In Memory of Bob Hanks

Eulogy for Bob Hanks, 22 April, 2002; from John Pinschmidt ...continued

Bob?s wife Maureen, often a very private person, has given me permission to reveal several aspects of Bob?s life. Her two children, Joanne and Christopher, agreed also to share this. Bob was an only child. At age 81, Bob?s father died, at his own hand too. It happened late the same day Bob?s mother passed away after a long, wasting illness. Bob had already experienced periodic bouts of depression. And, you should be aware that Bob was one of the most stubborn men I have ever known---he absolutely refused to seek outside assistance for what troubled him. This pattern must stop here.

Shakespeare said, "There?s no art to find the mind?s construction in the face." Indeed, we can never plumb the depths of someone?s mind or soul. Bob?s untimely, awful end will remain an enigma, even to those who knew him best. Now, I address this especially to his beloved students: we cannot know why he did it? But it was not personal. None of us had a chance to prevent it or to say good bye before he left us. We must come to terms with this extraordinary man?s final act. He loved his students and his profession. He was a perfectionist, and often worked 16-hour days, and came in to school seven days a week. On his own terms, he lived in this school, and he died in this school. As overwhelmingly tragic as this was, it was also for him, somehow, fitting.

If such a seemingly senseless act shocks us into examining our own lives, good can come from this. It was a final lesson, as boldly presented as his classes, which he kept working endlessly to improve. We must dedicate ourselves to Bob Hanks? quest for excellence, but not set the bar too high. In times of need, we must seek solace and comfort. Life is so relentless, so difficult: please, reach out to others.

I close now with a short work by the Czech poet, Vladimir Holan.

RESURRECTION

Is it true, that after this life of ours, we shall one day be awakened
by a terrifying clamour of trumpets?
Forgive me, God, but I console myself
that the beginning and resurrection of all of us dead
will simply be announced by the crowing of the rooster.

After that we?ll remain lying down a while?
The first to get up
will be Mother?We?ll hear her
quietly laying the fire,
quietly putting the kettle on the stove
and cozily taking the teapot out of the cupboard.
We?ll be home once more.

Bob, I do hope you got it wrong. I hope your brilliant, restless spirit still lodges somewhere, not only in our hearts. That way, you know how much you were loved here.

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