Inside Webster News

Harry James Cargas--1932-1998

Harry James Cargas, professor emeritus of Webster University's English Department, died on Tuesday evening, August 18, after suffering a brain hemorrhage a day earlier. Harry, who had been seriously ill in recent years, was 66 years old. He was a scholar and an athlete; a devout Catholic who was respected in the Jewish community for his work on the Holocaust; a grizzly guy with a heart of putty; a family man who recognized his connections to his community and to his God. He was a distinctive and distinguished presence on the St. Louis campus.

A faculty member since 1970, Harry was the author of more than 2,500 articles and 32 books, including Conversations with Elie Wiesel, Religious Experience and Process Theology, and Daniel Berrigan and Contemporary Protest Poetry. He counted Nobel Prize winner Elie Wiesel among his friends.

Harry's interests ranged widely. At Webster he taught courses on the novels of Kurt Vonnegut (also a personal friend), Native American literature, Latin American literature, protest literature, and many more eclectic subjects such as irreality and utopia/dystopia. In addition to teaching in the English Department and serving as its chair, Harry taught history and religion courses, led the Art Department for a time, and served as athletic director in the late 80s.

The easy way that sports and academics came together for Harry comes to life in a story he told earlier this year. He had received a warm letter, he said, from a student who had graduated in 1981. "Just wanted to say hello and thank you." Harry was happy to be remembered as something other than a "broomstick, taking roll call and delivering grades." Harry remembered the student because they played basketball together.

"I could get around him pretty easily," said Harry, who took delight in this and all his accomplishments. He was well known to St. Louisans for his 25 years of radio broadcasts on KWMU radio. He was also an internationally recognized public speaker, having lectured in eight foreign countries and at more than 40 U.S. colleges and universities. He received numerous awards including the Human Rights Award from the United Nations Association, the Eternal Flame Award from the Anne Frank Institute and the Tree of Life from the National Jewish Fund.

In 1980, Harry was appointed by President Carter to be one of the original members of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Council, which laid the groundwork for the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Other appointments included the executive council of the U.S. Holocaust council; vice-president of the Annual Scholars' Conference on the Holocaust; and the honor of being the only Catholic ever appointed to the International Advisory Committee of Yad Vashem, Israel's holocaust memorial.

Harry is survived by his wife Millie Rieder Cargas and their six children. He is also survived by his mother and by eight grandchildren. Donations in honor of Harry James Cargas can be made to the Karen Catholic Workers House, 1840 Hogan Street, St. Louis 63106, or to the Webster University Holocaust Studies Fund, Development Office.

**Harry James Cargas--1932-1998**
Harry James Cargas, professor emeritus of Webster University's English Department, died on Tuesday evening, August 18, after suffering a brain hemorrhage a day earlier. Harry, who had been seriously ill in recent years, was 66 years old. He was a scholar and an athlete; a devout Catholic who was respected in the Jewish community for his work on the Holocaust; a grizzly guy with a heart of putty; a family man who recognized his connections to his community and to his God. He was a distinctive and distinguished presence on the St. Louis campus. A faculty member since 1970, Harry was the author of more than 2,500 articles and 32 books, including Conversations with Elie Wiesel, Religious Experience and Process Theology, and Daniel Berrigan and Contemporary Protest Poetry. He counted Nobel Prize winner Elie Wiesel among his friends. Harry's interests ranged widely. At Webster he taught courses on the novels of Kurt Vonnegut (also a personal friend), Native American literature, Latin American literature, protest literature, and many more eclectic subjects such as irreality and utopia/dystopia. In addition to teaching in the English Department and serving as its chair, Harry taught history and religion courses, led the Art Department for a time, and served as athletic director in the late 80s. The easy way that sports and academics came together for Harry comes to life in a story he told earlier this year. He had received a warm letter, he said, from a student who had graduated in 1981. "Just wanted to say hello and thank you." Harry was happy to be remembered as something other than a "broomstick, taking roll call and delivering grades." Harry remembered the student because they played basketball together. "I could get around him pretty easily," said Harry, who took delight in this and all his accomplishments. He was well known to St. Louisans for his 25 years of radio broadcasts on KWMU radio. He was also an internationally recognized public speaker, having lectured in eight foreign countries and at more than 40 U.S. colleges and universities. He received numerous awards including the Human Rights Award from the United Nations Association, the Eternal Flame Award from the Anne Frank Institute and the Tree of Life from the National Jewish Fund. In 1980, Harry was appointed by President Carter to be one of the original members of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Council, which laid the groundwork for the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Other appointments included the executive council of the U.S. Holocaust council; vice-president of the Annual Scholars' Conference on the Holocaust; and the honor of being the only Catholic ever appointed to the International Advisory Committee of Yad Vashem, Israel's holocaust memorial. Harry is survived by his wife Millie Rieder Cargas and their six children. He is also survived by his mother and by eight grandchildren. Donations in honor of Harry James Cargas can be made to the Karen Catholic Workers House, 1840 Hogan Street, St. Louis 63106, or to the Webster University Holocaust Studies Fund, Development Office.

