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A million things. Where to start?
In an America where Pat Robertson can go on national television to say liberal judges pose a greater threat to the Republic than the Civil War, Nazi Germany, or "a few bearded terrorists who fly into buildings", sometimes it helps to be reminded of larger things.
Yesterday, I received a hardcover book in the mail from my high school. Rather, from the high school I attended twenty years ago. It set me off on an emotional tailspin from which I've yet to recover. Perhaps I should explain.
This year, St. Rita High School turns 100. As part of the ongoing commemorations, they've issued what amounts to a centennial yearbook. I hadn't ordered a copy, yet here it was.
More mysterious yet, there was a note attached apologising for failing to include my name in the list of contributors.
I vaguely remember talking to somebody from the alumni association, maybe a year ago, but I certainly don't recall sending them anything. So I start reading. At the very end, in the list of sources, right under the listing for the Chicago Archdiocese Archives, I found this:
Thom Ryng ('84) e-article: http://www.livejournal.com/users/thomryng/5945.html
So I went back and read the article. (Go ahead, I'll wait for you. Done? Excellent; carry on.)
The memories of Dr Racky came flooding back to me again, a hearty mixture of nostalgia and pride and gratitude and grief. I looked him up in the book. There are two pictures of him, one as a young man and one shortly before he died, I think. Underneath it says:
And make no mistake; Dr Racky was a great man. He had a larger and more profound positive influence on the world in those 42 years than I'm likely to have in a century, should I live that long.
And that, my friends, is the real meaning of life, the universe, and everything.
In an America where Pat Robertson can go on national television to say liberal judges pose a greater threat to the Republic than the Civil War, Nazi Germany, or "a few bearded terrorists who fly into buildings", sometimes it helps to be reminded of larger things.
Yesterday, I received a hardcover book in the mail from my high school. Rather, from the high school I attended twenty years ago. It set me off on an emotional tailspin from which I've yet to recover. Perhaps I should explain.
This year, St. Rita High School turns 100. As part of the ongoing commemorations, they've issued what amounts to a centennial yearbook. I hadn't ordered a copy, yet here it was.
More mysterious yet, there was a note attached apologising for failing to include my name in the list of contributors.
I vaguely remember talking to somebody from the alumni association, maybe a year ago, but I certainly don't recall sending them anything. So I start reading. At the very end, in the list of sources, right under the listing for the Chicago Archdiocese Archives, I found this:
Thom Ryng ('84) e-article: http://www.livejournal.com/users/thomryng/5945.html
So I went back and read the article. (Go ahead, I'll wait for you. Done? Excellent; carry on.)
The memories of Dr Racky came flooding back to me again, a hearty mixture of nostalgia and pride and gratitude and grief. I looked him up in the book. There are two pictures of him, one as a young man and one shortly before he died, I think. Underneath it says:
Donald Racky ('54) was an institution at St. Rita, having arrived in 1959. Dr Racky was one of those teachers who touched many lives and, quite frankly, never really did leave St Rita as his spirit lives on today; Dr Racky spent his career at St Rita - 42 years. One of his students, Thom Ryng ('84), wrote in an e-article on his influential teachers that "Dr Racky... taught me how to think. I learned the art and science of critical thinking in his classroom." A fitting tribute to Dr Racky. The Augustinians awarded Dr Racky the Filiis Ordinis.All right, this isn't earth-shaking stuff or prize-winning writing. My entire contribution to this book is two sentences, but I am absolutely humbled that of all the things written about this great man, it is a fragment of my eulogy that appears in this book. I'm more proud of those two sentences appearing where they do than of anything else I've written.
And make no mistake; Dr Racky was a great man. He had a larger and more profound positive influence on the world in those 42 years than I'm likely to have in a century, should I live that long.
And that, my friends, is the real meaning of life, the universe, and everything.
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