It was an ordinary day. Sitting in my lounge chair watching TV when my wife asked if I saw that Mr. Hower had died. WHAT! I normally get up earlier than her and feed the cats before heading out for the morning newspaper. Well, this morning it was snowing and the driveway looked icy, so I passed on getting the paper until later in the day. So, when Carol came down and opened her phone and began looking at Facebook, she saw the news before I did. Took me about two minutes to get to the end of the driveway to get my morning paper and head back into the house to open to the obituary page. Sure enough, there was a photograph of Mr. C. Wendell Hower staring at me from the top of the page. Tough to describe my feelings as I read the story of his life. I have known Mr. Hower, known as Wendell to many, for many years, but I never felt right calling him anything but Mr. Hower. When I first began high school in September of 1958, I had Mr. Hower as a teacher in one of my study halls. He was a math teacher, but I never had him for any of my math classes, but to me this big guy with the menacing look on his face and hugh stature was never anything but Mr. Hower.
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Mr. C. Wendell Hower from my 1962 HS Yearbook |
When I returned to teach at my alma mater in 1967, there was Mr. Hower, ready to shake my hand and welcome me back. Still, he was Mr. Hower to me! He eventually became the High School Principal so how could I ever call him anything but Mr. Hower? Since I did most of the in-house printing for the school on the presses that I used to teach my classes in Graphic Arts, I got to know Mr. Hower in a different light. We were more than just teacher and principal. We talked more often and had meetings to discuss what he needed in the office as printed material. Then one day I got a call to his office. A few minutes later I was sitting in front of him when his face took on a different look. "Do you know how much trouble you gave my secretaries when you pulled that stunt with your requisition for supplies for next year?" he asked. I could feel the blood drain from my face as he continued with..."Ordering fuel oil delivered to your home as part of your requisition wasn't funny. It took extra time to redo your requisition and my secretaries are too busy for that nonsense. You owe me something for that. I'll think about it and let you know what it will be" he said as I quietly walked out of his office after offering my apology and telling him it was nothing more than a joke. A few weeks later he called me into his office once again and said, "Congratulations, you are the new High School Rifle Coach." I replied, "But, Mr. Hower, I know noting about coaching rifle. I never even fired a rifle in my life!" He replied, "Well you're the new rifle coach so you better get busy on the rifle range." I must admit I enjoyed the coaching job and even coached the team to the State Championship four years later before having to give up the job due to hearing loss. So much for never firing a rifle! The longer Mr. Hower and I knew each other, the better we enjoyed working together. He was the secretary for the PIAA (the state athletic association) and he would often ask if I could help with a few of their printing needs. He always paid me extra for that work. He finally retired from Manheim Township a few years before I retired from teaching. He eventually moved to a retirement community a few years ago and called and invited my wife and I to visit him and his wife. We enjoyed our tour of their home and the conversation and I also brought along all the printing jobs he had me do for the PIAA that year. You see...he was still part of the PIAA organization. I just knew he had to do something to stay busy. Two years ago I made my final delivery to his house, telling him I was also retiring from all my duties at Manheim Township. He had a slight smile on his face when he said, "I can understand. Starting to get to you after all these years, isn't it?" I smiled as I replied, "Yes, It's more like a job than it used to be!" He looked me in the eyes and said, "Well, if you can't do my printing anymore than I'm going to give up the PIAA also." And, he did! I still made visits every so often to see him, but haven't been a regular visitor since COVID arrived. And, when Carol told me that he had died, I was stunned. Yeah, I know we all have to go sometime or another, but I never thought Mr. Hower would die. How could he. He was indestructible! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.
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