Randy Clark was a giant to me as a boy. And I'm not being figurative. I mean he was huge. I was maybe 5'5" and maybe 100lbs, at most, back then.
He was the varsity basketball coach and the middle school principal. And if he wanted to be, he could be scary (he was the principal after all...he gave me my first lecture on sexual harrassment in seventh grade), but for the most part he was gregarious. He was my classmate Eric's dad too.
I didn't know him as Randy, of course. I was a 12 and 13 year old when I was in middle school. I didn't know him as Mr. Clark. He was Coach Clark. That was that.
I remember various things about Coach Clark. There was that lecture (and all that was my classmate Paul's fault. After I'd been in the vicinity after Paul had dropped his pen and told the girl whose desk it dropped under to "spread your legs so I can get that" which got us a finger wag, we were in the lunch line and a different girl cut us. Paul told her "get to the back of the line, hoe." She asked what he called her and I said "a garden tool." wockawockawocka). He taught me social studies in 7th or 8th grade and I remember when he took my text book from me at the end of the year to show the class that it needed to be clean with no markings and, out of the 500 page book, he happened to open it to the page where I'd scribbled cusswords earlier in the year.
Oof.
Then, at the end of the school year in 8th grade, my family life went to hell in a handbasket. Lawyers were involved; custody was contested. I literally didn't have a place to stay.
And Randy Clark (and his wife Ellen) stepped up and took me in. Yes, I was his son's classmate and he was the principal, but Eric and I hadn't been super close and...just...and. That was a big, damn deal. The Clarks didn't have to bring me in and they did.
I stayed with the Clarks for the last three weeks of the school year. The legal whathaveyou resulted in me moving away for high school. I happened to run into some of my former classmates and Coach Clark in Hilton Head a couple of years later at some academic something or other. Other than that, life has gone on: high school, college, the army, law school, whatever this period is. I ran into Eric five or six years ago in Columbia. We both looked much different (7 inches and another hundred pounds will do that). We made small talk. That was that.
I ran into Eric again last night. I asked him how he was doing. He told me Coach was in the ICU. A group of faces I haven't seen in twenty years appeared to comfort and support Eric. There were many faces I didn't recognize. But I had no doubt they were men and women that Coach Clark had an impact on. It wasn't my place to insinuate myself into their congregation so I left them be.
I let my mind wander to that time he and his wife showed me extraordinary kindness. As a 13 year old going through a crappy time, I appreciated it. As a 34 year old, I am awed and indebted to them.
Today, I learned that he has passed.
I am being figurative: Randy Clark is a Giant.
He was the varsity basketball coach and the middle school principal. And if he wanted to be, he could be scary (he was the principal after all...he gave me my first lecture on sexual harrassment in seventh grade), but for the most part he was gregarious. He was my classmate Eric's dad too.
I didn't know him as Randy, of course. I was a 12 and 13 year old when I was in middle school. I didn't know him as Mr. Clark. He was Coach Clark. That was that.
I remember various things about Coach Clark. There was that lecture (and all that was my classmate Paul's fault. After I'd been in the vicinity after Paul had dropped his pen and told the girl whose desk it dropped under to "spread your legs so I can get that" which got us a finger wag, we were in the lunch line and a different girl cut us. Paul told her "get to the back of the line, hoe." She asked what he called her and I said "a garden tool." wockawockawocka). He taught me social studies in 7th or 8th grade and I remember when he took my text book from me at the end of the year to show the class that it needed to be clean with no markings and, out of the 500 page book, he happened to open it to the page where I'd scribbled cusswords earlier in the year.
Oof.
Then, at the end of the school year in 8th grade, my family life went to hell in a handbasket. Lawyers were involved; custody was contested. I literally didn't have a place to stay.
And Randy Clark (and his wife Ellen) stepped up and took me in. Yes, I was his son's classmate and he was the principal, but Eric and I hadn't been super close and...just...and. That was a big, damn deal. The Clarks didn't have to bring me in and they did.
I stayed with the Clarks for the last three weeks of the school year. The legal whathaveyou resulted in me moving away for high school. I happened to run into some of my former classmates and Coach Clark in Hilton Head a couple of years later at some academic something or other. Other than that, life has gone on: high school, college, the army, law school, whatever this period is. I ran into Eric five or six years ago in Columbia. We both looked much different (7 inches and another hundred pounds will do that). We made small talk. That was that.
I ran into Eric again last night. I asked him how he was doing. He told me Coach was in the ICU. A group of faces I haven't seen in twenty years appeared to comfort and support Eric. There were many faces I didn't recognize. But I had no doubt they were men and women that Coach Clark had an impact on. It wasn't my place to insinuate myself into their congregation so I left them be.
I let my mind wander to that time he and his wife showed me extraordinary kindness. As a 13 year old going through a crappy time, I appreciated it. As a 34 year old, I am awed and indebted to them.
Today, I learned that he has passed.
I am being figurative: Randy Clark is a Giant.
2 comments:
I don't know who you are but thank you for sharing this - It does not surprise me that he took you in.
Well done, Andre. And yes... a "Giant." Hope to see you this week.
- Ryan
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