Death and Disappointment

My brother died yesterday morning. He had a stroke early in the week and slipped away over a period of four days without fully regaining consciousness.

He died in Florida, where he and his wife, Sue, have spent their winters over the past few decades. He was nearly five years older than I -- an age gap that separated us in school and home life. In fact, it's not too much to say I hardly knew him. Yet there are many good things I do know about him.

I'd like to share some of those good things in this posting.

Dick was extremely bright, a quick learner of all things practical. But he didn't like school. He graduated from high school in 1948 and joined the marines. Ironically, his entry tests were so impressive that he wound up spending nearly all of his three-years in various service technical schools. He once told me that his best judgment was that attending school was interesting, and much less difficult than he thought Korea might have proven to be.

Evidence is, he was a good student and a good marine. He served his three years and made staff-sergeant. When he mustered out, he didn't make use of the GI Bill to attend college -- which was too bad, because he could have done well in any area he wished to study.

What he did was go into our father's successful building business in Chicagoland. During the fifties, Dick and Dad were busy and successful building large business buildings, schools, and school additions. It was during that period I worked with my Dad and Dick during two summers when I was not teaching.

Dick superintended jobs for Dad's firm. I learned that Dick knew and practiced all the crafts with consummate skill. He was a master carpenter and a fine electrician, a good pipe-fitter and mason. He could lay out and pour concrete with the best.

All those skills made him a really good job superintendent. I often worked with him on small, pick-up, finish tasks on jobs nearing completion. He was especially good at tying up the odds and ends of jobs. That is, sometimes sub-contractors' work did not exactly meet specifications. I mean sometimes the work did not "join" exactly. For instance, a block wall might drift an inch or two off plan -- perhaps the wall, the radiation and window plans, and the ceiling did not join precisely, for instance. Dick could knit all those "loose" pieces together so that things appeared exactly "on plan" and functioned soundly and safely.

Dick was by nature a "fixer." He was clever and creative, the sort of workman who proved invaluable on any job -- especially on a job where some other journeyman had not done things right. Dick could straighten-out any mess. . .make it look good and work well.

I learned much of what I know about design and building by working with him. And those skills served me nicely over the years Nancy and I spent renovating and upgrading our old home on the river. Even today I like to design and build things on our land -- barns and decks, raised beds and bridges are challenges I've enjoyed. Most men learn such things from their fathers. I acquired most of my skills with tools from my brother.

I consider those skills a rich gift Dick gave me.

Dick eventually started a small maintenance and building business in Lombard, Illinois. With a sort of studied simplicity, he incorporated the business as "Dick's Fix-it." That was more than just quaint language. What his wealthy, commuting, well-healed clientele soon learned was that if something in their large homes didn't work, Dick could fix it. He would do any job for his clients -- from replacing light-bulbs to on-the-spot appliance repair.

Dick also worked with his clientele to design and construct new kitchens and baths, or entire additions. He was an inveterate learner, too. He was the sort of person who could work two weeks with an air-conditioning contractor, for instance, and acquire the necessary skills to serve his growing clientele's heating, air-conditioning, and heating needs. He was just bright, a quick learner, an expert doer.

I use the word clientele specifically, because that's the sort of relationship Dick built over time with the people he served. They became his clients. His business always grew. You renovate a kitchen for someone who is pleased, and many of that client's friends begin to rely upon your expertise, as well.

That's why Dick's son, Zack, came to work with Dick. The work was there, and Zack had his father's easy-quick expertise with so-called mechanical things. So when Zack finished his bachelor's degree, he chose to join Dick in the business. They became a good team.

Another thing I admired about Dick was his marriage. His wife Sue would fight a tiger if it dared to attack Dick. And she'd win, too. Dick and Sue were best friends, a committed team. In that way, Dick and Sue were like Nancy and me. That committed relationship tells me many good things about my brother and his wife.

Believe me: I know well how much Sue and Zack will miss Dick.

I find myself wishing I had known my brother better. My life has been school and books. Dick's has been building and maintenance, hand-tools and practical service to his clients.

We lived apart and rarely saw each other. Over the years we lost touch. I'm sorry I didn't know him better.

In the end, he was the
brother I hardly knew,
but regarded with respect.

In Memoriam:
Richard Westphal Meadows
January 1, 1930 -- March 12, 2010