Saturday, February 2, 2008

From Sally (Tapert) Forrest

Bits and Pieces

By Lois Cheney

People,
People important to you,
People unimportant to you,
Cross your life,
Touch it with love and carelessness
And move on.
There are people who leave you
And you breathe a sigh of relief
And wonder why you ever
Came into contact with them.
There are people who leave you
And you breathe a sigh of remorse
And wonder why they had to go away
And leave such a gaping hole.

Children leave parents,
Friends leave friends.
Acquaintances move on,
People change houses.
People grow apart.
Enemies hate and move on.
Friends love and move on.
You think on the many
Who have moved into your hazy memory.
You look on those present and wonder.

I believe in a master plan
In lives moving people
In and out of each other’s lives,
And each leaves a mark on the other.
You find you are made up of bits and pieces
Of all who ever touched your life,
And you are more because of it,
And you would be less
If they had not touched you.
Hope that you accept the bits and pieces
In humility and wonder,
And never question,
And never regret.

1 comment:

former classmate said...

As early as the CR junior high days, when I was first one of his classmates, Ken set the standard for being as outrageously fun as could possibly be imagined- daily crossing the line into the utterly absurd. He led the campaign to elect a nonexistent candidate (the fabricated 'Mark Thomas') as class president, in Mr. Kepler's 8th grade social studies class.

 By the CRHS years, Ken had become an actor par excellence in life as the 'theater of the absurd'. This had an electrifying power, as those alumni of Mrs. Scarborough's Latin class, or those swept up in the vortex of the 'Ole' movement can attest. At times it seemed the school was reeling out of control, tilting on the brink of chaos. Any attempt by the administration to take the situation firmly in hand was like squashing (trying to grasp) silly putty.

An illustration:
There was thunderous laughter as the Latin teacher addressed Ken, using his Latin name: "Now settle down, settle down, let's not be silly now, Crassus. YOU"RE A FOOL, CRASSUS!" That was like throwing gasoline on a fire, because in that auspicious moment, we sensed that Ken had been crowned both king and court jester.

What Ken offered was liberation from the every day regimen of studies and sanctioned activities. 'The Spang' was a master of irreverence, and his method was absurdity. If he saw that spark of individuality, some light of freedom shining in your eye- you who were not afraid to question the rules- he led you to develop that courage by constantly testing the limits. The limits were the suffocating conventions of society, and Ken broke them down by daring us all- from all walks of life- to go beyond what was expected of us, to define excellence and courage on our own terms, to laugh all sense of normalcy into oblivion.

Ken was a revolutionary. During the insurrection that rose like a tide over Caesar Rodney in his years there, you had to read between the lines to find the message: having the courage to be yourself.
 Thus unconstrained, unshackled, those acquainted with Ken became more fully human. Those of us 'liberated by this prison break of the spirit' can thank Ken for lighting the way.

One of the paradoxes of Ken's life was that just as he was undermining the very foundation of the establishment, he was excelling at not just some, but ALL of the values of the established order. He could not be dismissed as only a 'jock', nor just a 'brain'. His kindness and humanity reached all of his peers, and his message was universal.

Those who knew Ken have been scattered to the four winds, but I like to think that no matter which road we all took, Ken demonstrated to us all that we can find the courage to choose our own route.

   Once, late in the CRHS years, Ken told me that he was curious about what awaits us in the afterlife, and that he was actually tempted to try to find out. I didn't take him seriously at the time. Did we lose him because of his superabundance of courage?
    I have never really mourned Ken's absence, because I don't feel that he is really 'gone', not in in the ways that really matter. Even in his physical 'absence', he has more of a 'presence' than most people ever will ever have, as those who have contributed to this website have testified.


-Dennis ('Chip') Cannon, Taipei Taiwan