CLISBY

         Last night I learned that Clisby had died; that he had been gone for almost five years.  I was shocked, saddened and embarrassed.  I called to wish him a 'Happy Birthday', Number 77, something that I formerly did with some regularity.  Last year, the date had slipped my mind . . . but what of the other 3 omissions ?!  I would have bet that I had called the previous year.The shock was in the realization of the rapid passing of years; saddened and embarrassed that I had failed to stay in contact with someone who had once thrown me a 'lifeline'.

     In 1982, having lost my teaching job, I became an entrepreneur . . . as a broker of college textbooks.  Through an intermediary, Clisby took note of my business volume and offered me employment as a representative of his company.  The arrangement that eventually evolved was that I would work with the company but not for them.  There were subtle nuances in the arrangement, for certain.  One such was the irregularity of cash flow. . . not exactly 'feast or famine' but somewhere close.  Going far beyond what our agreement  obligated him to do, Clisby found 'creative' ways to assist me through several financial hard spots.  Simply said, he trusted me . . . in many ways, including with large sums of money on occasion. And it was more than a business association. At least once during the brief time we worked together, I was a dinner guest in their home.

     I well remember an occasion when a house payment was due and I had to ask his assistance.  Receiving (or so it seemed to me) some words of displeasure from his boss, Clisby found a way to provide me an 'advance' of compensation.  Working with him and his organization made possible a relocation to another part of the state, a development with unforeseen future implications, notably a entirely new professional career.

    After his retirement, he and his wife moved to the South Carolina coast.  On several occasions when we vacationed in the area, I would arrange to meet Clisby for breakfast and each time again to say 'thanks'.  Last night when his wife answered my call and told me of his passing, I offered my much belated condolences and apologies.  She was very gracious.  I told her again of my gratitude for his friendship and 'saving me ' at that crucial juncture.  She called him 'a white knight'.  He certainly rescued me at a time I was in 'great distress'.  

    Now, each August 9th, I want to remember to say a prayer of appreciation for one who extended a 'helping hand' when I was struggling.

    "Thanks, Clis."
         Satchel