Alone in a Crowd

Today was Bellarmine University's annual accounting luncheon. Each year, students and alums gather to celebrate their fascination with numbers, recognize those who have accomplished much in the field, and distribute scholarships to those who have been so awarded.

Uncle Bob created an endowment a few years ago to benefit a worthy student of accounting. It's called the Robert J. Fitzpatrick Endowed Accounting Scholarship. After Uncle Bob died, Dad would go to the luncheon as an alum and brother of Bob to present the scholarship award to the student. When Dad died, we requested that expressions of sympathy be in the form of donations to the scholarship. This year, the accounting department contacted me to see if I would be interested in representing the Fitzpatricks and present the award. I was honored.

So today, I drove to Bellarmine and walked into Frazier Hall. I was surrounded by many eager young students, their faces barely free of acne, dressed up in suits and ties, trying to be grown-ups. At the other end of the spectrum, were men my dad's age, long out of college, laughing and talking with friends from their younger days. I stood there alone in the crowd. I wondered who knew Uncle Bob. Who knew Dad. Who knew that I had once belonged to them. I wanted to take off my name tag, which simply had my first and last name, and write, "I AM A FITZPATRICK!" in big, bold letters. I wanted to belong again.

It was time to sit, and as I approached my table, I spied the scholarship recipients. Michael was a handsome boy who will someday be a handsome man. Lisa was a pretty, quiet girl with dark hair and eyes. I introduced myself with smile, saying, "Hello! I'm Robert Fitzpatrick's niece. Congratulations on your scholarship!" I wanted them to know Uncle Bob, this kind and gentle man who had been such a huge part of my life. I wanted him to be more than just a name on a page. More than just some dead guy who has a scholarship in his name. So I said,

"I want you to know about my Uncle Bob. I know you know he was an accounting professor here, but did you know that he left the corporate world because he wanted to teach? He helped to establish the accounting department here at Bellarmine and make it what it is today.

"But before that, when he was a younger man, not much older than you, he took off on a bicycle and rode around the state, with a tent and a few clothes on the back of the bike, taking pictures of the people and places he went. He took a train and went to Mexico and climbed the Temple of the Sun and Popocatepetl. He took pictures there too, and I am lucky enough to be their keeper at this time.

"When WW2 started, he tried to join the army, but he couldn't pass the eye test. So he memorized the chart and made it. He was a soldier for 3 days before they caught on to the fact that he couldn't see and sent him home.

"He wanted to serve his country, so he joined the Foreign Service and was stationed in Caracas, Venezuela right about the same time that civil war broke out down there. At one point, the street fighting got so close that he and his wife took the mattress off the bed and laid in the bathtub until things died down.

He returned to Kentucky not long after that and started at Bellarmine. He loved to laugh. He always had a story. He always had a camera. He joined a hiking club and played tennis. He was in a couple of bands and played the saxophone, the accordion, the clarinet, and the piano. I always loved it when he played "Alley Cat." He was always learning and exploring. He was one of the kindest men I knew. I was blessed to call him my uncle."

With that, I stopped. I said, "I hope that you will use the money you've been awarded to further your education and then do something fun. Learn. Explore. Travel. Leave the world a better place. I know that would make Uncle Bob very happy."