George "Chris" Dunbar

Chris and I worked together at Chapot Construction during the ’80s and ‘90s. Henry and his son Bill Chapot held their company to high standards of workmanship and quality and Chris’s skill and integrity made him a perfect fit. Chris was not so much a carpenter as he was an artist and craftsman who expressed his talent through the building and construction trade. Chris saw every project as a puzzle to be assembled, every problem as an equation to be solved, every challenge as a journey to be completed. Chris was a genius, but above all else he was a simple, honest and open-minded human being. He brought humility and humor to work with him every day. As a project foreman he was exacting yet personable, he was both boss and friend, he was both teacher and student. One thing though about Chris at work; he loved lunch. Once when Chris was helping me on one of my jobs, he asked, “So where’s lunch today?” When I told him I usually just brown-bagged it, he gave me such a look of disappointment. The next day he knew where every good Mexican restaurant was in the area. I never made that mistake with him again. I learned that If you wanted Chris’s help you needed to have more than a construction plan, you needed to have a lunch plan too. Chris excelled at every project he tackled but two in particular brought to light the depth and brilliance of his talents. One was a study in complexity, the other a challenge of scale. The first was Chris’s role in the 1984 restoration of the 100-year-old Herschell-Spillman Carousel in the Children’s Playground at Golden Gate Park. This old Merry-Go-Round had been disassembled and the animal jumpers taken off site for restoration. In the round building, gears and rods and levers were scattered everywhere. It was a chaotic pool of parts that seemed to have nothing in common. Everyone there was lost as to where to even start. Chris was not. He was running around examining gears and pushing pieces together acting just like a kid in a candy shop. Chris poured his heart and soul into that restoration. When it was completed, Henry & Bill Chapot hosted an unveiling party complete with player piano, catered food and period costumes; invitation only for the design and construction crews and their families. During this amazing night Chris jumped on and off as the Carousel spun, introducing and explaining the magic of this apparition from the past. And he only fell off once. All of Chris’s jobs were completed logically yet with heart. The seismic upgrade to the Candlestick Park stadium though, was a horse of a different color. Detailed and repetitive work had to be performed over vast areas of the arena and at nearly inaccessible heights making this project unimaginably difficult. For Chris, just another puzzle to be solved. Chris designed rigging and staging that had the project engineers going back to their books. His handling of manpower, material and inspection put the project ahead of schedule. His strong but personable management of crew balanced production with safety. When the Loma Prieta earthquake shook the sold-out ballpark on October 17, 1989 just moments before the start of the third game of the World Series, Chris’s crews had most of the seismic bracing in place holding the old stadium together and preventing thousands of injuries and deaths. And he did it all without missing lunch. There’s more to Chris though, than his construction talent. Chris was a loyal friend, a compassionate mentor and a strong role model. When I first met Chris, I had a group of friends that I’d known since grade school. Our friendships were honed in the fires of youth and polished with the shared experiences of young adulthood. I believed then that this depth of friendship could never happen again. I used to feel that as adults we build too many walls and harbor too many prejudices to form such bonds. But from the start with Chris it was different. I think what made Chris special was that he was a good listener. Chris was always absolutely entranced with what you were saying. He was always actively listening. In Chris, with his open and honest nature, I found a deep and lasting friendship separate from our work and our spouses. Chris and MB introduced me to Alicia, MB’s best friend. We fell in love, married and Chris & MB became our children’s Godparents. As with all couples, Alicia and I had our rough times and it was Chris’s gentle advice and calm offerings of comfort that reminded me just how sweet & rare true love is. And that’s really what Chris was all about. He was half Leonardo Di Vinci, half Dalai Lama. And he was always there for his friends and family, calm and sincere. Chris once confided to me that he sometimes had trouble embracing the God concept. The truth is that in his modesty, Chris did not realize what we all knew. In his every moment of life he manifested all the best aspects of philosophy and religion and God. Chris, thank you for sharing your life with me. I love you and I’ll miss you beyond expression. Enjoy your lunch, my friend. It’s well deserved.