If you know me well you know I am very stubborn when I have my mind made up. In fact, changing my opinion is often an excruciatingly painful experience for those charged with the task. However there are a few people in my life who can affect that change without too much of a fight and two who could change it just by the suggestion. The few who have had a minimal challenge are my sister, my former fraternity chapter advisor Jim Acheson, my step mother June and the managing broker at our real estate firm.. The two who changed my mind by suggesting or just telling me to change it were my dad and Jill Acheson. A few years ago my father was taken by cancer. And today, Jill Acheson is gone as well, taken by the same cruel disease.
Mrs. "Ache" was a remarkable woman who with simple grace and hospitality changed the lives of nearly everyone she crossed paths with. She never stood at a podium and swayed large audiences to see things her way. She wasn't the type to sermonize in public. Jill held all of her debates in one of two places, her living room or her dining room table. She was the master of "divide and conquer." Because to hear her explain the answers to life's most challenging questions would result in a sometimes radical change in your own life's learnings.
We met first at her home. Her oldest son Bill was my pledge brother in the Phi Kappa Psi chapter at the University of Illinois. Bill would invite guests to his house nearly every Sunday for dinner. And those guests were most often his Phi Psi brothers. Each of us were treated to the finest of meals, always a meat and potato preparation far exceeding the best meal any of us had been served in fine restaurants. And accepting this invitation meant were were brought into the circle Mrs. Ache so carefully maintained.
She was a grand and glorious woman of Phi Kappa Psi. Again not because she came to the house and lectured, but because her family was and is a Phi Psi family. Husband Jim initiated into the chapter in the 1950's. In his life he served on the house corporation and as chapter advisor. Even today "Ache" is serving on the capital campaign to renovate the chapter house to the tune of $3.5 million. He is and always will be a loyal member of the fraternity.
Her two sons, Bill and Steve, pledged and initiated into the chapter. Daughter Suzanne was a "little sister, pledge mom and Phi Psi advocate when she was in school. Her second daughter, Amy, sat at the dinner table and listened to Mrs. Ache question us all her entire life. By the time she was in her teens "Ames" was a fraternity expert, just in what she had absorbed at the table. And now her grandson Adam is an undergraduate member of the chapter. For over 60 years Jill Acheson has been loyal to our chapter. But it's her loyalty to me I want to talk about today.
I lost my mother when I was 12. While my dad remarried a wonderful woman, she wasn't able to break through my barriers to consul me in a maternal nature. In meeting Mrs. Ache I found someone who would have a profound influence on the rest of my life. You see she wouldn't accept your opinion at face value. Mrs. Ache had "Mike Wallace" like charm, pealing away your layers question after question until she exposed the core of your beliefs. And once exposed, she would pick away until she truly helped you restructure those opinions.
She was fascinated by fraternity culture as well as leadership development challenges. Twenty years ago I replaced her son Bill as chapter advisor who had replaced his dad who held that position before. In fact Jim was chapter advisor when I was an undergraduate officer. And as if the torch had been passed to me from her family she insisted I update her regularly in all of those years. As recently as last year I sat a few hours in her living room and provided details about the chapter as it is today. I would discuss problems I was having, challenges I faced with the undergrads and goals for fixing the problems. I have truly been more accountable to her for the chapter's future than to the university or any alum.
Interestingly enough as her husband Jim and I were in the early stages of planning the current capital campaign he insisted I meet with "Jillsy" before he could commit a pledge from his family. She was the matriarch of all things Phi Psi in the Acheson family.
But for me at least, while the fraternity was a part of all of our conversations, it was hardly the substance of our friendship and love. You see, Mrs. Ache and I shared something even deeper. We both love a well written story. Whether it was books, theater or movies, we talked at length about great stories. I have read over 50 books in my life she suggested. She introduced me to James Michener, John Grisham, Nelson DeMille and Ken Follett as if she knew them personally. In her house on Clark St, "The Garage Mahal" so named because of an addition they built in a 100 year old plus home equal in size to the original house, she had a vast library with 100's of books. At a dinner she might hand me one for the month and then once completed we would discuss plots and characters and the paintings these authors had crafted on their canvasses word by word. She loved to read and she loved to share the experiences she had.
This summer I'm producing Les Miserables. I first saw this show over 20 years ago when Mrs. Ache and I saw it at the Assembly Hall. I have seen the show over 30 times since then, most recently on the big screen. And this summer I will experience the show again live on stage with the Champaign Urbana Theater Company. Needless to say it's my favorite theatrical story. Thank you Mrs. Ache for opening my eyes to great theater.
There have been many a time I have met with her privately. She knew I was a dreamer and I shared many a dream with her. Sometimes they were about troubled kids who needed a hand to make a difference. Sometimes it was about changing the course of the fraternity or of my life. She walked through every condo I looked at before I bought it, careful to tell me "this one isn't right for you." We talked about job changes and supervisors and relationships and life. We talked about politics often, one of her favorite topics as long as you were a conservative, and we talked about me. And more than once she took out her check book, writing me a check so that I might help someone else reach their dream. She knew I was committed to helping others and this was her way to play a part in it. And each time she would say, don't tell them this is from me, and "don't tell Ache."
She loved her family more than anything. She protected her children like a mother lion might protect her cubs. She lost a son, Steve, at age 18 in a tragic accident. Mrs. Ache never fully recovered from it, a piece of her heart was taken when Steve died. But life moved on, and as it did, she had grandchildren to take the place of what she lost. When we met she would tell me about every one. She loved each one of them the most and everyone equally. Grandmothers can do that somehow.
And while Mrs. Ache wasn't my real mother, she was as much of a mother as I could ever have hoped to have in my life. I got to say goodbye to her before she passed into heavens gates. And I got to thank her for what she meant to me and just let her know how much I loved her.I'm thankful for that. I know she is happy to be reunited with Steve and I know that heaven is a better place to be just because she is there. I'm certain she has a living room or a dining room and in it she is calling in each of God's angels one by one and questioning just why they might believe what they believe.
So this summer I will think of her every single day as we are preparing Les Miserables. The last line in the show is given by Jean Valjean who sings, "to love another person is to see the face of God." Because in her, and through her charm and wit and grace I have seen God's face, each and every time I looked into her eyes. Thank you Mrs. Ache.
