Dr. Calvin O. Schrag, George Ade Distinguished Professor of Philosophy Emeritus at Purdue University, passed away at 95 years of age on March 11, of this year. He was my uncle. His daughter, my cousin, Dr. Heather Stampfl, asked me to prepare a eulogy for his memorial service Friday, April 27th, on the campus where he taught for more than 4 decades. I was honored to do so. My thoughts follow.
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My Uncle Calvin was the youngest of 9 exceptional Schrag siblings born a century or so ago on a sizable farm in southeastern South Dakota close by the present-day towns of Marion and Freeman. My generation called them the 1stgeneration, and we the 2nd. Somewhat surprisingly Calvin cherished his place in the birth order of that 1st generation.
I recall him addressing the birth order issue during some family gathering, maybe during schmekfest, or perhaps during an official Schrag reunion. Despite medical opinion to the contrary, Uncle Calvin claimed complete awareness shortly after being born. He clearly recalled looking up at Grandmother Schrag’s face as she declared, “Finally, the one I have been waiting for!”
And it was a special gift for us 2nd generationers. As the youngest of our Uncles and, for many years, unmarried and so free of the obligations of home and family, he often seemed more like a playmate than an Uncle.
During those years Calvin seemed to rotate between Springfield, Ohio where my family lived, and my father, aka Felix, Jim, Chummy, was a sociology professor at Wittenberg University; and Mundelein, Illinois where another of Calvin’s brothers Delbert, had a church. In those two Schrag households Calvin would serve as guest of honor for Thanksgiving or Christmas.
I remember quite clearly an episode at Thanksgiving – versions of which were apparently played out in the homes of other 2nd generationers. The meal was over and Dad and Uncle Kelly – back in those innocent days - would break out their pipes, get a good blaze going in the bowls, refill their coffee cups, and begin to debate whether Sociology or Philosophy was the more relevant discipline.
As the smoke swirled Gandalf-like around them they would mutter mysterious incantations – “existentialism” “ontological” “cultural imperative” natter, natter, natter. And while I was, for a while enchanted, what I really wanted was for Uncle Calvin to come down and play wiffleball with me in the basement! I know my sister Margaret sent Heather a picture of Uncle Calvin and I playing chess, but wiffleball was really much more my game.
“Come on!” I would entreat. “Just let us finish this last cup of coffee.” They would reply. What I failed to realize was that these to two liberal arts scholars had mastered the intricacies of quantum mechanics’ alternate universes – their coffee cups would never be emptied!
That playfulness, humor and generosity were themes oft repeated in the stories my fellow 2nd generationers sent to me. As Uncle Calvin traveled the world, teaching and studying in Germany, he would return with dolls and other mysterious gifts for his nieces and nephew in Mundelein, Illinois – just a few hours up the road. And like whiffle ball in the basement, he would get down on the floor with them to join in the play.
Then, to steal a movie title: Calvin met Ginny. My sister Margaret recalls that he squired her over to Springfield, Ohio to meet us in a convertible! How cool was that! Eventually they gifted us all with his greatest present, our dear little cousin Heather
As Calvin’s primary focus expanded to include house and home, our relationship with him inevitably changed - different but still wonderful. I remember an earlier but significant transitional moment – on my 13th birthday he gave me a copy of his book Existence and Freedom. I doubt he seriously expected me to understand it at that point in time, but perhaps he realized that many years down the road his later work “Communicative Praxis and the Space of Subjectivity” would make him a star in my discipline, Communication, and how proud I would be to sit with my brilliant Uncle at our national conventions, sharing a bourbon while the big names in the field would stop and point with envy.
But perhaps more wonderful was the fact that outside the academic spotlight “Herr Professor Schrag” remained the open, honest, funny, and approachable uncle we had always known. My sister Margaret, academic advisor to the student athletes at Northwestern for 40+ years, remembers her playful competition with him when her Wildcats would meet his Purdue Boilermakers on some athletic field. My wife Christine and I made it a point to seek out a favorite gasthaus of his in Heidelberg and raise a glass of weiss wine in his honor.
And we all remember him as the source of “deep background” family history. Stories about our fathers that they often chose not to share. He would regale us with those tales that somehow made “Dakota” even more of a “home place” than it had previously been. Cousin Judy fondly recalls when he took her and her kin on a magical Christmas trip to NYC, and while the youngsters enjoyed Rockefeller Center she savored precious conversation time with Uncle Calvin.
And precious conversation was, I think, a core gift that Uncle Calvin possessed. It did not matter if you were an academic press editor, a Ph.D candidate, or his youngest niece or nephew – when he talked with you, you were the entire focus. Yes, he might sigh, close his eyes and lean back for a moment. But when he opened them again, you realized it was because he was thinking about you and your conversation. So wonderful. So very special.
So, were we able to glimpse that higher plane of existence where Uncle Calvin now holds forth, we would no doubt behold the great philosophers of days gone by, Hegel, Kant, even Plato and Aristotle, seeking a word with the new kid on the block. But they would find him chatting with his brothers, and would have to learn, as we did, to wait until they finished one last cup of coffee.
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