Ken was born with a passion for social causes.

As a teenager he attended a liberal youth group who discussed the ill-conceived Vietnam War and many other issues. Despite being under draft age he and the group believed protest actions must be taken. He helped place stickers widely around York that said “Vietnam War” and placed them on traffic stop signs.

This drew the attention wanted as well as the police attention. They were ready to issue a warrant for defacing stop signs, public property. His father was distressed to think his son would be branded a juvenile delinquent.

An arrangement was made that if the kids would remove the stickers no charges would be brought. Ken would have liked to express his protest in some meaningful way such as burning a draft card, but he was born too late. He did not turn eighteen until 1974 and by then the draft and the war were over. He never had the pleasure of publicly expressing his well-developed social conscience in that public manner.

Ralph Dermota

"My doctors tell me that at least my cancer is in my second most important organ,"

Ken quipped the first time we met. "How about for you?"

For someone just diagnosed with breast cancer, Ken's comment sparked a welcome burst

of laughter. It was the first of many laughs, and a few tears, we shared about the disease.

Ken faced brain cancer with determination, bravery and humor, and applied his natural curiosity as a journalist to learn all he could about the disease. In the process, he helped others. Shortly after we met, Ken quietly contact his nutritionist to ask what kind of diet might be best for someone undergoing treatment for early-stage breast cancer. (Suffice to say it didn't involve Ken's prescription of 40 grams of fat a day.) I don't know that I ever thanked him, and for that I am sorry.

I also regret that it was cancer that brought us together. Ken and I had much in common: we were both journalists with a deep belief in justice, equity, and the role of a thriving free press in a strong democracy. We spent too little time talking about that and too much time talking about cancer.

I'm thankful for the short year I knew him, and for getting to know Beatriz Elena and Eddie. One of my greatest hopes is that in Beatriz Elena's lifetime, and certainly in Eddie's lifetime, medical researchers will find a cure for the awful disease that robbed his family and friends of a special man.

Kirsten B. Mitchell

I am Hank Harman, father of Richard, Jane, Pat and Pete Harman and pastor, friend and admirer of Ken since 1959.

Yes, "admirer", even though at times I thought of him as an incorrigible "brat."

Our family moved from North Carolina to York, PA in July 1959 when I became Pastor of Memorial United Church of Christ (UCC) to which the Dermota family belonged. Richard (we then called him "Dick") and Ken became fast friends soon and also became known as the meanest little boys in the Sunday School.

One Sunday, when they were about seven or eight, they sat down in one of the front pews, talking and giggling, thinking that people behind them would not see them. I, of course, could see them from the chancel and considered throwing a hymn book down on them. Ken's mother, Mary, was in the choir and see could see them.

During a prayer Mrs. Harman walked across the back of the church, up a side aisle and plopped down between them. This cracked us all up but it also shut them up.

Ken's father, Ed, had not gone beyond high school, but he was one of the most theologically astute persons I have ever known. He not only knew his Bible but he had also read some of the leading theologians of our time, like Paul Tillich. He was an elder of the church and, when Memorial later merged with Trinity UCC, continued as an elder. He was also act in the affairs of the Penn Central Conference of the UCC.

My ministry at Memorial, 1959-67, included times of racial stress, when I tried to be a leader in the Civil Rights movement and bring Memorial Church along. Ed was also a leader in improving race relations and a great support to me. He was able to touch some people who would not respond to a clergy person.

Ed had the reputation of being one of the best upholsterers in the area. That is where Ken got some of his ability for the Furniture Worker Union.

Ed knew that two of the members of our Consistory (church council) were electricians. In a discussion on the next year's budget, one of them favored a raise in the pastor's salary while the other rather vocally opposed. Ed moved that the Pastor's salary be equal to that of a journeyman electrician with same time of service. The motion was not seconded but I got a raise.

Ken's brother, Ralph, became an ordained minister but then he later took over the upholstery business.

Ken's mother, Mary, also helped in the business. They lived above their shop in West York until Ken was about twelve when they bought a house in the West York area. Mary was a Wilkinson so Ed "married into" the business. His shop was Wilkinson Upholstry.

Henry V. Harman, Richmond, VA