Biff Mullins

1967

Karen (Buckley) reached out and asked me to write something about Biff, who I find myself thinking about at least yearly. Biff and I met when we were going to Short Hills Country Day School over by Christ Church at the bottom of the hill of Highland Avenue. I guess the first attraction was that we saw huge potential in each other as hackers, which turned out to be accurate. I used to ride my bike over to the Mullins’ beautiful stone house on the corner of Taylor Road, where we could mess around – but maybe what made the trip worthwhile was being able to gawk at his nice-looking older sister, Patty.

Biff had boxing gloves in the basement. One day after beating on each other and his younger brother, Dennis, we took a break and wound up sitting at their grand piano in the living room. There was a wedding picture of his mother (Dutch) about which I said, “Your Mom is so beautiful.” This was one of my earliest embarrassing moments because she was standing right behind me.

Biff went off to private school in Connecticut, returning to finish his senior year at MHS. The girls were happy to see his good looks and the guys looked forward to his athletic capabilities as well as his well-developed cunning and mischievous ways. Hats off to Stoddart who put on her best moves, eventually ending up as Mr. and Mrs.

One night, after a sweltering summer night of football training at the MHS field, about 20 of us jumped into Biff’s family station wagon and mine. We jumped the fence at old man Lanston’s house and dove into his pool to cool off. Mr Lanston came to his window and fired a gun (blank, we hoped!), yelling, “Who’s out there??” I replied, “Bob Lester’s son, Peter.” explaining we came over because of the intense heat from practice. When we all scrambled back to the cars, we made a deal that each of us would deny that we had been there. Just after I got home, the phone rang and it was Mr. Lanston asking my Dad about our invasion of his property. I replied, “No way, Dad – it wasn’t us.” He repeated that and the matter seemed over – phewwww! About an hour later, the front door bell rang and it was Biff with two Millburn policemen. My Dad always liked Biff and asked him if we had raided Lanston’s pool. Biff looked at me, my eyes burning with, “Remember the oath!!!” I said to Biff, “Go ahead and tell him.” So Biff said, “Yes, Mr. Lester – we were all there.” OMG !! “Holy (bleep),” I thought, “am I in trouble now!” Had to go to my room after dinner for what seemed like years; no TV…I’m surprised he let me eat. Maybe that’s what led to my running away with Zane when we were sophomores – got all the way to Tennessee!! But that’s another story . . .

Back to Biff: He would have been a terrific addition to our football team as a running back and defensive corner back. But as it happened, he sustained a neck injury and would miss the entire season. I remember the picture in the yearbook with Biff and I on the sidelines – him wearing the neck brace with me on crutches (sprained ankle). A few years later the Vietnam War broke out and Biff went off to serve his country as an officer, as did Jack Boye. Months went by where finally Biff was up for a leave and met Susan in Hawaii. He returned to Vietnam to give it his all and as we all know, he did. I’ll always remember the day the news of his death spread throughout the community. It’s been many years now, but I think I’m correct in recalling the day a serviceman brought the triangulated folded American flag to the Stoddart’s house.

Biff was a man’s man and a woman’s joy. He had a wonderful family – in fact, years later I used to catch a ride with Biff’s Dad from NYC back out to Short Hills. Those rides gave me insight as to where Biff got his special mannerisms – his Dad was a kind, thoughtful guy with a great laugh and sense of humor.

The good news is that those of us who knew Biff well have a sound appreciation of his “spirit.” It is that distinctive spirit we remember well. For me, I look forward to seeing him again because we’ve got more hacking around to do?

~ Peter Lester (Pete)