Circling St. Louis All Night--By David Clewell, Acting Chairperson, English

Harry James Cargas lived a passionate life. The part that I knew best was his passion for books. He read them, wrote them, reviewed them, taught them in his classes. He made no secret of his zest for the authors behind them, too: he wrote to them, faxed them, phoned them, interviewed them, had lunch with them. His tastes in these matters were eclectic, wide-ranging. How he and I managed to disagree-so good naturedly, but still so often and about so much-became a small art form itself. And one that we spent the 13 years we worked together perfecting.

So thank the inscrutable gods (and poet Philip Levine) for "The Poem Circling Hamtramck, Michigan, All Night in Search of You"-a beautiful, if sad, accounting of laborers' lives in a town beaten down by its own sense of hard work. Harry had spent some time in Hamtramck, it turned out; Harry could talk Hamtramck. Of course, Harry could talk almost anything-and did. But that's another few hundred stories. I don't remember exactly how Levine's poem came up, but I do recall that we actually agreed-and strongly-about its wisdom, its guts, and its heart.

Harry was always drawn to what he considered the voices of protest: the stories of the outsider, the marginalized, the oppressed, the too-easily forgotten. Through the reading lists for his classes, he introduced hundreds of Webster students to a vibrant body of world literature, all the while doing his best to show them how any literature comes alive through the reader/writer collaboration. The art of reading is a human act of imagination as vital as the writer's. With any luck, what emerges is some new awareness, some new-found empathy: our common humanity, rendered in words-and Harry believed mightily in words. He knew their power: well-written, well-spoken, well-chosen words can change whole lives.

So all night I've been living in these few paragraphs, circling St. Louis in the humid summer air, searching-in my way-for him. I thought maybe I'd find him at the photocopier we always fought over. Or the fax machine. Surely at the mailboxes where, if volume had been a criterion, Harry would have had his own zip code. Never, though, at the computer (bless his soul, fellow dinosaur).

Right now I'm looking, and he's in none of these places. I keep thinking I'll hear that voice coming from somewhere I haven't thought of yet, calling out the refrain I heard so often the past 13 years: "Make a mistake, Clewell, and I'll be all over you like a cheap suit." Laughing. But the only mistake I've made so far tonight is thinking he's still going to turn up somewhere to give me his brand of good-hearted grief again.

And tonight I just can't help it: I still want to pick on his wardrobe as much as he picked on mine. I still want him to see how Oe's A Personal Matter, grimness notwithstanding, is beautiful, optimistic, and (because Harry would insist on wanting it so) moral. I want to hear him try one more time to convince me that Absalom, Absalom is the Greatest American Novel. Again: I admit to making a mistake. And tonight he's all over my heart. I've got some actual, less good-natured grief for him now. That I can't find him to give it to is why I've got it at all. Go figure that.

I'm still looking for a guy in a sports coat and signature buzz-cut. It's no fun at all, this getting, finally, to have the last word. Hey, Mr. Peace-in-Deed: we'll always have Hamtramck.

