PARIS (AP) — Brigitte Bardot, the French 1960s sex symbol who became one of the greatest screen sirens of the 20th century and later a militant animal rights activist and far-right supporter, has died. She was 91.

Bardot died Sunday at her home in southern France, according to Bruno Jacquelin, of the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the protection of animals. Speaking to The Associated Press, he gave no cause of death, and said that no arrangements had been made for funeral or memorial services. She had been hospitalized last month.

Bardot became an international celebrity as a sexualized teen bride in the 1956 movie “And God Created Woman.” Directed by then husband Roger Vadim, it triggered a scandal with scenes of the long-legged beauty dancing on tables naked.

At the height of a cinema career that spanned more than two dozen films and three marriages, Bardot came to symbolize a nation bursting out of bourgeois respectability. Her tousled, blond hair, voluptuous figure and pouty irreverence made her one of France’s best-known stars, even as she struggled with depression.

Such was her widespread appeal that in 1969 her features were chosen to be the model for “Marianne,” the national emblem of France and the official Gallic seal. Bardot’s face appeared on statues, postage stamps and coins.

‘’We are mourning a legend,” French President Emmanuel Macron said in an X post.

Bardot’s second career as an animal rights activist was equally sensational. She traveled to the Arctic to blow the whistle on the slaughter of baby seals. She also condemned the use of animals in laboratory experiments, and she opposed Muslim slaughter rituals.

“Man is an insatiable predator,” Bardot told The Associated Press on her 73rd birthday, in 2007. “I don’t care about my past glory. That means nothing in the face of an animal that suffers, since it has no power, no words to defend itself.”

Her activism earned her compatriots’ respect and, in 1985, she was awarded the Legion of Honor, the nation’s highest recognition.

Turn to the far right

Later, however, she fell from public grace as her animal protection diatribes took on a decidedly extremist tone. She frequently decried the influx of immigrants into France, especially Muslims.

She was convicted and fined five times in French courts of inciting racial hatred, in incidents inspired by her opposition to the Muslim practice of slaughtering sheep during annual religious holidays.

Bardot’s 1992 marriage to fourth husband Bernard d’Ormale, a onetime adviser to far-right National Front leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, contributed to her political shift. She described Le Pen, an outspoken nationalist with multiple racism convictions of his own, as a “lovely, intelligent man.”

In 2012, she supported the presidential bid of Marine Le Pen, who now leads her father’s renamed National Rally party. Le Pen paid homage Sunday to an “exceptional woman” who was “incredibly French.”

In 2018, at the height of the #MeToo movement, Bardot said in an interview that most actors protesting sexual harassment in the film industry were “hypocritical,” because many played “the teases” with producers to land parts.

She said she had never had been a victim of sexual harassment and found it “charming to be told that I was beautiful or that I had a nice little ass.”

Privileged but ‘difficult’ upbringing

Brigitte Anne-Marie Bardot was born Sept. 28, 1934, to a wealthy industrialist. A shy child, she studied classical ballet and was discovered by a family friend who put her on the cover of Elle magazine at age 14.

Bardot once described her childhood as “difficult” and said that her father was a strict disciplinarian who would sometimes punish her with a horse whip.

Vadim, a French movie produce who she married in 1952, saw her potential and wrote “And God Created Woman” to showcase her provocative sensuality, an explosive cocktail of childlike innocence and raw sexuality.

The film, which portrayed Bardot as a teen who marries to escape an orphanage and then beds her brother-in-law, had a decisive influence on New Wave directors Jean-Luc Godard and François Truffaut, and came to embody the hedonism and sexual freedom of the 1960s.

The film was a box-office hit, and it made Bardot a superstar. Her girlish pout, tiny waist and generous bust were often more appreciated than her talent.

“It’s an embarrassment to have acted so badly,” Bardot said of her early films. “I suffered a lot in the beginning. I was really treated like someone less than nothing.”

Bardot’s unabashed, off-screen love affair with co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant eradicated the boundaries between her public and private life and turned her into a hot prize for paparazzi.

Bardot never adjusted to the limelight. She blamed the constant media attention for the suicide attempt that followed 10 months after the birth of her only child, Nicolas. Photographers had broken into her house two weeks before she gave birth to snap a picture of her pregnant.

