One of the “Bangor boys,” attorney John Woodcock, recalled that the boys used to call Don Snyder the “graceful gazelle.”

“He was a wonderful person to watch and play with, a good, natural athlete, good at everything he did athletically,” Woodcock said.

“We saw Don as going into the business world and making a bundle of money,” he said. “Don is a man of great talent and idealism. He has the capacity for great friendship; he’s a wonderful husband and father, but part of what makes him so interesting is his uncompromising idealism. Don is also one of those teachers his students turn to even after they’ve graduated.”

Thom Ingraham of Orono, who was in a class at Bangor High with Snyder, remembers both Don and his twin brother, David. “Don was more outgoing than his brother, more hooked up to things,” Ingraham said. “Don was very aware of what was going on. He was gregarious, fairly active and a solid student. Dave, on the other hand, was quieter, wore glasses, and was less concerned with `making the scene’ and `playing the role’ than Don was.”

One haunting fact that several people mentioned about Don Snyder’s early life was that his mother died 10 days after giving birth to the twin boys.

Snyder wasn’t born in Bangor. He was born in Philadelphia, where both his grandfather and father were in the printing trade. The move to Bangor came later.

Edgar Allen Beem of Yarmouth, who once roomed with Snyder and has remained friends with him, characterized him as an “American dreamer, attracted to and repelled by what constitutes American success.”

About “The Cliff Wall,” Beem says, “That’s not a flattering portrait of himself, but I think it’s heroic.” Beem says that Snyder is a “very difficult person with great personal integrity and one of the last of the idealists. As a writer, he extracts the last ounce of meaning out of every situation.”

Beem admits that Snyder is perhaps “too serious. He’s a great one for trying to make everything meaningful.”

In contrast to Snyder’s Maine friends, two Colgate University employees preferred to remain anonymous. One said, “Don Snyder wants to be a character in his own novel. He puts himself in certain situations on purpose. Even though Don had many students who went to bat for him at Colgate after he was fired, there was also a segment of students who found him horribly depressing.”

Another Colgate professor says when he first met Don, he saw him as “a missionary character out of a Peter Matthiessen novel.” In contrast to Snyder’s version of things, he said, “There was no fight over his being let go at Colgate. The tenure committee was in complete agreement.”

I first met Don Snyder in 1982 when he first summered on Hancock Point. As librarian for the summer library, I tried to get him to do a benefit reading one time. He wrote me, “… I am still opposed — as I’ve always been — to writers reading … but thank you for asking. Out in Iowa City I was the only person in the workshop never to read; but I think I’ll stick to my guns about not contributing to anything which encourages the random forces that make some writers into celebrities.”