Farewell to a Talented, Joyful, and Beloved Colleague
The Naval Institute has lost an original. LeAnn Bauer, who served the members for 35 years, died on 14 May. She was the art director for Proceedings and Naval History, the first woman to hold the job.
"She had tremendous ability and was a very joyful person despite her physical condition." said Del Kiser, the former art director who recommended her for the top job. LeAnn got a bad break early in life when she was diagnosed, at age 10, with scleroderma. Nevertheless, she graduated from Ramapo Regional High School in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey, and went on to study at the Ridgewood School of Art.
"I remember the day she was hired in 1968," said Patty Maddocks, a former colleague. "She couldn't work the Photostat machine controls with her hands, so David Scott, the art director at the time, went down to Sadler's Hardware here in Annapolis, bought some pads, and jury-rigged the machine so that she could activate it with her feet."
"The Institute team rallied around her and it helped make us a team," said Fred Rainbow, formerly
Proceedings editor-in-chief.Paul Stillwell, who started Naval History, worked with LeAnn to put together hundreds of pages of layouts for
Proceedings and Naval History. "She had lots of creativity and a great eye for design," Mr. Stillwell said.LeAnn usually began the day with office manager George Belt, her best friend at the Institute, catching up on what was happening around town. They met while he was with the Naval Academy Athletic Association in the days when the Institute and the Association shared space in Preble Hall, the Naval Academy Museum building. "It was hard for her to get in and out during fire drills so I began staying behind with her just in case it turned out to be the real thing," he said.
LeAnn took special pride in her brother, Garrick, a naval aviator. She retired in 2003 as she had increasing difficulty getting around, but she never missed the Institute's annual meeting. Her unerring eye for style made her a fashion plate to the end; the local Nordstrom's sent flowers to her funeral.
She was one of a kind—and she was ours.