Having named our gymnasium and a scholarship fund after him, after giving Dick our Lifetime Achievement Award, and after decades of service as a Carver volunteer, donor, and board member, there is no need to recite his countless achievements. Richard Whitcomb is legendary.
This song is for you, Dick. It is “Good Job” sung by Gabi Pierre-Louis, a Carver kid whose life you blessed with your mentorship and advocacy.
In remembering and honoring Dick’s life, we celebrate life’s contradictions that he made incandescent. In contradiction and paradox, Dick had a lively way of finding and revealing the truth.
After retiring as headmaster of St Luke’s School, Dick made the Carver community one of his top commitments and almost daily destinations. Education for Dick began with the solution of the student-teacher contradiction, by reconciling the poles of the contradiction so that both are simultaneously teachers and students. If Carver were a restaurant, Dick was at once a captain and a waiter.
As opinionated as he could be, especially about Carver programs and strategies, he was just as open to considering other points of view. Contradiction did not mean defeat; it was the first step toward progress.
Dick was successful by any measure, but he insisted that his achievements were never his own; he was indebted to many benefactors and kindnesses along the way. He shared his teaching philosophy and methodologies with us when he began to work on his book at Carver. His message could be summed up by this: no child was beyond reaching, igniting, launching. Grades were of less importance than the intrinsic value of each kid. He would say that he saw himself as a Carver kid.
Even attempting to write that book was partly a contradiction in terms. Dick’s strengths as a teacher, coach, headmaster, and Carver board member were expressed spontaneously. It was always in the moment that he transformed lives and organizations. That’s that inner light of love; not something you pick up in a book.
He gave mighty financial gifts to Carver, but what he gave of himself is what lives on in us. He showed us that everyone does indeed die, but not everyone lives. He showed us how to live.
To serve, for him, was not a duty but a privilege. He received boundless joy in changing the trajectory of the lives of our youth. He did not merely act on requests for help. He passionately sought out ways to give to Carver and sought out the kids who most needed his trust and assistance. The more he gave, the more grateful and animated he became. Life’s blessed contradictions.
If you’re lucky, you know someone like Dick Whitcomb who radiates that inner light. You often catch them looking after other people and as they do so their laugh is musical. They are not thinking about what wonderful work they are doing. They are not thinking about themselves at all.
Dick was that person. When he burst into our community center with a hearty greeting to one and all while making his way to his office (our board room), his presence brightened everyone’s whole day. Not infrequently he befriended Carver kids passing in the hallway and then all bets were off as to what doors of opportunity he’d begin opening to them, including the doors to their own belief in themselves.
No matter what level of success any of us achieve, we may come to realize that we have not yet achieved Dick’s generosity of spirit, or his depth of character. As much as it was impossible not to love him, Dick’s example could also make us feel a bit uneasy.
We prepare Carver kids for college and careers. But Dick’s example reminds us that they also need moral adventures that produce his kind of goodness. In addition to the skills we want our students to learn, we also teach our youth to be kind, brave, honest, and faithful -- the qualities we all need to radiate Dick’s sort of inner light.
The more he gave of himself, the more he received because his riches were invested in those he gave himself to. His love spilled outward and upward. Dick taught us how to build community, to not only do good but be good.
Dick showed us that success is a process of commitment making. Character is defined by how deeply rooted we are and developed by the deep connections that hold us up in times of challenge and push us toward the good. Dick taught us a good life is embedded in a web of unconditional loves.
Dick was committed to tasks and dreams that can’t be completed in a single lifetime. Paraphrasing Vince Lombardi (Dick was a celebrated athlete and coach), Dick didn’t lose the game; he just ran out of time.
Dick passed away July 6 at the age of 85. His beloved wife Barbara, son Jon, and daughter Andrea were at his side when he passed. Dick is also survived by eight grandchildren – and many thousands of Carver youth, alumni, parents, and staff.
We miss you, Dick. But heaven knows your light lives on in us.
