David Barnes Boffey, of White River Junction, Vermont, passed away peacefully on August 19, 2024, concluding his 79-year journey back into the light. He was a courageous, helpful and loving person.
Barnes was born on July 16, 1945, to David and Nancy Boffey. He grew up in Pleasantville, New York, before moving with his family to Belvedere, California, at age 11. Camp Lanakila in Fairlee, Vermont, became his beloved home away from home beginning in 1953.
At Middlebury College, he majored in drama and played on the football team. The 6-foot-8 defensive lineman tried out for the Pittsburgh Steelers following his 1967 graduation knowing it was a long shot. Denied a roster spot, Barnes hung up his cleats and taught elementary school for two years. Then came graduate school at the University of Massachusetts where he earned both a Masters and Doctoral degree in education. He taught at the University of Cincinnati before returning to Vermont and leading the Upper Valley Teacher Training Program (now UVEI). He became an adjunct professor at Dartmouth College, practiced counseling, and worked at Lanakila for many years including 24 years as director.
Barnes’ counseling philosophy focused on internal control theory. He asked those he was counseling both about what they wanted and what kind of person they wanted to be. The premise was that people can affect their feelings and physiology with the actions and thoughts they employ. The external world provides constant information and individuals get to decide how to interpret it. Imparting these concepts was central to Barnes’ life’s work, which helped many clients, friends and camp staffers.
He also worked as a consultant, primarily around the topic of non-coercive discipline in schools. As an author, he penned three books (Reinventing Yourself, My Gift in Return and Climb on Simon), and collaborated on adapting the Velveteen Rabbit into a musical. He also volunteered as a Cub Scouts leader, taught classes for parents of adults and was an active member of the local recovery community. He had a passion for ebiking, which he enjoyed throughout his final days.
Barnes will be missed tremendously by his two sons, David and Adam, his former wife, Sharon, and grandson, Jackson. He is also survived by his brother, Peter, sisters-in-law, Ophira and Michelle and nephews, Mercer and David. Barnes was predeceased by his brother, Daniel.
A memorial service will be held at the Church of Christ at Dartmouth, 40 College Street, Hanover, NH, on Saturday, September 7 at 3 pm. Please note there will also be a Celebration of Life at the Hulbert Outdoor Center in Fairlee, Vt. over Memorial Day Weekend, 2025.
I have many fond memories of “Barnes” but can’t remember ever asking him….”What’s wrong with Dave!” Sorry to hear of his passing.
This is an accurate account of the main points in the arch of my brother’s observable life, and I commend whoever distilled the information to compose such a well-written tribute. In the interest of the sheer curiosity of his entire episode with the Pittsburgh Steelers, I would like to slightly amend the record: rather than being denied a spot on the roster, Barnes decided after only three days in the Steelers’ rookie summer training camp that proball was not for him: he shared his decision with the appropriate personnel and honorably discharged himself, hieing back to Camp Lanakila just as fast as he could. His 3X5-inch pocket notebook diary of his experience exists in a scrapbook dedicated to his college career in football and his encounters with the procedures of recruitment of that era (mid-60s). After his decease, I became aware of the album and read that young man’s heartfelt and often humorous observations on the whole situation—and his realization of the alienation he experienced when exposed to pro football’s serious warfare. I respectfully submit this comment because the distinction between being let go and letting himself go seem to indicate early signs of the self-directed person he would mature into and strive to become: master of taking control of his life, always his own man.