Death
Sherman Fairchild died on March 28, 1971 at the Roosevelt Hospital in New York after a long illness. Fairchild was buried in Greenwood Cemetery in Oneonta, Otsego County, New York. He is buried within walking distance of the home he grew up in, now the Oneonta Masonic Lodge.
He left bequests to more than 50 relatives, friends and former employees. Most of the $200+ million estate went to two charitable foundations he formed during his lifetime, the Fairchild Foundation and the Sherman Fairchild Foundation. Bequestees included Walter Burke of Winding Lane, Greenwich, Conn. Mr. Burke, the executor, was a longtime friend and business advisor. Other bequests included were to Ann Diahn Williams of Beverley Hills, California, $2 million, or 1% of the net estate, whichever is greater; Cornelia Lynn Sharpe of 111 East 75th Street, $200,000, and Roswell Gilpatric of 79 East 79th Street, $100,000. Specific bequests to organizations were Roosevelt Hospital, $300,000; the Salvation Army, $200,000 and the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, in memory of his late aunt, May Fairchild; $100,000. His will was offered for probate in Manhattan Surrogate's Court by the law firm of Cleary, Gottlieb, Steen & Hamiltion of New York. The assets of the Sherman Fairchild Foundation, headquartered in Chevy Chase, Maryland, have grown to over $500 million in recent years. The Walter Burke family continue to run the Sherman Fairchild Foundation. Bonnie Burke Himmelman is the current president.
As a result of his lifetime achievements, he was awarded fellowships in the Institute of Aeronautical Sciences and in the Royal Aeronautical Society, as well as accolades by the Smithsonian Institution. In 1979, Fairchild was inducted into the National Aviation Hall of Fame.
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Famous quotes containing the word death:
“Time turns the old days to derision,
Our loves into corpses or wives;
And marriage and death and division
Make barren our lives.”
—A.C. (Algernon Charles)
“The grief of the keen is no personal complaint for the death of one woman over eighty years, but seems to contain the whole passionate rage that lurks somewhere in every native of the island. In this cry of pain the inner consciousness of the people seems to lay itself bare for an instant, and to reveal the mood of beings who feel their isolation in the face of a universe that wars on them with winds and seas.”
—J.M. (John Millington)