Harvard Palmer may have been known as an accomplished lawyer and die-hard sailor, but his most memorable trait was something he was born with — that voice.

Mr. Palmer paid his way through law school singing in Seattle church choirs. His rich, deep bass later became an instrument that could intimidate business adversaries or quietly sing his two sons to sleep.

Mr. Palmer died April 15 from liver cancer. He was 90.

"He had that wonderful voice, and he would use it on any provocation whatsoever," remembered Fred Danz of Kirkland, a longtime friend.

Mr. Palmer was born the son of a postman on Sept. 17, 1914, in Carlinville, Ill., and the family moved to Seattle three years later to escape tornado country.

At Broadway High School, Mr. Palmer's voice in the Broadway Acapella Choir made him as popular as the star quarterback.

"A real good bass singer was hard to find," said his son, Greg Palmer. "It usually takes awhile for that [tone] to develop."

Despite winning accolades in his youth, singing wasn't a talent he would pursue as a career. In 1938, Mr. Palmer graduated from the University of Washington and entered its law school. He got his first job in 1940 at the law firm of Falknor, Emory & Howe working on bank-related cases.

He put singing aside; life in a suit and tie was calling.

"He always wanted to be a professional," Greg Palmer said. "He stopped singing when he became a lawyer because he thought there should be dignity to certain professions."

Mr. Palmer left the law firm in 1948 to join the trust division of Seattle First National Bank. His last career move came in 1970 when he left the bank to become vice president of Clise Properties. He attended a board meeting three weeks before he died, his family said.

Outside of work, Mr. Palmer was a dedicated sailor who felt most at peace when he was sanding his boats and fixing their engines. He believed you couldn't enjoy a boat unless you poured your sweat into it, his family said.

Age caught up with him. Getting in and out of the boat was more than his body could take, said Norm Cole, his friend of more than 50 years. Their last boat ride together was in spring 2003.

"We both decided we were getting too old," Cole said.

But Mr. Palmer's voice still had the power to cause chills.

A year and a half ago, Greg Palmer, a broadcast journalist, was producing a series for PBS on World War II. He needed someone to do the voice-over for an American general who ordered the bombing of German civilians. He asked his father to utter the words "War is ruthless."

"I said 'Pop, I want you to sound as mean and cruel and as emotionless as you can,' " Greg Palmer said. "He did it in one take." He was so convincing, Greg Palmer said, that "the executive producer said to me later: 'That's your father? Oh my God, you poor boy.' "

In addition to his son, Mr. Palmer's survivors include son Harvard Palmer Jr. of Oakland, Calif.; and grandsons Ira and Nathaniel Palmer. His wife, Gertrude, whom he married in 1939, died in 2000.

An informal gathering will be held in his honor at the Seattle Yacht Club Outstation at Elliott Bay Marina on Thursday, from 4 to 7 p.m.

Sonia Krishnan: 206-515-5546 or skrishnan@seattletimes.com