My Friend, my brother, my mentor – Jim Acheson
As I get older, I’m reminded of the extremely important
people who have helped to shape my life. All of us must face dealing with the
loss of parents and often the loss of siblings which are expected; however it
is still hard to move forward when the news comes. What's more unexpected is
dealing with the loss of people outside of my family who have played an
important role in my life. My mentors and friends.
This week one of the most important mentors in my life left
us. He has been one of the people who has been able to set me straight when I
was off track, suggest changes that I needed to make in my plans, and keep me
passionate about the things that we both loved. Jim Acheson was as close to
being a father as anyone in my life except of course my biological father. I
have known him, laughed with him, listened to him, and admired him for almost 50
years.
I first met Jim when I was a pledge in the Phi Kappa Psi fraternity.
In addition to being the chapter advisor for our local chapter, Jim was the
father of one of my pledge brothers and one of my closest friends, Bill. Bill was famous for inviting his pledge
brothers to his home in Champaign on Sunday nights. These invitations there were
as precious as being invited to the Oval Office in the White House. We could
always count on it an incredible steak and potato meal cooked by his amazing
mother and would look forward to the lectures you would get from Brother Jim. We would
talk about his pledge class in 1953 featuring none other than Johnny Red Kerr
from the Chicago Bulls. Jim would always talk about how the class started out with
45 members and only 25 or so were initiated. He would weave stories about how
his pledge “boss” treated the undergrads. However, in all that time he never
talked about crazy parties or hazing or anything else that probably was going
on in that generation.
He would also talk about the chapter history, life in the
fraternity in the 60s and early 70s, and the people who helped to shape the
chapter that I joined. Of course, we talked about more than fraternity. Jim
taught me how to vote the first time I was eligible. He said to go into the
voting booth and just pull the lever that said “R” on it. Jim was the captain of the republican precinct
so anything he could do to get us the vote for his candidates he would do.
Hardly an evening went by when we weren't treated to Ray
Stevens, especially playing “the streak”.
No one ever questioned that Stevens wasn’t the greatest artist that ever
walked the earth. Even Elvis or The
Beatles or The Rolling Stones could never stack up to Ray Stevens’ talent in Jim's mind.
In addition to Ray Stevens, Jim loved Fox News, the Golf
Channel, a glass of red wine, steak and potatoes, Pia's fish sandwiches, walking
around Westside Park, Tuesday night buffets at the Club, Safety meetings, the
University of Illinois, his dogs, BLSAOET, Iced Tea, Almond Joy and Mounds candy bars (by
the way something that I also love), the Action Auction, Harold Hill and Music
Man, growing up on University Ave, all things military, London, concrete, and volunteering at PGA tournaments, just to name
a few.
When I was an undergraduate member of the chapter Jim would often
stop by and invite me for a beer at the Illini Inn a few doors down from the
house. He would pick my brain, his way of getting updates of how the chapter
was doing. I walked home from these sessions with a little more confidence and
a little more optimism that we had a chance to be a great Fraternity.
After I graduated from college I moved first to Detroit. Jim and his wife would invite me to come and visit and stay for dinner whether
it was a holiday or just another Sunday night. It was shortly after I moved to
Detroit that their youngest son Steve was killed in an auto accident. I helped
in putting together some of the arrangements and through that experience I grew
even closer to the family. A few years later I had the opportunity to move back
to Champaign and I did. Eventually I took over as chapter advisor stepping into
these huge shoes that Jim had left. For over 35 years I remained chapter
advisor. It was a regular occurrence for him to invite me over or invite me out
to lunch so that he could be updated on the “doings” at 911 S. Fourth.
I would update him and in his own way he would guide me back
to reality. He reminded me that I tended to look at our fraternity through rose
colored glasses. That advice alone helped to keep me stay grounded as it
related to the undergraduates. Jim said regularly that “I was very good at
doing things that you don't get paid for”.
No one ever summarized my life better than that. But he continued to be
my life coach and mentor for all these years.
20 years ago, he convinced me that I needed to join his
Rotary Club, which he cared very deeply about. In just a few years he guided me
into an executive role as secretary for the club which I still hold today. Jim
would show up at every meeting and collect the money for lunch and pay the
venue where we were having that lunch. He rarely stayed longer than through the first 15 minutes of the meeting, always sneaking a dessert or two from the serving
table.
Eventually Jim couldn’t make it to the weekly meetings but
again he would call me to get together for lunch so that he could be updated on
what plans the club had. During this last year he didn't get out nearly as much as he
was able to earlier, I had the absolute joy of stopping by every Monday
afternoon with two other friends for “Jeopardy” hour. I could tell that he was
frustrated by his lack of mobility. After all this is a man who took pride in
running the Boston Marathon. He was a regular at the second wind running club
in Champaign when he was younger and loved to run. I can remember I would bring
my brother down for a weekend, who was also a runner. Jim would tell me
to tell him to meet him at the corner out in front of my house and join the
runners on a Saturday morning usually at about 6:00 AM. My brother to this day
cherishes those mornings.
Jim would often tell friends when we were gathered that I
was a member of his family. I was so honored that he would consider me to be
part of his life. He was the father, grandfather and great grandfather of a
remarkable family. And he loved his family. Until the day that he passed he
kept a picture of Jill his wife on the coffee table in his living room. There
is a long table in the living room with photos of all his family members. He
would talk at length about Amy and Suzanne and Bill and his late son Steve and of
course his grandchildren. He knew that he was loved by all. When Jim said I was a part of the family I
was honored. But…our standard joke was, “Does this mean I'm in the will?” He would quickly respond, “Well you're like
family but you're not actually family” and we would have a good laugh.
So, as I've been thinking about when this moment would
happen for the last few months, I've been asking myself what can I do to show my
love and respect for Jim Acheson? So, I
came up with two answers. #1 - pay it forward. I've been fortunate to mentor
many, many undergraduates and young men and women in my life. If I can just be
half as influential in their lives as Jim has been in mine, I know I will have
made a difference. #2 once in a while play a little Ray Stevens.
I'll miss you brother. By now you found the great answer to
the most important question in your life. “are there any Republicans in heaven?”...
