Barry Lynch, pioneer in computer programming, dies at 92

A quote from a British sci-fi show “Dr. Who” seems applicable to the life of Barry Dexter Lynch: “We’re all just stories in the end. Make it a good one.”

In 92 years, Lynch did exactly that.

He rose from a poor rural Mississippi upbringing to become a successful sales- and businessman, one of the early pioneers in computer programming, an Air Force fighter pilot and a banking consultant guiding financial institutions in navigating the switch from paper records to digital.

His stories about those days and his accomplishments became legendary in his family circle.

Lynch displayed a sharp intelligence paired with superior analytical skills, his family said. Solving problems, even thorny ones, came naturally to him. And he wasn’t afraid to apply unorthodox-seeming solutions

“He was a man before his time,” said daughter-in-law Nicole Lynch.

Lynch died Dec. 31 of what family members described as natural causes. He’s survived by his children: Linda Ware, Robert Lynch, David Lynch, Michael Lynch (Nicole), Laura Stephenson (Randy), Walter Lynch (Emily); and stepdaughters Catherine Bierman and Virginia Bennett. He is also survived by several grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Relatives say his roots on a rural farm outside of Jackson, Mississippi, were a telling inflection point in his life.

His mother died of childbirth complications, just days after he was born. His father died when he was 9, leaving young Lynch and his stepmother.

“After his father died, he became the one to write the checks and pay the bills,” said daughter Linda Ware. “So he grew up very fast and learned to be responsible and have a business mindset early on.”

After graduating from Georgia Tech with an engineering degree, he served a required hitch in the Air Force as a fighter pilot. Son Walter Lynch says that military service provided opportunities to think outside the box. One involved a tricky navigational exercise.

“They put you out in a place where you are not really sure where you are and you have to navigate your way back using available tools,” said his son.

Walter says his dad was having issues getting oriented so seeing a little town below, he swooped his plane down low to read the name of the town on the side of a water tower: Dilley, Texas. It gave him a leg up on finding a way back.

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be done, but it worked out really well,” he said. “After that, the guys he trained with started calling him ‘Dilly the kid.’”

At IBM, he became one of the pioneers in computer programming, writing software for the behemoth machines of the late 1950s and early 1960s, family members said.

He became expert through “learn-by-doing” and by taking advantage of the then state-of-the-art IBM training, relatives said. It was intense work.

His daughter-in-law said he’d get so immersed in an assignment that he’d look and see that it was, for example, 7 o’clock. “Then he’d have to rub his chin to see if he’d grown a beard, so he’d know if it was A.M. or P.M.”

Hiring talented people proved another problem to solve, in an era before computer science degrees. From analyzing applicants, he hit upon a strategy of hiring music and math majors, and chess players. It worked, he told his family, because all those areas required a needed depth of thought and analysis.

His design work spanned such employers as Texas Commerce Bank and Hughes Tool Company, as well as the military, for which he put together complex and sometimes classified computer information systems.

“(My father) was really good at reading people,” a skill that served him well during his management roles, said Walter.

Linda Ware recalled when one of her dad’s employers brought in a third-party group to evaluate the effectiveness of managers there.