Nicolas’ father was Jacques Charrier, a French actor who she married in 1959 but who never felt comfortable in his role as Monsieur Bardot. Bardot soon gave up her son to his father, and later said she had been chronically depressed and unready for the duties of being a mother.

“I was looking for roots then,” she said in an interview. “I had none to offer.”

In her 1996 autobiography “Initiales B.B.,” she likened her pregnancy to “a tumor growing inside me,” and described Charrier as “temperamental and abusive.”

Bardot married her third husband, West German millionaire playboy Gunther Sachs, in 1966, and they divorced three years later.

Among her films were “A Parisian” (1957); “In Case of Misfortune,” in which she starred in 1958 with screen legend Jean Gabin; “The Truth” (1960); “Private Life” (1962); “A Ravishing Idiot” (1964); “Shalako” (1968); “Women” (1969); “The Bear And The Doll” (1970); “Rum Boulevard” (1971); and “Don Juan” (1973).

With the exception of 1963’s critically acclaimed “Contempt,” directed by Godard, Bardot’s films were rarely complicated by plots. Often they were vehicles to display Bardot in scanty dresses or frolicking nude in the sun.

“It was never a great passion of mine,” she said of filmmaking. “And it can be deadly sometimes. Marilyn (Monroe) perished because of it.”

Bardot retired to her Riviera villa in St. Tropez at the age of 39 in 1973 after “The Woman Grabber.” As fans brought flowers to her home Sunday, the local St. Tropez administration called for “respect for the privacy of her family and the serenity of the places where she lived.”

Middle-aged reinvention

She emerged a decade later with a new persona: An animal rights lobbyist, her face was wrinkled and her voice was deep following years of heavy smoking. She abandoned her jet-set life and sold off movie memorabilia and jewelry to create a foundation devoted exclusively to the prevention of animal cruelty.

Depression sometimes dogged her, and she said that she attempted suicide again on her 49th birthday.

Her activism knew no borders. She urged South Korea to ban the sale of dog meat and once wrote to U.S. President Bill Clinton asking why the U.S. Navy recaptured two dolphins it had released into the wild.

She attacked centuries-old French and Italian sporting traditions including the Palio, a free-for-all horse race, and campaigned on behalf of wolves, rabbits, kittens and turtle doves.

“It’s true that sometimes I get carried away, but when I see how slowly things move forward … my distress takes over,” Bardot told the AP when asked about her racial hatred convictions and opposition to Muslim ritual slaughter,

In 1997, several towns removed Bardot-inspired statues of Marianne after the actress voiced anti-immigrant sentiment. Also that year, she received death threats after calling for a ban on the sale of horse meat.

Environmental campaigner Paul Watson, who was beaten on a seal hunt protest in Canada alongside Bardot in 1977 and campaigned with her for five decades, acknowledged that “many disagreed with Brigitte’s politics or some of her views.”

“Her allegiance was not to the world of humans,” he said. “The animals of this world lost a wonderful friend today.”

Bardot once said that she identified with the animals that she was trying to save.

“I can understand hunted animals, because of the way I was treated,” Bardot said. “What happened to me was inhuman. I was constantly surrounded by the world press.”

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Elaine Ganley provided reporting for this story before her retirement. Angela Charlton contributed to this report.

The Los Angeles County Medical Examiner’s office said in online records that Ransone died by suicide on Friday.

Ransone’s film credits include “It: Chapter Two,” “The Black Phone” and “Black Phone 2,” and he appeared in TV shows including the cop drama “Bosch” and “Poker Face.”

Messages seeking comment were left for representatives of Ransone on Sunday, as well as with a spokesperson for the medical examiner’s office.

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EDITOR’S NOTE — In the U.S., the national suicide and crisis lifeline is available by calling or texting 988. There is also an online chat at 988lifeline.org

His husband, Claudio Gama, confirmed the news to TV Insider, saying, “It was a shock for me and our families and our friends. For more than 30 years, Tony has been my friend, my companion, my husband.”

Geary grew up in Utah, moving to Los Angeles in the late-1960s to pursue a career in Hollywood. His first role was in an episode of “Room 222,” which helped him land small parts in “All in the Family,” “Dan August,” “Mod Squad,” “The Partridge Family” and the film “Johnny Got His Gun.” In his early career, he was credited as Tony Geary.

