Commitment: Remembering Harry Chapin

A few weeks ago, my son posted his first article on LinkedIn. He referenced a comment the great humanitarian and folk singer Harry Chapin made about his grandfather. While I was exceptionally proud of my son for taking the time and making the effort to post an article, I was even more pleased to have introduced him to Harry Chapin and the body of his work. 

As a parent, you never know what things stick, and quite frankly, I was amazed that Harry had made the impression he had. 

In my life, aside from the usual and well-publicized suspects (MLK, Kennedy, Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, etc.) few, if any people have spent their entire lives putting their money where there mouth is like Harry Chapin. Two others come to mind—Pete Seeger and Jimmy Carter. 

What made me think about Harry today was an email I received from my company this morning celebrating the collection of over 460 cans of food for the Christmas Food Drive. While such an event was noteworthy and truly a very good thing, it brought to mind some comments he made about Thanksgiving food drives: 

“Thanksgiving. Remember, junior high school, high school, elementary school? ‘Everybody bring in your cans for the hungry people.’ Remember that? Just imagine if somebody, when you were in fifth or sixth grade, if the principal had the gonads to say on Monday, ‘Children, it was the most single, wonderful outpouring of generosity that the school has ever seen. More cans of food feeding hundred and ninety three families came to this school than every before. We only have one problem and we’re going to deal with it this coming week. We’re gonna cancel our regular classes and what we’re gonna talk about is ‘What are those people gonna eat next week?’ Now, doesn’t that sounds like a sensible educational system that dealt with those kinds of questions?” 

Not to denigrate my company’s efforts on the food drive (it was a great effort), but Harry Chapin always brought us directly to the hard stuff and made us answer the tough question: Are you willing to commit? 

Sadly, for most of us, the best we feel we can do is bring in a few cans of food a couple of times a year. 

Not Harry. 

For the last several years of his life, Harry Chapin was a beacon of light in the cause of World Hunger. Every year, he and his band did half their concerts for themselves and half for causes, literally opting out of 50% of their earnings possibilities. Who do you know today that would even consider such a thing? 

Not many. 

I was introduced to Harry Chapin by a 3M sales representative, (coincidentally named Marilyn Meyer McCollum). In the early seventies she called on Baptist Hospital of Miami and told me about not only Harry Chapin, but Jimmy Buffet as well. For that I could never thank her enough. 

Harry’s first record of note, Taxi, was a tale of compromise and lost dreams. His story songs were often dark, even bordering on hopelessness (A Better Place to Be), but they were literary masterpieces set to music, and their themes made you think. 

Then there was Harry himself—big, burly, rough-hewn. How could a dude that looked like a lumberjack be so thoughtful and soulful? 

Over the years, Harry’s songs have stayed with me. It seems that once Harry gets into your head, he’s there for the rest of your life.

Harry’s songs became a huge part of my life, and when he died suddenly as a result of a heart attack/car accident (on the way to another free benefit concert) in July of 1981, I was devastated. I remember going into my office, closing the door, sitting down and crying. 

That’s the kind of mark Harry Chapin made on people’s lives. 

Two days ago would have been Harry’s 74th birthday. He was born exactly one year after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. I saw an article about Harry that said we should celebrate December 7 as Harry Chapin Day, and while I understand that December 7 will always be remembered as a Day of Infamy, I will always try to remember that something good happened on that date as well.

When I think of Harry, I will always think of the term, “Commitment.” It reminds me of an old stry about the hen and the pig in the barnyard. 

The hen said to the pig, “Farmer Jones has always been great to us. He feeds us well, keeps our pens clean and makes our lives great. We ought to ante up and give him a breakfast of ham and eggs.”  

“Easy for you to say,” said the pig. “For you, the idea represents only a moment of discomfort. For me it represents a total commitment.” 

Harry was always prepared to make the total commitment.

Thanks Harry!