My life was enriched by knowing Kim. He was an original ? unabashed in his views, unabashed in his self-confidence, and unwilling to patronize or compromise. "Love me or not, this is who I am" seemed to be Kim?s approach to others. Genuine. I also admire Kim for his dedication to excellence. Pushing himself to do the best or be the best. Mostly I loved Kim because he was such a great fan of his friends. He spoke of them with a respect near reverence. I shall miss him, and I am so grateful to have been his friend.
Kristy Aserlind, a ski instructor at Mt. Hood Meadows Ski Resort ( in Mt. Hood, Oregon ) was a varsity rower on an excellent University of Wisconsin rowing team and has been rowing since college. She belongs to a rowing club that rows on the Willamette River in ( or near ) Seattle. In Kim's memory, she has purchased a 4-person Vespoli for her rowing club and named it "Kim Prince." The shell was christened at 2 pm on Saturday October 20, on Magazine Beach in Cambridge, Massachusetts at the Head of the Charles Race.
Thanks for sending this along. The early soldier pix, I had never seen before. Haunting and heartbreak sad, but I'm glad to have them. Much obliged. Long live the prince boy, as he called himself so aptly and in the end so painfully ...
Though the years are accumulating, I can still vividly remember Kim hanging around greater Dublin and the Lake Club. Though I did not actually witness the event (it was reported to me by our mutual friend Bronson Shonk) I never think of Kim without recalling the time that he apparently set the Southern NH record for a racket toss in a losing effort to Louis Crosier in the club championship--as if he could have beaten Louis under any circumstance.
This weekend I am going to Dublin, New Hampshire where my family has been enjoying summers for 50 years. Many of those summers included Kim Prince.
The last time I saw Kim was two summers ago for some golf and tennis at his beloved Lake Club. Kim's competiveness was never better - but his skills where slightly off. His many back operations had taken their toll. He still beat me in tennis but I took him in golf. He was a big guy and his great big smile was as easy and big as ever. He smiled when he won at tennis like one who reaffirms a life long ability to beat me like a drum. And he smiled when he lost at golf. He was just happy to find someone to share a Dublin Day.
I rarely saw him in the winter so we would catch up on the links or over a lemonade on the Club porch. He always had a great story about Naples or of some dog or horse or pool competition he had covered for ESPN. I countered with an everyday story about my family. But when we talked about me and my family, one really thought he cared. He was good that.
Kim knew everyone in Dublin. In the early years he would stay at his family's house and later was always able to get someone to "put him up" for most of the summer. Who wouldn't want him as house guest - always up - always invited to the party. And when an old friend appeared for their two weeks, he would act as social director. "Tennis tomorrow," would be the call, "or golf." He knew who was up at the time and was eager to get everyone together. Before I'd come up I would always asked my Dad if Kim was in town - I knew the vacation would include good tennis.
Kim took a drink and if the time was right one could get him to talk of an incredible life. TV personality, two time Viet Nam tour vet, Harvard footballer and a jet set life style all made his stories so much better than mine. I'll never forget his talk of Viet Nam. He spoke of the curse of speaking French, his band of brothers and the genuine fear that he would not live out his second tour. It's hard to imagine a man with that voice and wonderful body would fear anything - but he did and wasn't ashamed to admit to sleeping under his bed for the last six months in Viet Nam.
The Dublin Lake Club is very simple place. The club house is understated but a treasure. The Club is all about the people who come there and have kept coming back for over 100 years. Though there is sailing and golf - it's about the tennis on slow red clay and the annual championships. The fields are small. The competition, however, is genuine and to the winner goes the honor of being named on the most elegant silver cup outside of the New York Yacht Club. This summer, like every other summer, I'll take a look at the one trophy with my name. And I'll see Kim's name a champion repeated year after year on almost every cup. I'll show my young boys that their father once won a Dublin tournament. I'll know my moment in the sun was because he asked me to play doubles and on a wonderful Dublin Day.
Kimbo, you left too soon
The last time I saw Kim was at a restaurant in Peterborough NH. There were quite a few people in the dinner party, and I didn't have a chance to talk to him until we were walking to our cars.
Kim, for no reason I can recall, started talking about Vietnam. I remember him turning to me and saying, "Perron (we prep school kids seem to maintain a life-long habit of calling each other by the last name), you know, there were just two rules in Vietnam...... Always try your hardest, and don't lie." "Always try your hardest, and don't lie", he repeated.
Those words have been challenging me ever since.