**Circling St. Louis All Night--By David Clewell, Acting Chairperson, English**
Harry James Cargas lived a passionate life. The part that I knew best was his passion for books. He read them, wrote them, reviewed them, taught them in his classes. He made no secret of his zest for the authors behind them, too: he wrote to them, faxed them, phoned them, interviewed them, had lunch with them. His tastes in these matters were eclectic, wide-ranging. How he and I managed to disagree-so good naturedly, but still so often and about so much-became a small art form itself. And one that we spent the 13 years we worked together perfecting. So thank the inscrutable gods (and poet Philip Levine) for "The Poem Circling Hamtramck, Michigan, All Night in Search of You"-a beautiful, if sad, accounting of laborers' lives in a town beaten down by its own sense of hard work. Harry had spent some time in Hamtramck, it turned out; Harry could talk Hamtramck. Of course, Harry could talk almost anything-and did. But that's another few hundred stories. I don't remember exactly how Levine's poem came up, but I do recall that we actually agreed-and strongly-about its wisdom, its guts, and its heart. Harry was always drawn to what he considered the voices of protest: the stories of the outsider, the marginalized, the oppressed, the too-easily forgotten. Through the reading lists for his classes, he introduced hundreds of Webster students to a vibrant body of world literature, all the while doing his best to show them how any literature comes alive through the reader/writer collaboration. The art of reading is a human act of imagination as vital as the writer's. With any luck, what emerges is some new awareness, some new-found empathy: our common humanity, rendered in words-and Harry believed mightily in words. He knew their power: well-written, well-spoken, well-chosen words can change whole lives. So all night I've been living in these few paragraphs, circling St. Louis in the humid summer air, searching-in my way-for him. I thought maybe I'd find him at the photocopier we always fought over. Or the fax machine. Surely at the mailboxes where, if volume had been a criterion, Harry would have had his own zip code. Never, though, at the computer (bless his soul, fellow dinosaur). Right now I'm looking, and he's in none of these places. I keep thinking I'll hear that voice coming from somewhere I haven't thought of yet, calling out the refrain I heard so often the past 13 years: "Make a mistake, Clewell, and I'll be all over you like a cheap suit." Laughing. But the only mistake I've made so far tonight is thinking he's still going to turn up somewhere to give me his brand of good-hearted grief again. And tonight I just can't help it: I still want to pick on his wardrobe as much as he picked on mine. I still want him to see how Oe's A Personal Matter, grimness notwithstanding, is beautiful, optimistic, and (because Harry would insist on wanting it so) moral. I want to hear him try one more time to convince me that Absalom, Absalom is the Greatest American Novel. Again: I admit to making a mistake. And tonight he's all over my heart. I've got some actual, less good-natured grief for him now. That I can't find him to give it to is why I've got it at all. Go figure that. I'm still looking for a guy in a sports coat and signature buzz-cut. It's no fun at all, this getting, finally, to have the last word. Hey, Mr. Peace-in-Deed: we'll always have Hamtramck.

Webster Remembers Harry James Cargas

Harry taught my first literature class at Webster. I remember that he invited his former student (and local author) Eddy Harris to speak to the class about writing. I found this beneficial, and I greatly enjoyed Harry's supplements (besides his humor) to our class curriculum.

Catherine Brancato
Access Services Clerk
Eden-Webster Library
and Former Student

One year Harry thought we needed a focal point of interest that could bring together the diverse aspects of the University. He started annual NCAA basketball and college bowl football pools and distributed forms to anyone interested.

In addition to having the chance to win the pot, Harry would write a summary of how everyone was doing halfway through the tournament. If you were not very skillful at picking the winner you could count on Harry subjecting you to humorous ribbing in his status summary of the pool at the halfway point. Special attention was paid to anyone foolish enough to bet against his beloved Michigan, especially if they were still in the chase.

Jim Brasfield
Chairperson and Professor
Management

Dr. Harry J. Cargas (known to me as "Grandpa") exemplified the true meaning of caring. My most memorable times with Harry were when we teased each other about our role as grandparents. He was very enthralled by the fact that I was the youngest grandmother on campus. He spent hours enlightening me about the do's and don'ts of Webster College.

I feel honored and blessed to have had Harry (Grandpa) as a mentor and friend for most of my career at Webster. My loss of Harry is heaven's gain, because I know surely he is there.

Earline Burroughs
Operator, Print Shop

In 1974, before there was a Gorlok, sports at Webster College were pick-up games and informal recreation. That year, the Black Student Association (BSA) got together regularly and played basketball. Students in the Music Department also got a team together and a game was scheduled between the Music Department and the BSA.

The teams met at the gym in Nerinx Hall and Harry Cargas was the referee. Jan Easterday (later to become my wife, Jan Chamberlin) was a member of the Music Department team. When the BSA saw that a woman was on the team, they protested and said they wouldn't play if there was a woman on the court. Harry told the team that if they refused to play, they would forfeit the game and the Music Department would win by default.
That was all that needed to be said. The game went on as scheduled and the BSA won the match. Harry's sense of ethics and fair play were demonstrated that day.

Bob Chamberlin
Director
Academic Advising Center

Harry was such a friend to the Nursing Department. He would always come in to visit, tell a few medical jokes and have his blood pressure taken. Harry also would treat us to a pizza party each year. He felt that it was a legitimate time to go off of his diet because if anything happened he would be in a room full of nurses! We have a number of pictures of Harry on the examination table in the nursing lab with all of the nursing faculty and their stethescopes listening to Harry's heart. Thanks for the memories Harry....and the pizza.

Dian Davitt
Associate Professor, Nursing

Harry, while talking about the athletic program at Webster on his radio show one time, focused his thoughts on my role in the program's development. I did not find out about this particular show until after it airedit was reprinted in a local tabloid. In addition to many kind words Harry said about me personally and my relationship with Webster University, he added a footnote that only Harry could. In describing my athletic career, Harry said that I was "more of a never-was than a has-been." Only Harry could write such kind words about someone while needling them about a humbling truth, and still leave them (me) laughing out loud!

Niel DeVasto
Director, Office of Admissions

Harry Cargas was always a friend to Webster University's Operations Department. In appreciation of Physical Plant, many times he provided lunch for the workers. Our department will always have kind thoughts of him.

