TRIBUTE TO DAD
JULY 12, 2024
Greetings – one and all. Life is a circle, and here we are at a rendezvous point called Hampton Methodist Church. For many of us, it’s a homecoming of sorts as we grew up around here. Each one of you is here because at some point in your life you had the distinct honor of shaking the hand of Wayne I. Elliot. and when he shook it, and you weren’t doing it the right way, he made it a point to look you in the eyes, and in a commanding voice tell you, not ask you, but tell you to squeeze it harder. You may not have known it at the time, but that handshake and that eye contact were two all-important life skills he was imparting.
He would be curious to know today just how many of you were students of his. So, if you were, please proudly raise your hand. Put your hand up if you were a parent of one of his students. Raise your hand if you traveled here from out of state. Raise a hand if you had to fly to make it here for today. Put a hand up if you were connected with him through the church or the masons. Raise your hand so he can see how many of you are a member of his family and or the generations he and mom created. Finally, stand up if Wayne I. Elliot made a positive difference in your life or the lives of your children or grandchildren. We are so blessed, but to him you were the ones that blessed him.
The one thing about Wayne I. Elliot is that he was always teaching. Not just his classes of English and Literature, but about life. and when he did finally release your hand after shaking it, you walked away feeling like this man had just sent you a jolt of kindred spirit. It was the connection from that moment in time that left each of us with this kind of sacred feeling. He made you feel like you were the, “the most” important person in the world. That you were the only thing that mattered. and because he made you feel like that, you wanted to come back for more. You felt loved, wanted, needed. And if that wasn’t enough, he would tell you, in his often hard to read cursive writing at the top of your paper, or project, or speech, that it was ”awesome”, “fantastic”, “amazing” – all punctuated with exclamation points in red ink. Another life lesson – he cared about you – the person.
If you sent him a thank you note or a one-page letter, you would have a two-page letter in your mailbox a week later telling you how much of a difference you were making in the lives of those around you. That you were going to be the greatest at whatever profession you chose.
He taught us all that manners matter, that please, thank you, and your welcome were your free tickets to a life of success. His teachings have traveled around the country and the world, literally.
We watched in amazement as he took his high school and college baseball glove and showed us how to play pickle, and pepper, and demonstrated such passion in his teaching and coaching that we learned to love the game – for a lifetime. And when we lost, he found a way to turn losing into winning moments. If you were the weakest player on the team, he was determined to make the team believe that the team couldn’t win without you. If you couldn’t run, or hit, or field, he turned you into a first or third base coach, or a team manager, or a scorekeeper. And he once again shared another lesson – that it doesn’t matter how good you are, but that you always do your best at whatever you do. Do your best. If you came up short, it was that you tried your hardest.
Wayne I. Elliot was a simple man who loved life. He could be quoted many times as saying that the biggest problem with the world around us was there was never enough love and the reason, we had wars going on or countries feuding is that people didn’t know how to communicate. Perhaps that’s why he started the infamous North Hampton Elementary School Oratorical Contest. More life lessons – how to write, how to stand in front of people and speak, how to overcome fear. How to be proud or humbled. Imagine every student in every one of his classes, with no exceptions, presenting his or her own speech in front of the entire class, then perhaps in front of the entire school, and then the community, in an annual contest – for 50 years!
if you listen close enough, shhhh, you can hear him coming down the hallway right now, his countless keys to every room and closet in the entire school banging and jangling against each other on his belt clip. They moved as he moved, hurried. There was never a moment to waste. Time was always fleeting for Wayne I. Elliot.
When he wasn’t in school, he was busy typing on his typewriter just as fast with his patented two-finger typing skills on carbon copy paper that eventually made its way to a hand-cranked mimeograph machine with that distinct ink smell the next day and then to his students’ desks. The chosen one was physically stashed away in our scrapbooks for safekeeping because of course, they were from Wayne I. Elliot.
At home, meals and grace were not only rituals, but a time to strengthen family bonds. The calls on the telephone landline next to the dining room table often broke those moments because dad was now needed as a guide for tid bit basketball, scheduling for little league, or as a mentor for boy scouts. Dad only made it to life scout, one rank short of the highest achievement in boy scouts, Eagle, because he said no one stepped up to volunteer and therefore his troop disbanded. He carried that feeling of separation throughout his life and promised himself that it would never happen again to his own kids or to those in the community.
He believed in scouting and all that it offered – the motto of “be prepared”, the oath of… On my honor, I will do my best, to do my duty to God and country, and to obey the scout law; to help other people at all times, to keep myself physically fit, mentally strong, and morally straight. And the 12 points of the scout law – trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. He was such a believer of these life skills that he often quoted them in his classes, here in church, and in the community.
Years ago, only one of every 100 scouts ever made Eagle Scout. He made sure his two boys wouldn’t experience what he went through and both sons made Eagle Scout and then both achieved scouting’s other most distinguished honor – the God and Country award. Dad made good on that promise he made to himself because he played a major role in many of the 42 Eagles Scouts that are now part of Troop 162’s decorated history.
It was always about educating, mentoring, and guiding beyond the written word. He believed in fostering empathy and emotional intelligence in each of us so that we could lead a fulfilling life.
The definition of a legacy is the positive impact your life has had on other people – friends, colleagues, and even strangers. Wayne I. Elliot left more than this. He was truly a living legend.
I leave you today with one final story. Some of you may know that I teach Family and Consumer Sciences in a Manchester Middle School. How ironic is it that I teach life skills. One day this past semester, I was approached before the start of class by a paraprofessional. She was a former CEO of a large company and now worked one on one with an autistic student. Neither para nor student ever missed any of my classes. She cornered me in my classroom so she would have my undivided attention. And this is what she said. Mr. Elliot, did you know that you are the only teacher in this school to line your students up outside your classroom door every day? She paused. And are you aware that your students wait patiently for you to walk out your door to greet them? She hesitated again, as if she was a messenger from the heavens. She continued, and if you don’t come through that door and you send another student out to tell the rest of your students to come into the classroom that your students feel like they have missed out on the most important part of their day? I leaned in a little closer to try and fully grasp the meaning of her message that she had obviously been holding in for all too long. She quietly continued. You see, you acknowledge every student, every single day with a fist pump, a high five, a question of how your weekend was, or a comment that a haircut looks great. You take the time to look every student in their eyes, and if they walk by you without looking at you in your eyes, you stop them to make sure they notice. No other teacher in the school shares that compassion one on one, that caring, that love. They look forward to that moment of you recognizing them like no one else does. If they don’t have the opportunity to embrace that moment with you, their day is not complete. They wait – for you – every day – to acknowledge them. I have watched your students’ interactions with other teachers and it’s not the same. You are the one that takes the time. You show them you truly care. You make them feel like they are important and that one moment gives them hope for their future. Upon hearing this, I stood, speechless…
Life is a circle.
Wayne I. Elliot
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