I always believed that Kim was a gift to this world and blessed all that he came into contact with. He was more spiritual and intuitive than he knew. He blessed my life in such a huge way that I would like to contribute something to the site but not really sure what.
Carolyn Michele Rose
I went up on Google this morning to see if I could track down an old friend of mine, Kim Prince, and found out via your website that he had died in 2003.
Kim and I served together in Vietnam and sporadically kept in touch over the years. In fact, I took one of the pictures you have on the website (the one of him holding the M-16 and looking "salty").
The reasons for me wanting to get a hold of him were two-fold. First, I wanted to see if he was interested in doing a golf infomercial. And second, because I have recently written a novel in which Kim plays a major role in the opening pages.
Thank you very much for doing the website. It is indeed a fitting tribute to a terrific person.
(Call sign "Buddha" in Nam - which is how Kim always referred to me)
Please forgive me for this intrusion and being so late with e-mail.... It is only now that I have heard from a friend about Kim's death. Kim and I met initially while working on the television program, Look. I was one of the producers on the series. They say opposites attract. I think was certainly the case in the friendship that developed between Kim and I. We were litterly on opposite ends of the spectrum in almost every way; I'm African American, he was white, I grew up under privilege, he grew up privileged, He was an officer and a gentleman in Nam, I was a grunt, he was in front of the camera I was in back. But despite our differences we somehow transcended much and became good friends.
When Look ended in 82, we were both faced with the question, "So what do we do now?" and we were both hurting . We spent a lot of time together licking each other wounded egos and thinking about projects we might mount together. Losing the job at that time hit both of us pretty hard but for me in particular. I had just gone through a divorce and had a family to support. When the going got real tough for me, it was Kim who called or stopped by to make sure I was OK.
When Kim first moved to Naples, Florida we did talk fairly regularly, but as time passed we fell out of touch. I believe the move to Florida was in part a bit of an escape for Kim. He talked about wanting to be someplace where he could start over. Someplace where no one knew him or his pain. He talked about that regularly. I know he hated the thought of being dependent on anyone. The last time I spoke with him he said he was in a little less pain and getting back on track Witt work.
I'm not sure of the circumstances of his death, but during our friendship we talked regularly about life and death. During one on Kim's low points, we got to talking about what got us through our Nam experiences. I think that Kim was in a lot of pain and was trying to find a way to get through it. I told him it was my faith in God, that got me through Nam.
I will always remember what he asked me... He asked how could I have faith in God when the world was so full of so much suffering and pain. Where was God in Nam? Where is God through peoples suffering? These are questions that I still think of today. But back then what came to me was God had little to do with Nam or suffering in peoples lives. When countries go to war, its a decision based on personal beliefs, motivations and interests, a decision that is devoid of God. That when people suffer in this life it is not because God wills this on them, but rather that suffering is a part of life and the vehicle we have to help us through is God and faith.
I believe Kim understood that then and hopefully at the end of his life. I have always been touched by our conversation that evening. It remains one of the living examples of how faith works.I apologize if I have perhaps opened old wounds with these recollections. When I got the news I felt the need to reach out to someone who knew my dear friend Kim and share what may be an insignificant moment in his life but very significant in mine. He was and remains my friend and brother.
Thank you so much for the website, although I must say the news of Kim's death came as a jolt to me tonight. My name is Lemie Lentz and I have a lovely story about Kim to share.
Just today (in North Carolina) I met a woman from Naples and asked her if perhaps she knew Kim Prince. She did not, however suggested I look him up in the white pages on-line. Frustrated in those attempts, I Googled his name and thus found the memorial page. As soon as I saw his face, I knew it was my old friend.
It was a fairy-tale meeting on St. John in the Virgin Islands in about 1983 or 84. A teenager with whom I crewed on a charter sailboat invited me to a huge St. Patrick's Day party at his father's house. I can't remember the family's name. The house was palatial, having great Spanish arches from which the glass could be rolled into the walls creating a huge open air ballroom high on the ridgetop. You could see the ocean below on both sides looking towards St. Croix and towards the British Virgins. I met Kim there and we danced together all night. I even remember what I was wearing. And during the night he told me about having had a climbing fall, the injuries, and resulting rehab. and depression. He said he was just getting back into dancing, and asked me if I thought he was doing OK!
Needless to say, I was smitten with Kim. The evening ended with me feeling like a true Cinderella having danced all night with the Prince. After the ball, I feared I'd never see Kim again. But I did.
