Remembering those we lost in 2011

Contributed photo Judy and Clem Denker.

For the birds, or at least for bird watchers
5/26/12
Uncorked book club enjoys new authors
5/26/12
Dayton Visual Art Center’s auction by the numbers
5/26/12
Wowed by the power of a brain
5/26/12
“Coupon Kid” gets “Extreme”
5/26/12
> More lifestyle headlines

By Mary McCarty, Staff Writer Updated 5:12 PM Saturday, January 7, 2012

This is the time of year when the world remembers the celebrated people we lost in 2011. Two very different luminaries — Apple cofounder Steve Jobs and actress Elizabeth Taylor — topped nearly every list.

It’s tempting to dismiss this ritual as another facet of our celebrity-saturated society. I prefer the more benevolent interpretation that we do it because we draw important lessons from their lives.

How did Elizabeth Taylor, for instance, survive so many decades of being The Most Famous Woman in the World? It’s a cumbersome tiara that crushed the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana in only a few short years.

The annual list always makes me think about the not-so-famous people who also touched our lives profoundly. I think of friends like Human Race Theatre cofounder Marsha Hanna and community activist Marsha Froelich, leading lights in our community.

I think also about the two beloved uncles we lost last year — my husband Jim’s uncle, Clem Denker, and my uncle, Clarke Ash. They were very different men leading very different lives, yet what I learned from them was surprisingly similar: unshakable integrity and profound love of family.

Clem grew up in Papillion, Neb., and lived there all his life. In one of the ironic twists of fate, Lady Gaga — the current bearer of that cumbersome tiara — has spent a fair amount of time in that little town. Her on-again, off-again boyfriend is a Papillion boy. I never talked to Clem about this brush with fame, but I imagine he would be unfazed by it. He didn’t need to be dazzled by anyone other than Judy, his wife of 52 years.

Clem wasn’t the type to brag, but you could tell from the look on his face how much he reveled in his fun-loving, lively brood of five children and 11 grandchildren. Even when he was working long hours as a factory worker for Western Electric, he made time for his family. As his youngest son, Lee, noted at the memorial service: “Dad wasn’t a big talker; in fact he was pretty quiet much of the time. But he was there. Dad taught us that there is power in silence.”

Lee recalled how Clem enthusiastically followed the athletic exploits of his four older children: “Unfortunately, after years of sitting the bench on the B teams, it became clear that the athletic gene was not passed down to me,” Lee recalled. “My sophomore year, rather than trying out for a sports team, I auditioned for the school musical and was cast as the Lion in “The Wizard of Oz.” After one of the performances, Dad told me how much he enjoyed the show. I thanked him and said that I bet he would prefer to see me playing basketball or football rather than sitting through a show. He couldn’t have disagreed more. He said, ‘You are a good performer, and I can tell that you enjoy it. Keep doing what you enjoy. You make me proud.’”

What could be a better definition of success than a man who not only worked hard all his life to support his family, but could tell his son exactly what he needed? Who could be as much in love with his wife as ever after more than 50 years of marriage?

When Clem was in the ER recently after a fall, his son recalled, “Mom, standing at Dad’s side, gave him a kiss and gently rubbed his bruised head. I heard her ask, ‘Clem, is there anything I can do to help?’ He replied in his kind and gentle way, ‘Just be here.’”

“And, of course, as always, she was,” Lee said at the memorial service. “You see, that was the magic of their relationship. They were just there for each other, in good and challenging times. They never gave up on each other. They made a great pair, and their love was never in doubt.”

My uncle and godfather, Clarke Ash, was a prominent journalist who retired as editorial page editor for the Palm Beach Post in Florida. He earned several medals for his service as a B-17 pilot in World War II, including the Air Medal for exceptional duty in combat for landing his damaged plane in a Belgian field to drop off a wounded gunner.

Clarke got his start at the Dayton Daily News in the late 1940s, a fresh hire from the University of Dayton who covered his own graduation and exchanged daily quips with Gov. James Cox, then a very visible presence in the newsroom.

The biggest prize from his years in Dayton, however, was his 54-year-marriage to my aunt Aggie McCarty, my father’s sister, who worked as a city desk clerk and was later a writer for the women’s section.

Much later, during Clarke’s tenure as editorial page editor for the Miami News in Florida, the paper won three Pulitzer Prizes — one for its coverage of the Cuban Missile Crisis and two for editorial cartoons by Don Wright.

Clarke always gave me lots of great career advice but the most important ones came from example. He taught me that no story is worth compromising your ethics.

He taught me that you can be a dedicated journalist without sacrificing your family life.

And he taught me never to lose my passion for my work. When he left the Dayton Daily News, city editor Herb Koehl offered Clarke these parting words: “Don’t get cynical.” It’s advice he carried with him until the day he retired, nearly 40 years later. “It’s good advice for every job,” Clarke once told me. “And I think the newspaper business, though it projects cynicism, is the most idealistic job that remains. If you lose your idealism, you might as well be stuffing sausages or selling aluminium siding.”

Our world seems a poorer place without Clem and Clarke. Yet, in a deeper sense, our family will always be richer for the ways in which they taught us to live.

Tell us about your ‘most famous’

As the world remembers the notables who died in 2011, we’d like you to share the stories about the loved ones you lost last year, and what you learned from them.

Send a brief essay to columnist Mary McCarty at mmccarty@DaytonDaily News.com.

Share this article