By Scott Reinhart (BA'00)

I wandered the tight spaces of my favourite second-hand shop on a crisp Saturday morning. It was Oct. 23, 2021. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. Honestly, I was trying to decide whether to buy Halloween candy, in case we had trick-or-treaters.

As I browsed dusty boxes and old books, I noticed a Tudor bonnet resting on top of a pile of comic digests. Second-hand shops often buy the entire contents of a home, and while I've seen everything from ancient Roman coins to mildewed newspapers pass through their doors, this was... different. Not "out of place," necessarily. Just... different.

I picked it up and asked the manager how much it was.

"$25. But there's more..."

"More?" I asked.

Ross pointed behind me. Glancing up, I saw a matching scarlet doctoral robe hanging in the vestibule window. It could have been hanging there for weeks, and I wouldn't have noticed. Knowing I wouldn't be able to reach it, Ross kindly offered to bring it down so I could have a closer look.

It didn't ring a bell right away, but I'm always up for a challenge. Knowing I'd need to get it home and store it properly, I asked Ross if I could pick it up at the end of the week. Smiling, he obliged. I went home, wrote a few brief notes on the piece, and sat down later that night to think.

By Friday, nothing was really coming to me. I'd done a few quick searches and had a few theories about who the garments might have belonged to, but nothing concrete. I decided I'd go pick it up the next day. It had nagged at me all week. Part of me liked the mystery. And the only way to be certain was to have it in hand.

As I said, I had a few theories and had done a little research. I toyed with the idea that it might have belonged to Dr. Harald Taukulis, an esteemed professor at UNB Saint John, and a dear friend and mentor during the completion of my degree. But I dared not hope.

I went into the shop, paid for the bundle, and placed it securely in the bag I'd brought. I browsed for another 20 minutes or so, then left—stopping to chat with a friend before heading home.

As we sat and talked, I took a closer look at the bundle: a Tudor bonnet, a doctoral robe and hood, and what appeared to be a master's hood. Taking the bonnet in hand, I examined the label closely, noting the initials "HT" written in blue ink.

They had to have belonged to Harald Taukulis.

Later that night, I continued my research. I found that Harry's doctoral thesis had been completed in 1979 at Memorial University in Newfoundland, where he also earned his MSc. Checking Memorial's regulations on academic dress confirmed the colours of the robe and both hoods.

Harry had worn these very garments to my own graduation. I will never forget the smile that beamed from him as my sister Shelley (BA'84, MBA'88) conferred my bachelor's degree, gently moving the tassel of my mortarboard from right to left.

Harry was a delightful and engaging storyteller—as any of his students can readily attest. I like to believe that if there is an afterlife, he's standing in a packed lecture hall right now, beginning one of those stories with:

"So, one of my old students is walking around this little antique shop..."

(Harald Taukulis passed away in October 2020.)