A week later we were leaving The Vigin Islands to fly back to Miami. The plane had to make a quick stop in St. Croix, and you can guess who got on-- Kim Prince. I couldn't believe it. I left my Norh Carolina friend in our seats and went forward to talk to Kim. He and I spent the entire flight back to Miami standing in the galley talking AND talking. He told me intimate things about his condition, he talked about death and suicide. I felt he was very depressed.
Later he wrote to me and asked me to come visit him in Naples. I never got to go. We talked on the phone several times throughout the following years but eventually we lost track of each other. I had lent him a manuscript about suicide which he never returned. I'm wondering if he took his own life on his birthday.
My short time with Kim left me with story book images and deep-water feelings I never ever forget. He was such a lovely man. Please give my love to his family, even so long after his death, there is one more mourner here.
With shared love for Kim,
One recent evening, oddly, I thought about Kim Prince. I?m unsure why I thought of him, except my parents live in Naples, Florida and I know Kim lived there. His connection to me is very slim, but left a lasting impact. Many years ago I begin working at WGBH-TV in Boston; Kim was part of, or the entire, sports department and I often saw this tall blond man breeze past our office sometimes in a (blue) jogging suit. One spring I was told that he might have free tickets to the Longwood Tennis tournament in Brookline; I wanted to see Jimmy Connors play. So, I went to him and nervously asked for tickets, which he gave to me willingly and with such kindness that I never forgot this brief encounter. I recall when he left the station, he went to work at Look, which I occasionally watched, and then he seemed to disappear. I ended up working at Masterpiece Theatre for many years and the last I heard of him was from a colleague who said he was ill with severe back problems and then, of course, I learned six years ago of his death. As I said, I never really knew him, but so appreciated the tickets he gave me; he seemed so happy someone wanted to go and watch tennis.
Kim and I went to Fay and St.Paul's School. I remember him in 8 th grade playing Baseball, one of us threw a bat at the other. I think it was him.
I mostly remember us being like prisoners at boarding school in New Hampshire. Some one would park his car near the school and we somehow disappeared to his home for the day, and somehow we never got caught.
I remember my first experience at a Chinese Restaurant that his parents took us. Everyone shared their food, it was delicious, and I had no idea what we were eating!
On graduating from high school in 1963, Kim was driving a Chevy convertible at 80-90 miles an hour down the Mass turnpike, " those lazy hazy days of summer," was blearing over the radio.
Years later I was sailing in a dinghy race and out of nowhere there was Kim at our Yacht Club in the Bahamas.
My last memory was visiting Kim, with Jock. We drove Alligator Alley from Fort Lauderdale to Naples. Attended a Christians men's lunch and talked about our lives and struggles of purpose and faith
He was not happy about his medical past and back pain.
My imagination says, and I think we all suffered from the war in Vietnam. I am assuming Kim was in love at Harvard. He was drafted. I gave up my citizenship and turned in my draft card. Kim's sweetheart had an abortion due to his military service, and emotionally they never reconnected. The war and the abortion in my estimation crippled Kim's spirit and faith.
It did nothing in crippling our love for Kim, nor God's love for Kim. It is amazing to me that those who did not live during the Vietnam war, do not see the horror of what Kim and so many experienced;nor the courage and patriotism of those, who spoke out against the war.
Kim, forgive me for my assumptions that may be incorrect and wrong, you were truly an athlete, warrior, lover, who wanted the best for us all. God loves you, and you are in the best position to help us in our struggles.
I happened to be in Naples this past weekend and Kim's name came up among some new friends of mine . To night here in Perdido Key same thing happened so I went to Mr Google and found your website in memory of Kim . Very impressive . I had some great times with Kim & co. at TCC / Myopia back in the 70 's & 80's He was always great company when I knew him though he did struggle with his back . We had some fun golf games -- his tennis outclassed mine . Just felt I had to reach out to you and say thanks for those memories of Kim -- revived by your website .
Best Wishes , Eric C.O'Brien
I remember Kim from St. Paul's and a bit from Harvard days and 12/26/03 he was remembered on a local program, GREATER BOSTON. Greater Boston is a weekly program on PBS. A rotating group of journalists led by Emily Rooney (daughter of Andy Rooney), talk about noteworthy local and national news. In their year end wrap-up they dedicated a few moments to people in their profession who had died during the year.
Kim was an extremely kind, friendly, and amazingly open person. I find those qualities not only admirable and remarkable but enviable. Wish I had known him better. Thank you for bringing back nice memories of him with this very warm site you have created/assembled in his memory.
John Kuhn (sps '60, hvd '65)