His breakout came in 1978, when Geary was tapped to play the street-savvy hustler Luke Spencer on ABC’s “General Hospital.” Luke’s romance with Laura Webber (played by Genie Francis) culminated in an on-screen wedding that was watched by 30 million live viewers. The 1981 installment remains the highest-rated soap opera episode in American TV history. Geary and Francis’; scripted relationship became a cultural phenomenon, and the two actors graced the cover of Newsweek in 1981.

Geary’s character also brought new themes to “General Hospital” that expanded the show beyond the medical genre, including espionage storylines, mob intrigue and overseas subplots.

From 1978 to 2017, Geary appeared in 1,997 episodes of “General Hospital.”

He was nominated for 17 Daytime Emmys and won a record-breaking eight. He retired from the role in 2015 and appeared in a cameo in an episode in 2017.

Geary moved to Amsterdam with Gama, and the two got married in 2019.

He died in his home in New York City, his manager, Gregg Edwards confirmed on Friday. His cause of death was not immediately released.

“He was just a terrific guy,” said Edwards. “Arguably one of the greatest character actors on the planet; Has worked with everybody.”

Born in Montclair, New Jersey, Greene landed some of his first leading roles in “Laws of Gravity” in 1992 and “Clean, Shaven” in 1993, according to IMDb.

In 1994, he played the memorable villain in Quentin Tarantino’s “Pulp Fiction,” who is brought in to torture characters played by Bruce Willis and Ving Rhames. That same year, he played another leading villain opposite Jim Carrey and Cameron Diaz in “The Mask.”

Greene was working on two projects when he died, including a documentary about the federal government’s withdrawal of funding from the U.S. Agency for International Development, according to Edwards.

“We’ve been friends for over a decade,” said Edwards. “Just the nicest man.”

The statement did not specify a cause of death, but said Stern “died comfortably at his home.”

“At RAMSA, we grieve the loss of our founder, mentor, and friend, and remain committed to carrying forth his ideals,” the statement from the firm’s partners said.

Born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1939, Stern founded the Robert A. M. Stern Architects firm, now known as RAMSA, in 1969. He gained acclaim for his decades of work and style, which blended postmodernism with contextual design, drawing inspiration from historic and traditional styles.

He was widely known for 15 Central Park West, a luxury condominium featuring a recognizable limestone exterior in Manhattan bordering Central Park. The building opened in 2008 and has attracted prominent, wealthy and famous tenants.

Stern’s works also include the George W. Bush Presidential Center in Dallas, the Museum of the American Revolution in Philadelphia, the Gerald R. Ford School of Public Policy at the University of Michigan and Disney’s Yacht and Beach Club Resorts in Florida.

Stern’s architectural firm also designed the glass-fronted building in downtown Allentown originally known as the PPL Plaza. Construction on the $60 million structure, located on the site of the iconic Hess’s department store at Ninth and Hamilton streets, started in 2002 and was completed in 2003.

The structure was noted for its environmentally-friendly features, including a rooftop building and a glass atrium that brings natural lighting to 90 percent of the building. It was the first privately owned building in Pennsylvania to achieve LEED Gold certification for energy efficiency.

When a new owner took over the building in 2019, it hired Stern’s firm to design upgrades on the structure, which was renamed the Grand Plaza. DLP Capital bought it at an auction in 2021, and has since converted the former office building into condominiums, known as The Hamilton at Grand Plaza.

Stern served as dean of the Yale School of Architecture from 1998 to 2016. He was previously the director of Columbia University’s Temple Hoyne Buell Center for the Study of American Architecture.

The Morning Call contributed to this report.

Sharon Camp, a public policy expert and advocate for women’s reproductive health who was known as the mother of Plan B, the emergency contraceptive pill, and who founded what was surely one of the world’s smallest pharmaceutical companies to bring it to market, died Oct. 25 in La Plata, Maryland. She was 81.

Talcott Camp, a cousin, confirmed the death, in a rehabilitation facility, but did not specify a cause.

For nearly a half-century, doctors have known that women can prevent pregnancy within 72 hours of unprotected sex by taking a high dose of oral contraceptives. Initially, this remedy was not widely promoted; instead, it was used mostly in rape crisis centers in the United States and later in international refugee communities to help women who had been raped as an act of war, notably victims of sexual assault in the former Yugoslavia.

