2. anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or predecessor: the legacy of ancient Rome.
I have had a few people in my life who have died long before their time. Some of them were very close friends, while others were just people I knew on the fringes. Austin Cloyd falls into the latter category. I met Austin a few times when I was refereeing basketball. She played at Champaign Centennial High School and I remember talking to her a few times during warm ups. Nothing noteworthy was said, just a few stories.
Ironically two years later I would begin to know Austin very well. Ironic, because Austin had passed away by then, and I have come to know her after that fact. Here is what I know. Austin was devoted to community service. She loved to work on empty tomb projects, scraping shingles off the roof, and loved working on Appalachian Service Projects. She loved her friends and especially loved her family.
Mostly I have come to appreciate that Austin Cloyd was a "typical" teenager. With friends and neighbors and church commitments and an interest in helping other people.
This past weekend we held the 5th Austin's Day of service. Five years ago, about a week after the tragedy at Virgina Tech, Jordan Branham, then a junior at Centennial, approached me about the idea of paying tribute to Austin by serving in the community. We had talked about donating money to empty tomb, or planting a tree or the kinds of things you do when someone passes. You see Austin was in her French class in Norris Hall the day a madman chose to end the lives of 32 students. And Jordan had read about her in a Chicago Tribune article. The reporter talked about Austin's commitment to serving others. And that her dream was to foster world peace. Powerful story for sure.
Fast forward 5 years to last week. Austin's father Bryan was in Champaign for Austin's Day. Over 200 volunteers had committed to serving 12 different agencies in Austin's memory. In 5 years more than 500 people have served in Austin's name. During the day, Bryan shared a wonderful story with me. A few days after the shootings, a reporter asked him "what will Austin's legacy be?" Bryan said he went numb a bit and didn't have an answer. "How many 18 year olds have a Legacy?" "I mean Austin was a wonderful girl, she had lots of friends, was a joy to be around, but a legacy? She hadn't had time to build one." Or so he thought at the time.
After spending the day in Champaign last weekend, Bryan said, "I think this may be her legacy. Somewhere along the line she attached herself to a role model who inspired her to serve others." He said, "and by spending time with this role model, Austin was starting to grow some roots embedded in community service. And those roots have taken hold in the students at Centennial who continue to carry the vision forward with Austin's Day." I think this has given Bryan Cloyd a little closure on the pain he has held onto for all these years.
Back to the central question though. What legacy have we left? For many people their children are their legacies. Good or bad, they have brought them into the world and hope to have their values carried forward. But for those of us who don't have children, or for those of us who's children have hardly lived up to the "legacy status" it becomes more about the what we have left behind. It is an interesting question, and maybe the first question is, "is it important to leave a legacy?"
I suppose in a selfish kind of way I would like to think my time on earth mattered. I think we all hope that we make a difference in the things we do and somehow impact others along the way. I don't know if my actions have reached legacy status. There are things I started many years ago that are still around. The "Hometown Heroes" program at the U of I athletic dept is one of my babies. Certainly being a co-founder of the Phi Kappa Psi chapter at the Univ of Michigan is important. And I would guess some of the community service programs I have been involved with have seen some changes due to my input, the Urbana Sweetcorn Festival for example is significantly different than when I first got involved. But is it a legacy? I'll leave that for others to judge.
In the end, maybe I hope people will say I invested my time and talents helping others succeed. I can live with that legacy, and maybe others will look back and think they need to do the same when I'm gone.
