11/10/12 -- R.I.P. Dad

Chuck Hileman, my father, died on November 10, 2012.  He was 85.

There are a lot of things I could write about my Dad.  I could write about his military service in both World War II and Korea.  I could write about the three degrees he earned from his beloved University of Virginia.  I could write about his long and distinguished career as an educator and counselor to countless young people.  I could write about the aspects of his character that made him special –- his compassion, his gentleness, his faith, his humility, his love of family, his sense of fairness.

Instead, I want to share one memory of my Dad, because it says a lot about what a down-to-earth man he was, and how he could find joy in the simplest things.  It’s perhaps my best memory of him, and like many good memories it didn’t seem like much of a big deal at the time.  I was 7 years old.  It was late summer; school hadn’t started yet, but the mornings were cool and you knew that fall was just around the corner.  One morning, before the sun was even up, Dad came into my room, woke me and said, “Let’s go fishing.”  I’m sure I was a little bleary-eyed, but I said “sure,” and off we went to his favorite spot on the river.  It was clear but chilly that morning, so Dad made a little fire on the bank so we could warm our hands as we fished.  There was mist on the water, and I remember the sun coming up over the mountain on the far side of the river and the light shining through the mist and reflecting off the water.  And I remember Dad looking around, smiling, and saying how beautiful it all was.  In the 49 years that have passed since that day, I don’t think I ever saw him happier.

So that’s where I leave him, and that’s how I’ll remember him.  Not made frail by time and illness, but young and strong, on the riverbank next to the fire, with the sun shining, doing one of his favorite things in one of his favorite places.

Rest in Peace, Dad.