His name was Larry.  Of course, I never addressed him by his first name.  When I was a kid in elementary school, he was Mr. Tarver.  He and my father were both executives with what was then J.I. Case Corporation in Racine, Wisconsin.

My parents ran around with the Tarver’s.  Keep in mind this is the late ‘60’s and early ‘70’s.  Running around meant enjoying a shared meal in each other’s homes. I am sure they also went to actual restaurants for meals, and the kids were invited to stay home. Kerry and Kim were stuck watching me.  I have distinct memories of going to the Tarver home and hanging out in their finished basement. As I recall, it had the ‘70’s paneling that all such basements were adorned with back in the day.  There were bowling excursions at the bowling alley in Shorecrest Shopping Center that is now long gone.  

Mr. Tarver was special to me for several reasons.  I was just a little kid, but he treated me like a real human being.  Fifty years later I still remember.  And I feel certain he shaped the way I treat children as an adult today.

 My father passed away very unexpectedly in 1978.  Mr. Tarver was kind to my mother during that time.   You simply do not forget such things.  He set an example that I hope I am following ever so carefully today.

In the spring of 1980, I finally finished the requirements to become an Eagle Scout.  By that time, I had a car.  I was a senior in high school and most disinterested in scouting.  But my scoutmaster refused to let me off the hook. He pushed me to finish that pursuit.  My mother asked Mr. Tarver to compose a letter of recommendation for me. He did. It was a wonderful letter.  And it came at a time when I was a confused and fatherless kid.  You never forget the people who invest you in at such crucial moments. 

Larry Tarver passed away today.  He lived a long and full life. I regret that I never had the opportunity to thank him in my adult years. But if that privilege had arisen, I know one thing for certain: I would not have addressed him as Larry!  Thank you, Mr. Tarver.  It takes a village, and I am thankful you were a part of mine.