While reading the news on Sunday, I was struck between similarities between three unconnected things: the Hudson River, the Somali pirating incident, and a less-than-pleasant looking woman in Britain.
When Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger landed Flight 1549 gently in the Hudson River three months ago, the media quickly labeled him a hero, the savior of the passengers, and lavished him with praise. Although he certainly fits the bill, Sully himself refused to accept any credit. "I was just doing my job," he said.
This past week, Captain Richard Phillips, at the helm of the Maersk Line ship that was hijacked, gave himself up rather than let anything happen to his crew. Twice, with guns pointed at him, he dove into the water to escape, and was eventually freed. Again, he was celebrated around the country, and yet his first words were, "I'm just a small part in this. The real heroes of the story are the U.S. military.'"
In both cases, seemingly ordinary people did extraordinary things. Had there not been large media attention around these events, their selflessness would have passed on without a notice but to their family and friends.
In the midst of all this, I saw an article about Britain's Got Talent, a Simon Cowell-produced talent show in England. A 47-ear-old unemployed woman named Susan Boyle had gotten on stage to sing. Needless to say, Susan Boyle is not the most attractive woman on earth. People snickered and laughed as she stood on stage, and Simon, as is his wont, tried to get another bad performance over with.
Susan then stopped, smiled, and
began to sing I Dreamed a Dream, which YouTube tells me is from Les Miserables. She brought the house down, moved most of the audience to tears, and was told by all three judges that they have never heard better. The clip is worth watching all the way through (2:52).
These three disparate events all seemed to convey the same thing to me - the triumph of the "ordinary." Three people, who quietly went about their day like anyone else, actually contained tremendous wonder inside of them that was released when the time was right.
I had intended to restart this blog sometime last weekend with a post about this idea, thinking it would be a good way to start writing again. Unfortunately, last night I was hit with a fourth, and tragic example.
Harvey Delaney had passed away.
I met Harvey in 2002, when I got involved in the Oneonta Student Association. Of anyone in the above list, Harvey was most like Susan Boyle. He had a somewhat gruff exterior, and when I was introduced to him, I can unequivocally say that I had the composition of a frightened 6-year-old girl.
Harvey had been advising the
Student Association and
CUAC (the campus programming board) for decades. He knew everything there was to know about campus events, how SUCO was run and the best places to grab food in Oneonta (
ed. note - Ianelli's). He was a fountain of knowledge, and had been honored numerous times by
NACA for his lifetime of service.
Harvey and I eventually got to know each other fairly well, and at his urging, I ran for President. He was the one who told me I won (15 minutes late, to drive me crazy), and it was his arms I jumped into when I heard the news.
Over the next several years, I spent almost an hour a day with him. Every single time I went up to his office, students were coming in and out, getting advice from him, getting signatures for forms, and joking around. He was literally the hub for every student activity at SUNY Oneonta.
No eulogy, or blog post, or letter could ever fully capture how many people and how many lives this man impacted. He advised the two largest organizations on campus for years, yet would bark at students who wanted his opinion on clubs, politics, anything - he always wanted us to think for ourselves. He helped grow young adults through the
Leadership Institute, which is now 20+ years old. He was a tireless advocate for students. In fact, as a testament to this, after his retirement the College wanted a say in who the SA chose as its advisor, after decades of Harvey's loving wrath.
Harvey counseled me through relationships and breakups, good meetings and bad, 4 years of college and my growth as an adult. It is fitting that from Harvey's driveway, which sat on a hill, you could look out and see all of Otsego County, since he looked out for so many who lived below.
Just a few weeks ago, Harvey joined Facebook. When someone first joins, Facebook asks if you want to suggest any friends for them. Facebook obviously didn't know Harvey very well. Within minutes, his page filled up with well wishes from former student senators, CUAC members, friends, colleagues and family.
It was through Facebook that I learned of his passing. There is never a good time for someone to go, of course, but it was particularly unfortunate that Harvey would be taken when he was with the woman he loved, retired, and finally somewhere warm. It was somewhat unsettling to learn of the loss of someone close through Facebook, of all places, but this turned out to be a double edged sword. In the 24 hours since Harvey passed, hundreds of people have reached out to Mary Jo, the college, his friends, colleagues, and more.
Again, what a testament to the man that after not seeing so many of us for years, that his loss would be so profound for so many.
This is what makes Harvey a hero. He is Sully, he is Captain Phillips, he is Susan Boyle - just without CNN, without fanfare, without pirates. He is just an ordinary man that lived in a little house in a little town. This ordinary man, for far less money than we pay our bankers and our actors, touched the lives, directly or indirectly, of thousands and thousands of people. Whether it was working late to talk to someone who needed, fighting against his own interests to help students, or just taking you out for a beer to relax - he was there for you. Harvey didn't need a galvanizing event, nor did he get any fanfare, because every day that he lived his life as he did was an act of quiet heroism and selflessness.
At the aforementioned Leadership Institute, Harvey loved to bring a friend of his, Nancy Hunter Denney, to speak. She was a huge ball of energy and used to make everyone laugh. This is a photo of her and Harvey together, exactly as I remember him - slightly askew hair, surrounded by people, a genuine smile on his face.
The world lost a giant yesterday.
Harvey Delaney5/9/41-4/13/09 RIPUPDATE - HARVEY DELANEY MEMORIAL FUND
A fund has been set up in Harvey's honor by the College. Mary Jo has asked that everyone donate to this in lieu of flowers. In several weeks, she will be deciding how to use this money to best honor Harvey (scholarship, programming, etc.) In the meantime, you can donate in two ways:
ONLINE:
1) Click here:
https://secure.imodules.com/s/885/login.aspx?sid=885&gid=1&pgid=359&cid=8652) Type in your name, email, and donation amount
3) In the "Designations" boxes, type the full amount of your donation in the "Other" box
4) In the final box, type in Delaney Memorial Fund
MAIL:
SUNY Oneonta
308 Netzer Administration Building
Oneonta, NY 13820
Please make checks payable to "SUNY College at Oneonta Foundation"
On the check's memo line, write: Delaney Memorial Fund
I attempted to gag myself while listening to the Yankees' epic slaughter yesterday (ed. note: author not pictured). The only good thing to come from the game was another unintentionally hilarious headline: Historic Low for Wang. Apparently all our staff needs is Viagra (but I digress).
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