Honoring the Colonel

This week a very dear man passed away.  He was one of my professors while I was at College of the Ozarks, and he made a big impact on my life, even though I only knew him mostly from a distance.  The outpouring of love and fond memories posted via Facebook has been overwhelming, and evidence of a life full of integrity, respect and deep care for others.  Within 24 hours of his death, there had been three separate Facebook pages created to honor him in various ways, and each one of them had over 1000 likes.  In less than 24 hours.  One thing I have noticed and learned in the past few days since this has happened is how much the little things mean to people:  smile a lot; ask how people's day is going, and genuinely care about their answer; remember people's names; treat people with respect; have a sense of humor; be genuine; have integrity; recognize people for service and hard work; pursue excellence in whatever you do.  All of these things wrapped together in one joy-filled, extra caring man is what made him so memorable and special, even if you only had one interaction with him or only knew him from a distance.  

The purpose of one of the Facebook pages is to compile memories to be put into a memorial book for the family.  Participants were asked to share memories, pictures, songs, and poems.  I'll end this post by sharing what I shared on that page:

My favorite memory of the colonel was when it came time to test out of the physical portion of Citizenship class. Despite many warnings that it was very difficult to test out by walking, this non-athlete thought that it was my best bet, so I set off in the late afternoon heat at the best pace my short legs could keep. As the minutes wore on, many of the runners tested out, many others failed or decided it was futile, and before I knew it, I was one of the only ones left on the track. I had almost reached my goal, was almost done, but it was clear that I was becoming very weary, and it was also clear that if I didn't pick it up I would not make it in the allotted time. I will never forget the last half lap, the colonel came out in front of me with his stop watch and started motivating me. "This is how fast you have to walk to make it. Come on!" It gave me the surge that I needed to keep going. I will never forget the pride I felt as I crossed the finish line and the colonel showed me the stop watch, accompanied by that one of a kind smile. I had passed with seconds to spare! I am now about to run my second half-marathon and sometimes when the training gets tough, I remember that afternoon. I remember the pride that I felt when I crossed the finish line and reached my goal, thanks to the encouragement of a professional and caring motivator, and it keeps me running through the finish. I can't wait to meet up with him again in eternity and celebrate the joy of reaching that ultimate and final destination together.