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| Congregation B'nai Israel Sunday, Sept. 15, 2024, RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 |
A native of Blytheville, Arkansas, Frances was a faculty member at the law school at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock, and also an alumna of the school, '82. Always an intellectual, she wrote the top paper on the July 1982 Arkansas bar exam. She clerked for the late Eighth Circuit Judge Richard Arnold and then litigated for (now) WilmerHale in Washington, D.C.
In 1986, Frances joined the faculty at Little Rock, where she taught courses such as business organizations, sales, and contract drafting for more than 30 years. She authored or co-authored articles and books, including a business organizations casebook and the Arkansas practice manual, Private Placements and Limited Offerings of Securities (2010). She served as a member of the bar, twice chairing the state association section on securities law, and she occasionally served as an arbitrator for the Financial Industry Regulatory Authority.
Most importantly, of course, Frances was a dear friend. When I struggled with the academic politics at Little Rock, she was steadfastly personally supportive, even if she did not have the bureaucratic sway to redress the situation. I did my best to be supportive, in turn, of Frances, when she battled breast
cancer in the 20-aughts. I say this more because she often thanked me
for it than because I deserve any credit; my recollection is rather frustration at my
helplessness to do anything for her at that time. Upon her own remarkable strength, she prevailed in that first fight with cancer.
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| China Doll Photo © RJ Peltz-Steele |
When we were together in 2023, we talked of all things big and small while organizing the papers of her father, the renowned Arkansas attorney Oscar Fendler. Most of Oscar's papers already resided at the archives of the library at the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville (UAF). But Frances had held back some of the more personal items, such as photographs and handwritten notes. She entrusted me with one treasure in particular: Oscar's unpublished memoir. With the help of research assistants, I am in the process of editing the book for publication, in accordance with Frances's wishes.
Many people helped to organize Frances's affairs in the last weeks. I express my especial gratitude to Linda, who took in Honey Bear; to Susan, who, with help from Melissa and Jessie, saw to the final dispatches to UAF; and to Tom and Suzy, who visited Frances often.
When Frances was young, from ages 19 to 21, she lived and was treated for depression at the Austin Riggs Center, a residential facility in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. She long kept that part of her life a secret, she explained to me in 2023, because of the stigma attached to mental illness. But in recent years, and especially contemplating her own end of life, she recognized that there need be no stigma. She had no shame in it, she told me; in fact, she said, those years, when at last she learned how to manage the darkness that had dogged her, and she made friends who understood, were the best two years of her life. She wanted people to know about her experience in the hope of inspiring others who struggle with depression to seek treatment.
Soon after her retirement from teaching, Frances was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Having gone ten rounds with cancer before, and not having been given a hopeful prognosis, she chose to eschew treatment in favor of home hospice. Some weeks ago, the pain management in Arkansas became ineffective, and Frances relocated to Celia's House Hospice in Medford, Oregon. She was blissfully happy at the beautiful property when I spoke with her by telephone the week before she died. When the cancer reasserted itself, she declared, "Give me the pills," as she told me she would. At age 70, she availed of medical aid in dying (MAID) under Oregon's Death With Dignity Act. As her eulogizer put it Sunday, Frances lived and died on her own terms.
My life is richer for Frances Fendler having been in it.
