The Late Doctor Drell

It was a beautiful day.  Fall was just beginning, so the temperature was dropping, but the sun was out.  It must have been around 60 degrees with the wind blowing, and even cooler in the shade.  We were all gathered together into the great church.  There were a hundred of us at least, each wearing the finest clothes we had for the occasion.  Hushed discussions about the past and sniffles were the only sounds heard, besides the shuffling of those still making their way to their spots in the pews.  The closed casket sat just before the altar, the man of the hour resting forever within.  It was made of oak and the handles and accents of it were brass.  White flowers adorned it, providing contrast to the black cloth covering the table on which it sat. 

As people continued their way to their seats a young man stood up from the frontmost pew and made his way towards the altar.  His black hair was well groomed for this occasion, slicked back and out of his face.  His suit was just as deep a black and even the collared shirt and tie beneath his jacket were black.  The only bit of color to him were his fair complexion, his brown eyes – though, even those were quite dark as to be mistaken for black in low lighting – and brass cufflinks bearing a university logo.  This was James.  One of the departed’s most prized pupils.  He climbed the stairs to the altar intentionally, his somber eyes fixed on the casket ahead.  James walked up to the casket and laid a hand on it.  The room fell silent and he made sure to let that silence sit before turning to the podium and beginning his speech. 

“Doctor Drell was a unique sort of man.  He was firm and fair.  He always expected nothing but the best work from his students and always sought to give a fair grade to that work, regardless of how harsh his reviews may at times have come across.  He was also a strongly invested man.  He had no children of his own, and indeed was never even married, yet if you were fortunate enough to observe him privately tutoring a student, you would be forgiven for thinking you were watching a father and his only son on an outing together.  In fact, it would be a harder thing to forgive you if you thought anything else.”  This last comment elicited a pained chuckle from the room. 

“When a student sought a deeper understanding from the doctor,” James continued, “he was inclined to drop all that he was doing and immediately nurture their growth.  Doctor Drell was known for his charity.  A man of his prominence, with so many prizes and publications to his name, on staff at one of – if not the most prestigious university in the nation; such a man would be expected to be living like a king.  And yet, the good doctor lived within a single-story home with an unfinished basement.  The majority of his wealth went towards his university needs, charities, and – as many would attest to – his very students’ financial needs.  I, myself, was considering leaving university entirely before he insisted on making some of my tuition payments.  Lastly, and meaning no disrespect, he was the most stubborn old man God ever made.”  Considerable laughter erupted at this statement.  Laughter from those who knew how meticulous the doctor would be in everything from his curriculum to his seating plan.  Laughter which faded as those laughing considered the truth deeper and recalled the tenacity with which the very same doctor fought for his students, his school, and his field. 

“Many corporations sought to have his name attached to their work or their studies, but he would refuse all that didn’t mean his strict standards.  Many executives sought him out as a speaker for some event or another, and he refused if he did not whole-heartedly believe in the cause.  Many charities sought his endorsement, just as many as received it, yet they would not glance a penny of his if he believed them wasteful, greedy, or wrong in their cause.  This – all of this – is because Doctor Drell was a man of principle.  He believed in order and integrity.  He believed in his students, and all of the younger generation: in their potential.  He believed that all any man was, in both knowledge and wealth, should be shared liberally with all who truly needed him.  Because he believed in a bright future: a better tomorrow.  A tomorrow he would never see.  A tomorrow worth living and dying for.”  Murmurs and grunts of agreement sounded through the room in response to this plane summary of Doctor Drell’s philosophy. 

“Today, he was to be the honored guest and speaker at a charity event not far from here.  When news of his accident spread the event was not called off.  That’s because to call off such an event would go against the principles of the man it was being held in honor of.  Those attending the event are pursuing a better future: a future the doctor himself will never see.  And I know he wouldn’t have it any other way.  I know many of us here were his students and colleagues.  I appreciate you being here, as would Doctor Drell.  But let’s not linger on his past any more than he would want us to.  Let’s all push towards that future he sought.  Let’s work to fulfill those lofty expectations he had for us.  That each and every one of us, when our time is come to be spoken of, would be known as those who held to the very same ideals that made Doctor Octavius Drell such a great man; mentor; and hero.  Thank you, again, for being here.  I’ll remain a few minutes to greet you and then I’ll be off to his charity; to invest in that future.” 

And it was, at this moment, the casket was thrown open by the pale arm of its occupant.  The room, previously filled with sorrow and tears was now, entirely, in shock.  All eyes stared, unblinking, at the casket when the body of Doctor Drell sat upright.  He surveyed the room and directed his attention to a clock on the far wall.  He then, to the further disbelief of all in attendance, stood upright and stepped from his casket to the floor with a slight hop.  He turned his head towards James, a smile creeping across his face, and in that familiar old tone, spoke.  “Wonderfully put, James!  But, I’m afraid there’s no time to linger; I’m late.”