Mr. Worthy Hudson: Eulogy for a Master Teacher

The name Frank Capra may not be familiar to you, but he is well known. If you have seen the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life,” then you are very familiar with him. The movie is about a man named George Bailey whose life was going very poorly. His life in 1946 looked almost like our life does in 2009. He requested after a while that he be unborn. His guardian angel reluctantly shows George what life would have been like if he wasn’t born. As the movie progresses and much agony, George strongly prayed to return to the life that he took for granted.

Didn’t we have a wonderful life with Mr. Hudson? Didn’t we appreciate the fact that he was there for all of us? Don’t you remember how he smiled when children got up on stage to perform or spell? Wasn’t life wonderful knowing that he was around? I know that I appreciated him. I remember how he used to greet the children in the auditorium every day. Even as he went through pain in his most recent days, he always had a smile and a nice thing to say to each of us. Whenever we needed him, the only word he couldn’t say was NO. I think that was the ONLY word he didn’t know. (I really hope that he didn’t hear me say that.) He helped everyone—child and adult. He was always a true gentleman, a true scholar, and a true Christian. Although he was not a Catholic, he was more of a Catholic in ways he probably couldn’t imagine. In those qualities alone, he never wavered.

During the last few days, people asked me about my friend. No! He was a friend to all of us. When he spoke to you, he made you feel special. He made you feel that you were the most important person in the world. He put all of his attention on you. There was no other person who was more important than YOU. Once you were done talking with him, you were still special to him. When you were feeling down, talking to him made you feel better.

This quiet, unassuming man had numerous strengths. One of them that he enjoyed employing each day was his superior command of the English language. The man was a master wordsmith. He was able to use words the way a composer could use the notes of music. He enjoyed entertaining and educating others with his command of the English language. I remember one day as he taught us teachers the derivation of a set of words and how they were used and pronounced by the different cultures of our school community. He was a man who knew who he was and how smart he was. He never had to rub it in your face, either. If he was in a group of a hundred people, you always knew to go to him for the answer because his smile assured you that he was the person to seek for the truth. He never had to brag and he never did. I watched as he talked with children. A child could have been half his height in physical stature. He merely stooped down to talk with the child, but he NEVER talked down to a child. He treated adults in the same manner. You see he always took an interest in anyone who was fortunate to be in his company at the time. When he spoke with you, he made you feel like you were the most important person on earth. To him, you were. When he spoke to a group, you felt like he was talking just to you because you felt special when he spoke. He listened just as well as he spoke. If you wanted just a pair of ears, he owned the best pair. With his vast knowledge, he could discuss anything. I remember the conversation we had about Barry Bonds and Babe Ruth. We talked endlessly about politics. He even told me that his close friends called him Eddie. We spoke like we knew each other for decades, yet we only had a maximum of 9 years.

We often use the word PRACTICE. To me, practice means that you have to do something over and over again until you get it right. I know that it has a second meaning, but I usually think of the first meaning. I am a practicing Catholic. I have to keep doing what I do until I get it right. Eddie didn’t have to practice his faith. He got it right the first time. He always knew what to do. He never had to practice being a human being. He knew how to be the great human being that he was to us.

He never asked for more than he had. He never asked for anything at all. He realized that he was given what he wanted and what he needed to make him very happy. I remember the times he lovingly worried about his wife Loretta. He spoke with joy about his children Karen and Rodger. He was quietly euphoric when talking about his grandchildren. We must have looked like a clown car at a circus when I got him, Loretta and the grandchildren to their destination one day. I knew I had a challenge ahead of me. I really wanted to chat with him about our school day. So, I had to make this work for all of us. I realized that a 4-seater Japanese car COULD hold almost six people if you really try hard enough. We had lots of fun that day.

He was born to be a teacher. It was his life. It was his passion. He was a true model for us all. This was his home away from home for the last 23 years of his time with us. His genuine love for all students and the school he served was beyond comparison. He was our oracle, our muse, and our advisor. (Come on, Eddie!! Give me some more words here.) You see he was given TWO families. As I mentioned earlier, he had his family at home, but he also had a family here at school. He loved and served both very well. We loved him so much and still can’t picture our school without him. God knew this. Now, God has given him a much bigger assignment. If you close your eyes, you can easily picture him teaching Aristotle or explaining philosophy to Socrates or helping Einstein with his Math. Imagine Solomon being awed at the wisdom of Hudson. I can see him commanding the attention of those in Heaven and amazing them with all that he had acquired here on Earth.

I was extremely fortunate to call him my friend and colleague. I never had a big brother in my life. He was like an older brother to me. Even though I came from a different background than he did, it was easy for him to be my mentor. We became fast friends from the moment we met. While I didn’t anticipate any difficulties from my job, he took the time to give me guidance. He did that with others, too. With me, he was patient. He was also very reassuring. There were many times when I wrote things or spoke in public and he reassured me. I remember doing my public speaking and I knew I made a mistake. He assured me that I was fine and that if I made a mistake, he didn’t notice it. He was no phony. He was genuine. He said what he meant and meant what he said. He was honest.

Mr. Hudson was no George Bailey. He always appreciated his life and the life of those around him. He appreciated his family. He never had to wish to be out of our lives because he knew that we loved him too much to see him go anywhere else. It was hard enough to imagine him away from St. Teresa of Avila when he announced his retirement. He is the very embodiment of our school and parish. I can still feel his presence in the building when I hear the children laughing and playing in the auditorium. I can still see him looking approvingly at every child who tries his or her best on a test. I can still see his smile in every child who wears the uniform with pride. He is still with us and wants us to have a wonderful life knowing that he is always here to help us.

A few months ago, I did some research on a few jazz charts. There was a line from the tune that was written by a tenor saxophonist named Benny Golson. It was a song written as a tribute to the late jazz trumpeter named Clifford Brown. The song is called, “I Remember Clifford.” The line says, “So, how can we say someone so real has really gone away?” Every time I see a happy child, I can see him. Every time I come here to work, I can still see him. His body may have worn out, but his exuberant spirit and his life live on.

I know that he is very happy right now. He left his mark on God’s good Earth. He influenced every one of us here. That is why we were able to honor him today. He influenced people who knew him and couldn’t be here. In their own way, they are honoring him, too. He touched more hearts than a retired cardiologist. Right now, he is making reservations in Heaven for us to join him there. All we have to do is to try and follow his example.

Yes, we had a wonderful life.