Last Word
Last week we said goodbye to Kevin Clark, whose presence in our club and in our community has been such a warm and welcome one. The occasion prompted some memories from club members of Kevin as a businessman and as a Rotarian. Carey Gray remembers Kevin as the first banker in town who really made her feel supported as a woman in business. He believed in her. He had her back. Kevin Eckhardt, his colleague at First Interstate, described Kevin as the consummate professional, polished and unflappable even in highly charged situations. "He came to the bank with a positive attitude every day," he said.
Those members of the club who are Griz fans (aka, the better half of the club) remember the delight that Kevin took in "the Mallard," the camp trailer that has been a fixture at Griz tailgate parties for as long as anyone can remember. He was always glad to see a fellow Rotarian drop by and enjoy a burger, a beer, and of course lots of laughter.
I'll always remember how willing he was just to fill in the gaps for the club. Whatever was needed - managing the bank for Harvest Howl, setting up tables, being an ambassador for the club at the district conference - Kevin stepped up to do. He especially loved the dictionary project. Every year he would bring back a picture like this one, with a group of happy kids in the foreground and one big happy kid in the back: Kevin Clark. In short, he liked to be of use. There's a poem that captures that kind of person well:
To Be of Use
The people I love the best
jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals bouncing like half-submerged balls ...
I want to be with people who submerge in the task,
who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who stand in the line and haul in their places,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done has a shape that satisfies,
clean and evident. Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
Marge Piercy
Fare well, Kevin. You have done so much work worth doing very, very well. Don't be a stranger. Thank you for all that you are and for all that you have done to make our club - well, be of use.