This Tribute was written by Todd Michael
Uncle Jim
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All of the Michael family well remembers our great Uncle Jim. He was nothing short of awesome, a true giant of a man. We all respected him, loved him very greatly, for his keen intellect, his kindness and compassion, his success as a world class expert in finance, and his for his devotion to the Pilcher -- and Michael families.
Some of the most vivid recollections of Uncle Jim had to do with the passing of our father, Bob Michael. He passed away from a sudden and massive heart attack at age 43, while skiing at Mt. Snow Vermont on March 26th, 1966. He had been at the very top of the mountain, about 8,000 feet up, late on an otherwise sunny, happy afternoon. CPR was for over an hour, until a physician could be lifted up the mountain and finally find us on a steep and icy trail. But it was to no avail. Bob was gone.
Our great mother, Nancy was huddled in the medical shed at the bottom of the mountain waiting very anxiously to learn what had happened. This did not go well, and telling her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
At that point, everything was confusion and pain. What would we ever do? It was the darkest time for our family, and seemingly hopeless.
However…no matter how chaotic everything seemed at that point, Nancy was crystal clear on one point. She just kept saying, “I need my brother. I need Jim. Please call your Uncle Jim.” A most difficult call, Jim and Jane were deeply shocked and extremely concerned. He was a distinguished professor in Ann Arbor, Michigan, attending to many demanding business dealings. But although his responsibilities were enormous, he kept saying how the well being of his beloved little sister took precedent over everything else.
In case anyone does not know…Nancy is the youngest of the Pilchers. Jim was her big brother, and her only brother. She has expressed countless times how much she admired Jim, how Jim had always been so protective and supportive of her. How much he had taught her, what a great example he had set for her. As far as Nancy is concerned, Jim hung the moon.
We may never know what arrangements Jim had to make, what favors he had to call in, what innumerable meetings, and tasks he had to immediately drop, what kind of political capital he had to expend…but against all odds, he amazingly appeared the very next day at our home in Averill Park, New York. It would be a great understatement to say that we were glad to see him, and our wonderful Aunt Jane, who was also extremely concerned. When the two of them pulled up in the driveway, everything seemed to shift, away from hopelessness to hope. Somehow we knew were going to survive this tragedy: Uncle Jim was there.
No other person could console Nancy as well as Uncle Jim. He seemed to know exactly the right thing to say, and what to do. Without a father, we were in a state of disorder and confusion. A million details had to be resolved. But Jim immediately went to work, taking care of everything. He set about to arrange the funeral proceedings in Ft. Dodge, to help communicate with and coordinate all the relatives, even to begin attending to our financial well-being, which had been seriously compromised. We felt, all of us, that although it seemed hopeless, as long as Uncle Jim was taking care of things….we would somehow survive.
With great sensitivity, he helped us pick out clothes for Bob, make decisions about notifications, the obituary, and countless other details that were desperately needed. He seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. He was never in a hurry. He never seemed to be distracted by his own great responsibilities back at the university. Instead, he concentrated fully on Nancy’s state, and on helping us boys try to grapple with the immensity of the situation. The amount of time and energy he spent with the Michael family was amazingly generous. And the amount of love and care he demonstrated for his little sister was nothing short of monumental. It is doubtful any brother loved his sister more.
Uncle Jim could see that all three of us boys were obviously traumatized. He understood so much, at the very deepest levels, material, familial, psychological, and even spiritual. Like Grandma and Grandpa, he was very big on the spiritual component that our situation desperately required. He was not afraid of using the words “God,” and “Jesus,” or to say a prayer. His faith was deep. He knew at a deep level how much we needed support, comfort and no small amount of guidance.
Uncle Jim took great care to spend time with us individually. Over and over he spoke to each of us one-on-one. His degree of empathy and understanding was nothing short of remarkable. He was able to focus on each of us so carefully.
It is difficult to remember precisely what he said to us, now fifty years later, but the feeling remains distinct and clear: He communicated to each of us that somehow everything was going to be ok. That if things got really bad, beyond our abilities to cope, he was going to personally make sure that we would not fall. He promised us. He explained and showed us, demonstrated to us, what real family is, and that we would always, always be family.
The next few years were agony for Nancy, and most difficult for all of us boys. Bob had left us with a modicum of life insurance, but it was perilously thin. Nancy took a job at the McFarland Clinic, in Ames, but her modest salary barely covered all of our requirements as a family of four. But we all knew that somehow Uncle Jim was always going to be available, watching over his little sister like some infinitely vigilant angel. He called Nancy frequently over the next three years. He asked about everything. And Nancy put the entirety of our finances into his capable hands. She would talk to him for long periods of time.
Uncle Jim was directly responsible for helping us survive our time of need. We will all remember his kindness, empathy, and guidance for the rest of our lives. Indeed, his actions set an example of what family is all about.
After the funeral in Ft. Dodge, attended by 600 people, we returned to New York, preparing to move back to Iowa. At that point, another thing happened that will never be forgotten. Nancy’s older sister, Aunt Marie Hardman, came to actually stay with us for a long time. And that was far from fun and easy. Our household, like any other that has suddenly lost its breadwinner in the prime of life, was a place of terrible sadness and grief. But Aunt Marie rose to the occasion, fearlessly and selflessly. She cooked, cleaned, got us ready for school, shopped, consoled, and comforted. Strong and wise, her presence was incredibly appreciated. Then, when she had to return home, she sent our terrific cousin Mary to stay with us for an entire month during the summer months as we prepared to move back from New York to Iowa. Surely that was incredibly challenging for Mary, but neither she nor her mother ever uttered one word of complaint. We felt loved and cared for, never alone.
All of the Michael's will remember these acts of sacrifice and compassion forever. We couldn’t possibly be more grateful. Dr. Jim Pilcher, has many many accomplishments, and acts of superb intelligence and wisdom. But the way he immediately dropped his own great responsibilities and showed up the day after Bob passed away, has been the most memorable – and says it all about what kind of man he was.
Thanks Todd wonderfully written. Joel