John Featherston
Director, Operations

In addition to my admiration of his remarkable professional achievements, I loved Harry for his personal warmth and his wonderful way of seeing the lighter side of things. He made Webster University a better and happier place.

Conal Furay
Emeritus Professor, History, Politics and Law

No one has done more during his tenure at Webster to advance our philosophy and mission. Harry was the ideal "common man," the ideal "family man." He had a simple message that was exemplified in his writings, teachings, and his personal life -"identify and work to correct injustice, and be merciful."

Neil George
Executive Vice President

Harry came to me a year ago and said, "I know you're busy and I admire your TV and radio work. Would you write an op. editorial with me?" I thought to myself, here is this legendary scholar acting like I'd be doing him a favor. He is that gracious-none of the arrogance you can typically see in academia.

David Harpool
Interim Dean, School of Business

Harry had an extremely thick skin. He could dish it out and take it. Harry used to run office pools around the NCAA basketball playoffs and the college football bowls. For one dollar you made your predictions. Half of the money went to the winner, the other half to something called the "Mother Teresa Cargas Fund." Of course, the money actually went to a legit charity. What you really paid for was the right to be insulted in the subsequent reports on how you were faring. It was almost more fun to be on the bottom than the top. And always there were optimistic reports sprinkled throughout on the "successes" of Harry's beloved Michigan Wolverines, who, of course, never actually lost a legitimate contest.

In 1984, a few of us decided to take retribution. We concocted some rather official-looking IRS form letter and an envelope with a window in it. The letter informed Harry in federal bureaucrateeze that "section 8036 (b) of the Internal Revenue Code requires us to specify the particular unreported income amounts or illegal deductions alleged by third party complainants."

Harry's wife Millie was in on the joke so that when the letter arrived at home (we used a postage meter to give a further air of authenticity) he would not immediately engage a lawyer. Millie let us know the letter had the calculated effect, as Harry flew into a rage. But when he calmed down his first instinct was to make sure we had another copy of the letter. He had a great laugh and continued to run the pools for some years later. I am sure that Harry arrived at the pearly gates in a Wolverine T-shirt, even if the first game for Michigan this year is Notre Dame. And if there wasn't ever a Mother Theresa Cargas Foundation on Earth, there ought to be one.

Dan Hellinger
Chairperson and Professor
History, Politics, and Law Department

He was the "snack king" of Webster. If there was food in an office he would find it and while eating, share his humor and wit with you. He shared many stories with us in the Computer Center from his childhood to adulthood. I typed many articles for Harry and learned a lot about who he was and what he wanted to share with people. Because he chose Webster as his second home, we were all blessed with the knowledge, humor and the love he shared with all of us. I will truly miss Harry and hope that his family will find comfort in the loving memories he has left them with. As Harry often signed his papers, may he finally have Peace in Deed.

Sharon Hessler
Coordinator, University Computer Center

For the past 10 years, Harry has been my colleague, my professor and my friend-someone who could always make me smile, no matter how difficult things were. I believe these past few years, since his miraculous recovery from a two-month coma, have been a gift-perhaps more to us than him. It was difficult for him to cope with the fact that he would never regain his characteristic vigor-but how wonderful for him to learn, while still living, how much he has meant to so many people. I know he and his family were deeply touched by the outpouring of love and concern sent to them during that serious illness. Now we must face the fact that, this time, Harry did not recover. The thoughts and feelings we had a few years ago resurface and we grapple again with the difficult task of going on without him.

Marianne Kirk
Communications Coordinator, University Communications

In July of 1988 Harry hired me as a part-time secretary in the Athletic Department while he was the acting athletic Director. He only held that position until May of 1989, but the thing I remember about Harry at that time was how very proud he was to be the athletic director. He wanted the department to grow and succeed, and he proudly wore his navy and gold. When I saw him in recent years he would always tell me how happy he was that the department was growing and so successful.

Sue McClintock
Department Assistant, Athletics Office

I got to know Harry in very much the same way that I'm sure so many of us did. He'd come to our office to deliver some notes or ask for a photo, and he'd sit down for a few minutes to visit. We'd talk about matters big and small, and over the course of time we got to know each other. I relished my talks with Harry, not so much because I agreed (or disagreed) with him, but because he always offered a perspective that I hadn't considered. There's great value in that, I think.

Last year I interviewed Harry for a story I wrote for the St. Louis Journalism Review. One thing Harry said sums up my impression of what he stood for and why he influenced me: "Socrates said, 'Know thyself.' Pindar said, 'Become who you are.' I think that's even more important. It implies discovering who you are and living up to it. That's what I'm hoping everybody else does. That's what I'm hoping I can encourage others to do through my teaching and writing. Have I succeeded? Of course not. But I don't want to quit. The question is, 'Have I discovered myself?' To say yes would be arrogant to say no would be to admit failure. I think I'm somewhere in between."

