It’s not a rare occurrence.
Wabash men or their families often pause on the Alumni Terrace, pull out a camera or phone, and snap a photo of a commemorative brick.
I don’t know why this particular guy caught my eye as I walked out of Hovey Cottage. He looked vaguely familiar, but when you’ve been here 23 years, a lot of people do.
Something compelled me to ask him why he was photographing that particular brick, the one with the phrase “Sum Credo” printed on it.
“It’s my father’s,” the man said. I noticed his name—Christopher Thomas—on the name tag from the Wabash 101 orientation session. “My son, Blake, is a freshman. My father is Jim Thomas, Class of 1952.”
Ah—that’s why he looked familiar.
“I’m a friend of your dad’s,” I said, my mind racing with the fun we could have with this one—a photo of Jim with his grandson, questions for Blake about the stories he had heard about this place, asking Jim how he felt about his grandson coming to Wabash.
I knew he’d be happy, but I couldn’t wait to hear exactly how he would describe it. It had been more than 15 years since I first photographed Jim during a Big Bash dinner in Trippet Hall, when we noticed one another’s Welsh names on our name tags and began a conversation and friendship. In that time Jim had articulated his fondness for this place in the most fascinating, honest, and thoughtful ways. Most recently, when we asked readers what WM meant to them, Jim wrote this:
“The Welsh word ‘hiraeth,’ which cannot be translated. The magazine takes me back to one of the richest times of my life.”
The closest English synonym is “homesickness,” but that doesn’t get to the deeper yearning the Welsh word carries. I shared Jim’s thoughts with the magazine’s staff, and his words are taped to my wall over the computer as I write this.
Yes, this is going to be a moment to celebrate, I thought. But when I began to run those ideas by Christopher, he stopped me.
“You need to know—Dad died last week.”
And I felt sorrow hit long before any embarrassment I felt at not knowing.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. Then Christopher did a very Jim Thomas sort of thing. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “It’s okay.” He described his dad’s final days, then he told me a story.
“Dad was so pleased that Blake wa s goi ng to Wabash this fall,” he said. “Toward the end when we walked into his hospital room, he saw Blake, reached out, and made reference to the fact that now they were brothers in Wabash.”
we call this edition “Plus” because we’re focusing on the Liberal Arts Plus initiatives that give today’s students chances to put their education into practice, before they graduate, in the fields of global health, deliberation, digital media, business, and entrepreneurship. These are opportunities they need, the sort of thing I wish I’d had when I was a student.
But we’re also looking at the long-term “plusses”—the flexibility and resilience of a Wabash education that former Spanish teacher-turned-farmer Dennis Bowers ’03 calls the preparation “for what life has thrown at me from one career or life-changing decision to the next.
“Wabash is one of those places that gets into your heart and soul. It’s not just a college education; you get a family that’s there to support you and share in your life journey. Even though I’m several years out of school, I’m always welcomed back with open arms and love.”
We’re trying to get at that thing Jim Thomas described when he felt “hiraeth” while reading WM, that he personified when, in his last days, as he reached out to Blake Thomas, Class of 2022, took his grandson’s hand in his own, grinned, and said, “Hey, bro!”
Thanks for reading.
STEVE CHARLES
Editor | charless@wabash.edu