When great men pass away, they pass on the torch. Dad was a great man. It’s up to each of us whose lives Dad touched, not just to carry the torch forward but to keep it burning bright along the way.
More Than We Knew
Most of you think you know who Dad is. All of you are here today because you shared something special with Dad. For that, I will be forever grateful, and I thank you all sincerely. But, I am here to tell you that whatever you thought you knew about Dad, there was more to him.
In recent days, I’ve seen Dad described as humble, a family man, loving. All this is true. But he was much more than that—much, much more.
I know some of you might be saying, “How well could you know him if you have been in Oregon for the last year.” It’s true, I recently moved to Oregon, but I spoke to Dad every day. I knew him as well as any man can know any other man. I’m here today to fill in the missing pieces about him. To ensure that Dad’s story is written the way he would have wanted.
Simplicity, Integrity, and What He Valued
Picasso once said simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.
Dad was the most sophisticated man. He was no puff, no frills. He was a doer. He led by example. He wasn’t distracted by the haters and didn’t waste time trying to keep appearances. He didn’t care about luxury cars, or fine clothes, or fine dining. What he did care about was the stuff that truly mattered.
He cared about people. He cared about authenticity. He cared about academics. He cared about storytelling. He cared about history. He cared about courage. He cared about honor. He cared about philosophy. He cared about winning. He cared about doing what was right even when nobody was watching. I want to hone in on these last two points. Winning and doing what’s right even if nobody is watching.
Or integrity.
In the end, Dad succeeded in this journey we call life, not because he gained at others’ expense, not because he was the loudest, not because he was the most aggressive, not because he earned money, but because he was able to preserve his integrity in the face of mighty challenges and formidable foes. In this day and age, that makes him nothing short of a hero.
Eyes That Saw the Flame
When it came to people, Dad was a visionary. He saw what few others will ever see. When you met him, you knew. You could feel it. There is something special about this man. This man is not like the rest. He’s different. He’s cut from a different cloth. Why? How? Questions abound. Well, I have the answer. The reason is because Dad looked into your eyes when others would look away. And when he did, he could see the burning flame reflecting back.
From that point forward, you had an ally in Dad. He was your greatest champion in times of triumph. Your consigliere in times of turmoil. He did all this; he invested so much of himself for you, not for self-gain, not because he wanted something in return, but because he saw a potential in you that you didn’t even know you had. And he wanted to do everything he could to see that that potential was not wasted.
Dad was a genius. Having spent my entire life in academics and attended some of the finest universities, I don’t use the word lightly. The evidence? It’s this. Dad understood what few others in academia or elsewhere will ever realize. That who you are as a human being is defined not by your status at birth, not by who your parents are, not by titles, or how much money you make. Who you are is a direct and proximate result of your actions.
Every day, in his work life and home life, Dad applied this philosophy in its purest form. He didn’t just talk about it. He lived it. It was his North Star. And he never lost sight of it. Dad strived to ensure that the fruits of his labor were spread as far and wide as possible. He gave so much of himself for others because he wanted as many people to benefit from his presence on this planet before it was time to go.
Carrying the Torch Forward
When great men pass away, they pass on the torch. It’s up to each of us whose lives Dad touched, not just to carry the torch forward but to keep it burning bright along the way.
So, as you carry the torch forward, I urge you not to settle for mediocrity, not even in the little things. I know I won’t. The little things. Dad cared about the little things because he knew that one day, on a day not unlike today, those little things would become the big things.
Finally, I want to end with this. Dad wasn’t a role player. Not by a long shot.
He was a star.
So, Dad, I want to make one final request of you.
Because I know you’re watching.
Take a bow.
You were triumphant.