Harry once described for me a drawing of a gravestone that appears in one of Kurt Vonnegut's books. The inscription on the stone reads, "He tried."

"I think if that can accurately be said about each of us," he said, "this would be a great world. So I'm trying, and I want you to try."

I like to think that I have tried, and since I've known Harry, I think I've been trying a little harder.

Pete McEwen
Editor, Web Site
University Communications

A funny thing I remember about Harry is that the Student Services Department and Academic Advising used to have "pot luck" lunches in the summer and Harry would join us with his contribution of White Castle "belly bombers."

Jeanette McRoberts
Department Assistant, International Student Center

A Zen saying states, "To know and not to do, is not yet to know." Harry Cargas' life was one of knowing and doing- and spectacularly, without arrogance or presumption. He epitomized scholarship and humility and was the consummate hero of the common man. Besides this, he was Webster's No. 1 cheerleader. We will sorely miss him.

Richard S. Meyers
President

Harry loved libraries. He visited Eden-Webster Library almost daily and was always chagrined during those rare times when the library was closed. I liked to tease him that the library is available 24 hours a day through Passports, but to Harry this couldn't take the place of the people contact that was so important to him. We always knew when Harry was in the building because he left trails of laughter wherever he went. In 1996, Harry donated his personal book collection and all of his writings to the library. We were honored that Harry entrusted this valuable collection to our care and take some comfort in knowing that his important legacy will be available to future generations of scholars.

Laura Rein
Director, Eden-Webster Library

Webster used to rent the Plymouth Junior High gym once a week. It was torn down 10, 12, years ago to make way for condominiums. One night, somewhere in the 70s, I showed up to find Harry, Jim Evans and Lester Mason already there. We warmed up, traded insults. Four guys in our 30s and 40s, none of us particularly gifted, no one over 5 ft. 10 in. No one played above the rim.

Four young men in their teens, two of whom I later learned played basketball for Webster Groves High, came in and started warming up at the other end of the gym.

"A little four-on-four?"
"Sure."
"Want us to split up?" says one of the young kids, trying not to be insulting.

Harry's hackles start rising - from about 11 inches closer to the floor. "Not on your life," he says, 12-year-old Hamtramck street kid emerging from behind the facade of getting-on-middle-aged Holocaust scholar. "We'll take it out."

Harry went back door on the first play and scored. We set screens and head faked and passed the ball - and against all odds, won.

Stunned, confused kids. Grown-up men grinning like little boys. Living testimony to the value of education and experience versus raw talent.

The kicker is the part Harry didn't tell. I'm sitting on the floor after the game, sucking wind, and Harry - ten years older, four inches shorter and 30 pounds heavier than I - sidles up to one of the kids and says "nice game, son. But there's no way we should ever beat you. When you come out of shock, I'll show you how we did it. And what you need to do to stop us from doing it again." Maybe two weeks later I came to the gym and found Harry working with those kids on how to defend against the back-door play.

Art Sandler
President, Faculty Senate

Almost 20 years ago, I read an interview the Post-Dispatch did with Harry Cargas about a Christian response to the Holocaust. In it, he posed the question, "Jews ask, where was God at Auschwitz, but I ask, where was Christ?" I didn't know Harry, then, but I used that as an epigraph for one of the first poems I ever published, in River Styx. After it came out, Harry sent me a gracious note, thanking me for the poem, and I was touched that he took time to send such a kind letter to a stranger, a young writer just starting out. When someone dies, we tend to make them larger than they were in life, but Harry was so big in life-so passionate, so full of energy-that I don't think there's danger of that happening. No matter how big we make him in our memory, in our eulogies, he was larger still. It's a sad thing, thinking about the freshmen starting college on Monday, that they'll never have the opportunity to take a course from him.

Joe Schuster
Dir. of Graduate Programs
School of Communications

The thing I remember most about Harry was when I was a student in his Literature of War class, and all of us students were trying to convince him that we should just have an oral final, instead of a written final. It took awhile, but we succeeded. On the morning of the "final" he brought in a bunch of White Castle burgers (why not for breakfast?). He asked just one question for the oral exam. "If you were a concentration camp survivor lying in a hospital bed and a German officer came to you and asked for forgiveness, would you grant it?" Needless to say, there were those who said they'd grant it and those who said they wouldn't. I asked Harry what he'd do and he just chuckled and asked another question. I think I know now what Harry's answer would be.

