The Rt. Rev. William E. Swing with The Hon. George P. Shultz and Dame Charlotte Mailliard Shultz
One Hundredth Birthday of George Pratt Shultz - December 13, 2020
First of all and most of all, Happy Birthday, George!
When I was a boy in West Virginia, I made an American Legion baseball team. Got a uniform and bought my spikes. Being the shortest, weakest, youngest boy on the team, my main job was to sit on the bench. But the time came. It was the last inning, the big boys were throwing the ball really fast, and our team was one run down with two runners on base and two outs. Shockingly in this heavy drama, our manager looked down the bench and signaled me to pinch hit.
The flame-throwing, large pitcher sent one strike and three balls past me. With one more ball, I could trot down to first base and escape this moment of consequence. Came the next pitch. High and outside. A walk for sure. But the umpire was my uncle, Blackie Clegg. He yelled, “Strike two.”
I turned around and said, “Blackie, you know that was a ball.” Blackie stiffened and said, “Hit the ball, Billy.” I realized that I wasn’t going to get out of that batter’s box without taking my best shot.
Here’s the truth and here’s the point. The truth is that I grounded out to the second baseman. Game over. The point: if you are lucky, there are a few people in your life who are not going to let you get by unless you do your very best.
What Blackie Clegg was to my earlier years, George Shultz, you have been in my later years.
Sitting in your den with your academic buddies talking about a symposium on the life and work of Andrei Sakharov, you turned to me and said, “Bill, why don’t you write a paper on Sakharov?” I guessed that Andrei was a Russian.
Sitting upstairs at a hall at Stanford listening to experts talk about nuclear weapons for two days, I almost escaped without saying a word when you stopped everything and asked me publicly, “Bill, what do you think?”
You were sitting beside the caviar table at Dede Wilsey’s Christmas Party, and you said to me, “URI needs more visibility. Why don’t we use the new Hoover building and put on a major conference?” Quality input and quality output followed.
I could go on and on as preachers do. Instead I will merely and lavishly thank you for believing in me, for calling out the best that I have to give. For expecting me to “Hit the ball, Billy.” Everyone needs someone in their corner, and I am grateful that you have been in mine.
William E. Swing