Some Losses Are Bigger Than Others

One winter Sunday evening a few years ago, I received a phone call from the Headmaster at my daughter's boarding school. Immediately, I began to calculate what could be wrong, since Mr. Hamblet  had never before called me at home.

My daughter had been visiting a college over that weekend; we had not heard from her that day. Obviously, I thought, she had transgressed in some way and was being expelled. I would have to go to the local high school in the morning to get her admitted. Etc and etc.

Meanwhile, Mr. Hamblet kept talking about this and that. He hadn't gotten around to dropping the bad news. Impatient, I finally said, "Chuck, why are you calling me?" There was a short silence, before he said, "I and the school would like it very much if you would make the graduation address to seniors on Prize Day in May."

I thought of this conversation last Sunday night, when word arrived that Charles A. "Chuck" Hamblet,  Headmaster Emeritus of St. George's School, had died. If that name doesn't ring your bell, don't worry, Chuck didn't go around ringing bells for himself. He was one of those people on whom our culture depends to hold us all together. You might not have known Chuck, but I'm certain that you've experienced people like him in your own lives. These are the ones with sound values, operating daily with intelligence, generosity, a sense of higher purpose, and courage.

Chuck and others shine the light on us, especially young people, rather than on themselves. They don't need their allotted fifteen minutes of celebrity in our celeb-obsesed world.

After writing six drafts of that speech, I finally arrived at a final version. I'm happy to say that it went well, didn't embarrass my daughter, and Chuck seemed very pleased.

When it was over, the faculty, trustees, seniors and I paraded out of the chapel under threatening clouds. Chuck and I stood on the steps where graduates would receive their diplomas and he asked me if I thought we should move the ceremony indoors. "Your call," he said. He wasn't shirking responsibility; he was simply comfortable putting himself on the line by trusting another's judgement. It was a small gesture, but said much about who he was and how he lived.

"Well," I answered, "You're retiring, and I'm not likely to be in this position again, so let's keep it outside. If it rains, they can't fire us."

Chuck Hamblet was a great educator, leader, role model.  I will miss knowing that he is in this world, but his legacy continues through the minds, hearts and souls of thousands of people. Some losses really are bigger than others.

I almost forgot: it didn't rain that day.


Thirdgarage has made a donation in memory of Charles A. Hamblet to Partners In Health for earthquake relief in Haiti. We ask that you consider making a donation at:  http://www.pih.org/home.html
Thank you.