Vicki Knoll Woods
Director, Film Series Office

**Webster Remembers Harry James Cargas**
Harry taught my first literature class at Webster. I remember that he invited his former student (and local author) Eddy Harris to speak to the class about writing. I found this beneficial, and I greatly enjoyed Harry's supplements (besides his humor) to our class curriculum. Catherine Brancato Access Services Clerk Eden-Webster Library and Former Student One year Harry thought we needed a focal point of interest that could bring together the diverse aspects of the University. He started annual NCAA basketball and college bowl football pools and distributed forms to anyone interested. In addition to having the chance to win the pot, Harry would write a summary of how everyone was doing halfway through the tournament. If you were not very skillful at picking the winner you could count on Harry subjecting you to humorous ribbing in his status summary of the pool at the halfway point. Special attention was paid to anyone foolish enough to bet against his beloved Michigan, especially if they were still in the chase. Jim Brasfield Chairperson and Professor Management Dr. Harry J. Cargas (known to me as "Grandpa") exemplified the true meaning of caring. My most memorable times with Harry were when we teased each other about our role as grandparents. He was very enthralled by the fact that I was the youngest grandmother on campus. He spent hours enlightening me about the do's and don'ts of Webster College. I feel honored and blessed to have had Harry (Grandpa) as a mentor and friend for most of my career at Webster. My loss of Harry is heaven's gain, because I know surely he is there. Earline Burroughs Operator, Print Shop In 1974, before there was a Gorlok, sports at Webster College were pick-up games and informal recreation. That year, the Black Student Association (BSA) got together regularly and played basketball. Students in the Music Department also got a team together and a game was scheduled between the Music Department and the BSA. The teams met at the gym in Nerinx Hall and Harry Cargas was the referee. Jan Easterday (later to become my wife, Jan Chamberlin) was a member of the Music Department team. When the BSA saw that a woman was on the team, they protested and said they wouldn't play if there was a woman on the court. Harry told the team that if they refused to play, they would forfeit the game and the Music Department would win by default. That was all that needed to be said. The game went on as scheduled and the BSA won the match. Harry's sense of ethics and fair play were demonstrated that day. Bob Chamberlin Director Academic Advising Center Harry was such a friend to the Nursing Department. He would always come in to visit, tell a few medical jokes and have his blood pressure taken. Harry also would treat us to a pizza party each year. He felt that it was a legitimate time to go off of his diet because if anything happened he would be in a room full of nurses! We have a number of pictures of Harry on the examination table in the nursing lab with all of the nursing faculty and their stethescopes listening to Harry's heart. Thanks for the memories Harry....and the pizza. Dian Davitt Associate Professor, Nursing Harry, while talking about the athletic program at Webster on his radio show one time, focused his thoughts on my role in the program's development. I did not find out about this particular show until after it airedit was reprinted in a local tabloid. In addition to many kind words Harry said about me personally and my relationship with Webster University, he added a footnote that only Harry could. In describing my athletic career, Harry said that I was "more of a never-was than a has-been." Only Harry could write such kind words about someone while needling them about a humbling truth, and still leave them (me) laughing out loud! Niel DeVasto Director, Office of Admissions Harry Cargas was always a friend to Webster University's Operations Department. In appreciation of Physical Plant, many times he provided lunch for the workers. Our department will always have kind thoughts of him. John Featherston Director, Operations In addition to my admiration of his remarkable professional achievements, I loved Harry for his personal warmth and his wonderful way of seeing the lighter side of things. He made Webster University a better and happier place. Conal Furay Emeritus Professor, History, Politics and Law No one has done more during his tenure at Webster to advance our philosophy and mission. Harry was the ideal "common man," the ideal "family man." He had a simple message that was exemplified in his writings, teachings, and his personal life -"identify and work to correct injustice, and be merciful." Neil George Executive Vice President Harry came to me a year ago and said, "I know you're busy and I admire your TV and radio work. Would you write an op. editorial with me?" I thought to myself, here is this legendary scholar acting like I'd be doing him a favor. He is that gracious-none of the arrogance you can typically see in academia. David Harpool Interim Dean, School of Business Harry had an extremely thick skin. He could dish it out and take it. Harry used to run office pools around the NCAA basketball playoffs and the college football bowls. For one dollar you made your predictions. Half of the money went to the winner, the other half to something called the "Mother Teresa Cargas Fund." Of course, the money actually went to a legit charity. What you really paid for was the right to be insulted in the subsequent reports on how you were faring. It was almost more fun to be on the bottom than the top. And always there were optimistic reports sprinkled throughout on the "successes" of Harry's beloved Michigan Wolverines, who, of course, never actually lost a legitimate contest. In 1984, a few of us decided to take retribution. We concocted some rather official-looking IRS form letter and an envelope with a window in it. The letter informed Harry in federal bureaucrateeze that "section 8036 (b) of the Internal Revenue Code requires us to specify the particular unreported income amounts or illegal deductions alleged by third party complainants." Harry's wife Millie was in on the joke so that when the letter arrived at home (we used a postage meter to give a further air of authenticity) he would not immediately engage a lawyer. Millie let us know the letter had the calculated effect, as Harry flew into a rage. But when he calmed down his first instinct was to make sure we had another copy of the letter. He had a great laugh and continued to run the pools for some years later. I am sure that Harry arrived at the pearly gates in a Wolverine T-shirt, even if the first game for Michigan this year is Notre Dame. And if there wasn't ever a Mother Theresa Cargas Foundation on Earth, there ought to be one. Dan Hellinger Chairperson and Professor History, Politics, and Law Department He was the "snack king" of Webster. If there was food in an office he would find it and while eating, share his humor and wit with you. He shared many stories with us in the Computer Center from his childhood to adulthood. I typed many articles for Harry and learned a lot about who he was and what he wanted to share with people. Because he chose Webster as his second home, we were all blessed with the knowledge, humor and the love he shared with all of us. I will truly miss Harry and hope that his family will find comfort in the loving memories he has left them with. As Harry often signed his papers, may he finally have Peace in Deed. Sharon Hessler Coordinator, University Computer Center For the past 10 years, Harry has been my colleague, my professor and my friend-someone who could always make