Camp, who had a doctorate in international relations, was a family-planning veteran. But for years she was only vaguely aware of emergency contraception, or the morning-after pill, as it is widely known.

A seasoned Capitol Hill lobbyist, she had come up during the 1970s, when family planning was a bipartisan issue. Even opponents of abortion were supportive, because effective contraception meant fewer abortions.

As vice president of the Population Crisis Committee (now Population Action International), a nonprofit focused on reproductive health care, particularly in developing nations, she had traveled throughout in Africa and had seen the consequences of poor reproductive care and lack of information in communities there. And like many women of her generation, she had firsthand experience: When she was 23, she had nearly died after having an illegal abortion in Mexico.

Following years of policy work, Camp was determined to get contraception directly into the hands of women and to make abortions safer. In the late 1980s, she and others founded the Reproductive Health Technologies Project, which worked to bring mifepristone, the so-called abortion pill, to the United States.

Then, Camp turned her attention to emergency contraception.

She studied its use in Europe, where it was not only legal but also mainstream, and learned of efforts to make it available in the United States. In California, clinics had come up with an expensive and complicated workaround: cutting up packets of birth control pills and repackaging them in sets of eight, the dosage required in most cases to prevent pregnancy during the first 72 hours after sex.

What was needed, Camp realized, was a simple pharmaceutical product. A Hungarian company was already making one and willing to partner with an American pharmaceutical company, but she was unable to find one that was interested.

In January 1997, Camp founded Women’s Capital Corp. — initially, she said, it was a company of just three people, including herself — and began the daunting process for a business novice of figuring out how to get the drug packaged, marketed, distributed and, most important, approved by the Food and Drug Administration.

She knew she would need some deep-pocket investors, and she approached 150 venture capital firms. They all turned her down.

Then she approached donors from the reproductive health community, Planned Parenthood affiliates and other foundations, cobbling together their investments with grants and loans. Garnering them, she got to work.

A naming company was hired to come up with something to call the pill. Plan B, one of 25 suggestions, was the clear winner.

In one of many setbacks, the FDA rejected the name, declaring that it “was unacceptable because it’s flippant and has a meaningless B suffix,” as Camp learned later, when she got hold of the agency’s naming committee minutes through a Freedom of Information Act request.

“But we knew this was the right name for this product,” she said, in no small part because it was easy to remember. “Given all the barriers to access,” she added, “it seemed very important to us that people could remember what to ask for.”

The twists and turns of how Plan B got to market, as Camp recounted in her oral history, played out like a thriller.

“It was a thriller,” said Francine Coeytaux, a veteran of the reproductive health movement who worked alongside Camp, “and Sharon was the author.”

In 1999, the drug and its name were proved by the FDA, but it stipulated that Plan B would be available only with a doctor’s prescription.

The next hurdle was approval for over-the-counter sales, Camp’s ultimate goal, which the drug received in 2006, though it was available only to women over the age of 18 (those 17 and under still needed a prescription), and only after pressure from Sens. Hillary Clinton of New York and Patty Murray of Washington state, who had threatened to block the appointment of a new FDA commissioner. A year earlier, Susan F. Wood, the director of the agency’s office of women’s health, had resigned to protest the delay.

“This is a way to prevent unwanted pregnancy and thereby prevent abortion,” Wood told The New York Times in 2005. “This should be something that we should all agree on.”

By then, she had moved on, wooed away by the Guttmacher Institute, a global research and policy organization focused on reproductive health, to become its president and CEO. She had sold her company to Barr Pharmaceuticals in 2003; many company acquisitions later, the pill is now known as Plan B One-Step.

Plan B did not make Camp rich. Half of the proceeds went to the nonprofits that financed the product’s development; the rest went into a charitable trust. One beneficiary was Pomona College in California, Camp’s alma mater.

Sharon Lee Camp was born Nov. 7, 1943, in Easton, Pennsylvania, the eldest of three daughters of June (Stout) and Albert Camp, a scientist who worked for the Navy. Part of her childhood was spent on a base in China Lake, California, where her father was developing rocket fuels.

She graduated from Pomona, where she majored in international relations, in 1965, and later earned a master’s degree and a doctorate in the same subject from Johns Hopkins University.

