesake of the Neales’ only son, Giles. And he met his match in Sheila Healey, his third wife, a British artist whose vivid portraits hang all over the Neale household. There’s one of her mother, in angular black, white and orange. Not far from it hangs one of Lili herself, surrounded by a lion’s mane of brown hair that seems to curl around her into infinity. There’s a similar energy in the eyes. Nursing Without Borders One of Lili’s earliest and most indelible memories involved her other grandmother, Mary Stephens Krech. As a young woman, Stephens Krech had gotten into a car accident in France that left her without part of her leg. She wore a cumbersome wooden prosthesis. Lili visited her frequently as a child and helped her with getting dressed, getting around. Stephens Krech was strong. “She didn’t make a big deal out of it,” Lili said. Still, assisting her made a huge impression on Lili, sparking a desire to help others that has propelled her throughout her life. Lili Krech Neale ’69, Cherry Krech Fulcher ’76 and Carol Krech ’74 Giles G. Healy M. Chapin Krech FALL 2019 Ransom Everglades LOG 17