me smile, no matter how difficult things were. I believe these past few years, since his miraculous recovery from a two-month coma, have been a gift-perhaps more to us than him. It was difficult for him to cope with the fact that he would never regain his characteristic vigor-but how wonderful for him to learn, while still living, how much he has meant to so many people. I know he and his family were deeply touched by the outpouring of love and concern sent to them during that serious illness. Now we must face the fact that, this time, Harry did not recover. The thoughts and feelings we had a few years ago resurface and we grapple again with the difficult task of going on without him. Marianne Kirk Communications Coordinator, University Communications In July of 1988 Harry hired me as a part-time secretary in the Athletic Department while he was the acting athletic Director. He only held that position until May of 1989, but the thing I remember about Harry at that time was how very proud he was to be the athletic director. He wanted the department to grow and succeed, and he proudly wore his navy and gold. When I saw him in recent years he would always tell me how happy he was that the department was growing and so successful. Sue McClintock Department Assistant, Athletics Office I got to know Harry in very much the same way that I'm sure so many of us did. He'd come to our office to deliver some notes or ask for a photo, and he'd sit down for a few minutes to visit. We'd talk about matters big and small, and over the course of time we got to know each other. I relished my talks with Harry, not so much because I agreed (or disagreed) with him, but because he always offered a perspective that I hadn't considered. There's great value in that, I think. Last year I interviewed Harry for a story I wrote for the St. Louis Journalism Review. One thing Harry said sums up my impression of what he stood for and why he influenced me: "Socrates said, 'Know thyself.' Pindar said, 'Become who you are.' I think that's even more important. It implies discovering who you are and living up to it. That's what I'm hoping everybody else does. That's what I'm hoping I can encourage others to do through my teaching and writing. Have I succeeded? Of course not. But I don't want to quit. The question is, 'Have I discovered myself?' To say yes would be arrogant to say no would be to admit failure. I think I'm somewhere in between." Harry once described for me a drawing of a gravestone that appears in one of Kurt Vonnegut's books. The inscription on the stone reads, "He tried." "I think if that can accurately be said about each of us," he said, "this would be a great world. So I'm trying, and I want you to try." I like to think that I have tried, and since I've known Harry, I think I've been trying a little harder. Pete McEwen Editor, Web Site University Communications A funny thing I remember about Harry is that the Student Services Department and Academic Advising used to have "pot luck" lunches in the summer and Harry would join us with his contribution of White Castle "belly bombers." Jeanette McRoberts Department Assistant, International Student Center A Zen saying states, "To know and not to do, is not yet to know." Harry Cargas' life was one of knowing and doing- and spectacularly, without arrogance or presumption. He epitomized scholarship and humility and was the consummate hero of the common man. Besides this, he was Webster's No. 1 cheerleader. We will sorely miss him. Richard S. Meyers President Harry loved libraries. He visited Eden-Webster Library almost daily and was always chagrined during those rare times when the library was closed. I liked to tease him that the library is available 24 hours a day through Passports, but to Harry this couldn't take the place of the people contact that was so important to him. We always knew when Harry was in the building because he left trails of laughter wherever he went. In 1996, Harry donated his personal book collection and all of his writings to the library. We were honored that Harry entrusted this valuable collection to our care and take some comfort in knowing that his important legacy will be available to future generations of scholars. Laura Rein Director, Eden-Webster Library Webster used to rent the Plymouth Junior High gym once a week. It was torn down 10, 12, years ago to make way for condominiums. One night, somewhere in the 70s, I showed up to find Harry, Jim Evans and Lester Mason already there. We warmed up, traded insults. Four guys in our 30s and 40s, none of us particularly gifted, no one over 5 ft. 10 in. No one played above the rim. Four young men in their teens, two of whom I later learned played basketball for Webster Groves High, came in and started warming up at the other end of the gym. "A little four-on-four?" "Sure." "Want us to split up?" says one of the young kids, trying not to be insulting. Harry's hackles start rising - from about 11 inches closer to the floor. "Not on your life," he says, 12-year-old Hamtramck street kid emerging from behind the facade of getting-on-middle-aged Holocaust scholar. "We'll take it out." Harry went back door on the first play and scored. We set screens and head faked and passed the ball - and against all odds, won. Stunned, confused kids. Grown-up men grinning like little boys. Living testimony to the value of education and experience versus raw talent. The kicker is the part Harry didn't tell. I'm sitting on the floor after the game, sucking wind, and Harry - ten years older, four inches shorter and 30 pounds heavier than I - sidles up to one of the kids and says "nice game, son. But there's no way we should ever beat you. When you come out of shock, I'll show you how we did it. And what you need to do to stop us from doing it again." Maybe two weeks later I came to the gym and found Harry working with those kids on how to defend against the back-door play. Art Sandler President, Faculty Senate Almost 20 years ago, I read an interview the Post-Dispatch did with Harry Cargas about a Christian response to the Holocaust. In it, he posed the question, "Jews ask, where was God at Auschwitz, but I ask, where was Christ?" I didn't know Harry, then, but I used that as an epigraph for one of the first poems I ever published, in River Styx. After it came out, Harry sent me a gracious note, thanking me for the poem, and I was touched that he took time to send such a kind letter to a stranger, a young writer just starting out. When someone dies, we tend to make them larger than they were in life, but Harry was so big in life-so passionate, so full of energy-that I don't think there's danger of that happening. No matter how big we make him in our memory, in our eulogies, he was larger still. It's a sad thing, thinking about the freshmen starting college on Monday, that they'll never have the opportunity to take a course from him. Joe Schuster Dir. of Graduate Programs School of Communications The thing I remember most about Harry was when I was a student in his Literature of War class, and all of us students were trying to convince him that we should just have an oral final, instead of a written final. It took awhile, but we succeeded. On the morning of the "final" he brought in a bunch of White Castle burgers (why not for breakfast?). He asked just one question for the oral exam. "If you were a concentration camp survivor lying in a hospital bed and a German officer came to you and asked for forgiveness, would you grant it?" Needless to say, there were those who said they'd grant it and those who said they wouldn't. I asked Harry what he'd do and he just chuckled and asked another question. I think I know now what Harry's answer would be. Vicki Knoll Woods Director, Film Series Office