Camp’s first job after graduate school was as a lobbyist, working on food programs for children and Native Americans. She then joined the Population Crisis Committee, where she remained for nearly two decades.

She is survived by a sister, Cindy Lou Hampton.

Camp retired from the Guttmacher Institute in 2013, the same year, coincidently, that Plan B and generic versions of the drug were finally approved for over-the-counter use without age restrictions.

There continued to be challenges, as many on the right contended that the drug was an abortifacient — meaning that it caused the premature termination of a pregnancy. (It does not; it prevents conception, as regular birth control pills do.) The labeling was confusing, and it wasn’t until 2022 that the FDA revised the enclosed leaflets to clarify that the medication acts before fertilization occurs.

Camp decried the growing polarization over women’s reproductive health issues that she had seen during her years in Washington; she had hoped that Plan B would bring the warring factions together.

“One of the things that has attracted me about emergency contraception from the beginning is that the pro-choice movement doesn’t really own it,” she said in 2003. “It’s the anti-abortion pill.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Former state Senate Leader David “Chip” Brightbill of Lebanon County, who in a nearly 25-year legislative career left his mark on Pennsylvania with landmark legislation on economic development and environmental policy, was remembered Friday as a committed public servant and champion for his constituents following his death. He was 83.

Brightbill served in the Senate from 1982 to 2006, representing the 48th District that included part of Berks County, as well as much of western Lehigh County. During his last six years in office, Brightbill was Senate Majority Leader.

Current Senate President Pro Tempore Kim Ward and Senate Majority Leader Joe Pittman issued a joint statement, saying they were “incredibly saddened” by Brightbill’s passing and praising his “unwavering commitment to helping others.”

Brightbill, a Republican, was the architect of a model environmental law in 1995 that led to the clean up of 10,000 polluted sites across Pennsylvania and created 150,000 jobs.

He was instrumental in securing passage of legislation that created of the departments of Environmental Protection and Conservation and Natural Resources, and helped preserve tens of thousands of acres of natural land and many waterways, according to David Hess, a former DEP secretary who worked with Brightbill when Brightbill was chairman of the Senate Environmental Committee.

Hess called the Land Recycling Program the most successful cleanup and economic development initiative ever created in Pennsylvania.

“His leadership was instrumental in the many legislative successes on environmental issues during the Ridge and Schweiker administrations,” Hess wrote in his blog.

Ward and Pittman’s statement noted that Brightbill’s accomplishments also included ensuring electric supplier competition in the state.

“Chip was a skilled, practical legislator who was especially passionate about helping his district,” they said. “He will be remembered for his creative approach to solving problems, his ability to negotiate difficult, complex issues and his encyclopedic knowledge of the legislative process.”

Brightbill began his career as a reporter for the Lebanon Daily News in the mid-1960s before becoming an attorney. He served on the Lebanon School Board from 1965 to 1967 and was Lebanon County district attorney from 1977 to 1981.

Brightbill lost his Senate seat after being defeated in the 2006 Republican primary, following voter outrage over the late-night legislative pay raise vote. He went on to head government relations for the law firm Stevens & Lee.

Former Gov. Ed Rendell, who worked closely with Brightbill during his administration, said although they came from different political parties, they “worked well together.”

“I think he is greatly responsible for the tremendous economic progress we made as a state,” Rendell said in an interview with PennLive.

“There was tremendous growth and it was good for the economy. And we couldn’t have done it without the cooperation of leader Brightbill. Chip was a worthy adversary, but he also knew when to join together to do things that were good for the state.”

PennLive staff writer Tirzah Christopher contributed to this article.

©2025 Advance Local Media LLC. Visit pennlive.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.

Dischinat, 79, executive director for Workforce Board Lehigh Valley since 1998, died Saturday.

Dischinat, who lived in Moore Township, was the face of the Workforce Board, appearing at business events across the Lehigh Valley and giving updates on the state of jobs in the region with a folksy charm. One of her last appearances was at the Greater Lehigh Valley Chamber of Commerce’s Lehigh Valley Manufacturers Forum on Oct. 1.

During that speech, she asked businesses to give younger workers a chance to fill their openings. Dischinat was passionate about helping emerging professionals entering the job market for the first time.

“We need their engagement in the workforce to meet the demand,” she said. “It’s our responsibility to inform them of the jobs and the career pathways and manufacturing, we need to be more creative manufacturers. We’re very willing to help you.”