Condolences

Sincere sympathy is extended to Tom Lang, chairperson, Art, on the death of his father.

**Condolences**
Sincere sympathy is extended to Tom Lang, chairperson, Art, on the death of his father.

Welcome New Employees

We welcome these new employees into the "Webster Family."

Judith Day, general clerk, Ft. Chaffee, Ark. (501-484-7747), replaces Sharon Dilla.

Jennifer Haukup, student internship coordinator, School of Communications (ext. 7614).

Valerie Hansen, department assistant, Academic Affairs (ext. 6918), is working on her bachelor's degree in public relations and is a volunteer for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She once met Meatloaf while waiting tables at an area restaurant. She replaces Sharon Wingbermehle who has assumed other duties as a department assistant.

Jacqueline Iwasyszyn, department assistant, Academic Advising Center (ext. 6972), says she keeps busy with three children, two cats and one dog. She replaces Teresa Gili who was promoted to department associate, Health Services.

Regina McKinnie, department assistant, School of Education (ext. 7490), worked for the government for the past 17 years and is excited about her new and challenging job at Webster. She replaces Gloria Barbre who was promoted to representative, Human Resources.

Chelssee Randall, receptionist, Admissions Office (ext. 6991), replaces Karen Cullen who was promoted to department assistant, Study Abroad Center.

Julia Ray, general clerk, Rolla, Mo. (573-368-4569), replaces Joseph Johnson.

Guillermo Rodríguez, director, Professional Development and Continuing Learning Center (ext. 5950). Guillo is the president-elect of the Webster Groves Rotary Club. He was born and raised in Puerto Rico and has three daughters. His interests include wine appreciation; singing baritone in choirs and playing basketball, tennis and softball.

Ray St. Onge, secretary, Pope AFB, N.C. (910-436-0014), replaces Eve Holmes who was promoted to full-time secretary.

Anthony Williams, general clerk, Pope AFB, N.C. (910-436-0014), replaces Milton Littlejohn.