Dischinat worked for Whitehall Township before moving to the chamber to help with an apprenticeship program.

Her proudest accomplishment was creating the workforce development system in the region, she told The Morning Call after her retirement announcement. The system includes job listings and data to point employees and employers in the right direction.

“My goal is every employer in the Lehigh Valley has a career pathway on their website so the young kids can look at it and say, ‘Oh, I might like that,’ because the data tells us that’s where we’re getting our workforce,” Dischinat said.

Those who worked alongside her over the last few decades spoke highly of the woman who helped shape the workforce system in the region.

Tony Iannelli, president and CEO of Greater Lehigh Valley Chamber of Commerce, said Dishcinat was an amazing woman who always gave 150%.

“She was relentless in her efforts to make the Lehigh Valley a better place,” he said. He worked with her since she was leading workforce development for Private Industry Council, which became Workforce Board.

Lehigh County Executive Phillips Armstrong said Dischinat worked with her in the 1970s, when they both worked in Whitehall. He continued to work with her for the next few decades.

“She lit up a room whenever she entered it,” he said, adding that she had a bubbly personality.

She was entertaining, he said, but added that she got the job done. The amount of grants she got for her program was unbelievable, Armstrong said.

“You can’t think of CareerLink without Nancy,” he said.

“Nancy was a mentor to a lot of women growing in their careers, including me,” Lehigh Valley Planning Commission Executive Director Becky Bradley said. “For the longest time, we were among the only female regional directors in the Lehigh Valley. We’ve had a bond and a partnership, to the point where the Workforce Board and LVPC now share an economist position that was created entirely because we agreed how important it would be to this region’s growing economy. Nancy was a role model who built quite a legacy.”

Don Cunningham, president and CEO of Lehigh Valley Economic Development Corp., said in July that Dischinat played a significant role in the Valley’s economic success.

“The Lehigh Valley’s economy is growing because of the region’s partnership-based approach to attracting and developing the talent that employers need,” said Cunningham, who worked with Dischinat on the Workforce Board and as Lehigh County executive.

“Nancy’s longstanding, passionate commitment to workforce development in the Lehigh Valley has played a leading role in those efforts, positioning our region for success.”

Dischinat is survived by her husband of nearly 60 years, Charles R. Dischinat, and granddaughters, Aubrey Anne Bartholomew and her fiance, Austin Pelliciari, and Abbygail Jennifer Bartholomew. She was predeceased by her daughter, Jennifer Bartholomew.

The Texas-born academic, a prominent chemical engineer, served as president of the Bethlehem school from 2006 to 2014. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer four years ago.

In an article on the school’s website, President Joseph J. Helble called Gast a “steadfast champion of Lehigh University” with a remarkable legacy.

“I first met Alice when I was at Dartmouth and she was at MIT, and I was immediately struck by her intellect, her deep curiosity, her thoughtfulness, and her commitment to advancing education and research,” he said.

After leaving Lehigh, Gast became president of Imperial College London, stepping down in 2022. She also was the first woman to lead that school.

“It is with great sadness that I learned of Alice’s passing, following a long illness,” Imperial President Hugh Brady said in a post on the school’s website. “Alice was known for her towering intellect, with a unique ability to see beyond the barriers that tend to confine us — be they academic, geographic, political or societal.”

Gast is survived by her husband, Bradley J. Askins, and their children, Rebecca and David.

During Gast’s tenure at Lehigh, the school developed a campus-wide strategic plan, raised $500 million in a capital campaign and added the 750-acre Stabler Campus in collaboration with Bethlehem.

She strengthened the school’s ties with the city, creating the South Side Initiative — an educational and cultural collaboration among students, faculty and residents — and community school collaborations with elementary and middle schools.

She also heightened the university’s presence outside the United States, working with automotive executive Lee Iacocca, a Lehigh graduate, to create the Iacocca International Internship Program.

Shortly into her tenure, Gast spoke to The Morning Call about the great possibilities she saw for the school.

“Lehigh has the ability to rise to grand challenges,” she said. “We’re a small enough and collegial enough place to bridge technical solutions with the human side, as well. Our faculty has a great enthusiasm for that kind of cooperation.”

At a student lunch, she was asked what pleased her most about the school.

“It really is the people and their serious commitment to Lehigh,” Gast said. “You can’t understand the culture until you’re here. It’s such a cliche, but there is a Lehigh family. You don’t feel that at every university.”

Gast earned her B.S. in chemical engineering from the University of Southern California and her M.A. and Ph.D. from Princeton University.

She taught at Stanford University, and later served as vice president for research and associate provost at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

In Lehigh’s article, Daniel E. Smith, former Lehigh board chair, said Gast came to Lehigh at a pivotal moment.

“Her contributions to Lehigh are immeasurable,” he said. “While too numerous to list, among these were her leadership in the creation of Lehigh’s first strategic plan, the renewal of Lehigh’s focus on research, the strengthening of the board, and the addition of many talented faculty who are among the present academic leaders of Lehigh.”

Schmoyer, 82, founder of Ice Cream World in South Whitehall Township, died peacefully Sunday in his Emmaus home, surrounded by family. Hundreds of people have expressed their condolences online.

“It’s very nice and comforting, but it can be overwhelming too, to see how many people are reaching out,” said Kim MacIver, Schmoyer’s daughter.

Born in Allentown, Schmoyer graduated from Kutztown University with an education degree and taught for several years before he opened Ice Cream World in 1977.

It used to be a Carvel location that he purchased near the former King George Inn before he rebranded and moved it to its current location at 3512 Hamilton Blvd.

After Schmoyer retired, MacIver took over in 2008 alongside her husband Allen.

“I know that a lot of people in our store here throughout the years have made a lot of their own family memories,” she said. “Just from visiting our shop, from coming in with their kids for ice cream, to buying their birthday cakes here every year, to a lot of people making it their family tradition to watch Dorney Park’s fireworks from our parking lot and things like that. And he created all those possibilities with starting the store and making it such a nice, family atmosphere, as well as the impact he had on many of the young employees over the years that he worked with.”

Schmoyer was a hard worker, MacIver said, who treated employees as students and taught them skills such as customer service. He enjoyed skiing and was a private pilot who would take family, friends and employees on plane rides.

As someone who also worked as a teacher for several years, MacIver said she applies his example to her own work.

“He enjoyed working with the young people, I do as well,” she said. “Encouraging them to go to college and teaching them some life skills and … it’s nice to see them grow and learn and go on to bigger and better things from here.”

Schmoyer’s son, Eric Schmoyer, a software developer, said he enjoyed the days that he worked at Ice Cream World during his school years, starting around 10 years old. He never really considered anything else at the time — “that was the family business.”

“By the time I was in high school, I was always trying to just be another employee and not the boss’s son,” he said. “I remember vividly one time when one of my co-workers finally put it together after she had been there a few months and goes, ‘You’re Big Jim’s son!’ And she looks at me and she says, ‘You can’t get fired!’ And I kind of looked at her and I said, ‘Yeah, but I can’t quit either.’ “

Eric called his father a driven and encouraging individual, with a great sense of humor.

“He was always a role model,” he said. “For me, he gave me my work ethic and how to run a business and things like that. Obviously he taught me to ski too, and I also am a pilot because of him. But I think that he encouraged anybody he met with to work hard and pursue their dreams. And that was, I think, apparent even when I started reading some of these comments about the people who he taught to do some of this stuff or … have their first job and learn about managing things or making change at the cash register or whatever. So yeah, in some ways, I think almost being a teacher was more important to him than running a business.”

Ben Kohler, a retired commercial pilot, was one of those individuals whom Schmoyer had given their first job. He was 14 when he began working alongside him at Carvel and later at Ice Cream World, all the way through high school and in the summer during college.

They were close friends, Kohler said, enough to call Schmoyer an older brother. They even owned a plane together, a Piper PA-32 Cherokee Six.

“He obviously employed thousands and thousands of young kids like myself over the years that he ran the business,” Kohler said. “And I just think about him as being just a great teacher. He had the right amount of discipline and patience and … I don’t even know how to describe it, belief in the individual or whatever, but he … I don’t know. I enjoyed working for him. I enjoyed being his friend, and I thought he was just a fantastic teacher. He had a lot of patience. A lot of patience.”

A celebration of life will take place at noon Sunday at Bachman, Kulik & Reinsmith Funeral Homes, 225 Elm St. in Emmaus.