Many of you have reached out to me personally after the death of my mother Anne Harker Dayton last week. For that, I am very grateful. I also am so appreciative of the support I received from my KDKA Radio family and Audacy. The number of co-workers who attended the calling hours and funeral from KDKA-TV was impressive and much appreciated as well.
For those of you who may not have ever known my mom, I want to share a portion of the eulogy I delivered at her funeral on Saturday morning. She had an enormous impact on me becoming the journalist I am today. Let me explain.
When I finished writing and editing the obituary for this remarkable woman, I wanted people to know about my mother’s death and about arrangements for the funeral service. So I posted it on Twitter, then shared it on Facebook. While I have a good number of followers, I can’t believe how many people knew and loved my mom.
Here are a few of my observations. As a nod to my mother’s love of literature and the written word, let me start with what Charles Dickens and I call “A Tale of Two Cities:”
Yvonne Sacripant Bland, a Grove City College alum and former Robert Morris University Professor wrote: “Your mom will always represent the essence of Grove City -- town and gown.” She’s right. My mother was equally loyal to her alma mater and her beloved town. Or perhaps I should say towns plural.
I spoke with Grove City Mayor Randy Riddle last night. And Slippery Rock Mayor Jondavid Longo sent me a message saying, “So sorry for your loss, sir. Slippery Rock holds you and your family in thought and prayer.”
So who exactly was this teacher – this woman with two degrees in History – yet ultimately taught English for a living?
A high school classmate said it this way: “She was a great and passionate teacher...just spoke of my trip to Oxford University with her and (your sister) Betsy within the last week.”
A Grove City College professor penned these words: “To say I’m in tears and heartbroken is an understatement. I adored your mother and will forever be grateful for her influence in my life. My deepest sympathies to you and your family on the loss of this incredible woman.”
Dr. Mark Ellison is a Chemistry professor at Ursinus College in eastern Pennsylvania. He has a B.S. in chemistry from the University of Pittsburgh and a Ph.D. in physical chemistry from Stanford University. Mark wrote “Thank you for sharing the obituary. There was so much I didn't know about her. I remember her as being super smart, but I had no idea about some of the things she accomplished. A Fullbright Scholar! Taught at Oxford! What an amazing person.”
From Florida came the words, “I knew your mom and dad from our time at East Main (Presbyterian Church in Grove City.) You mom always carried herself with class and dignity.”
A man named Christian offered this tender note. “I am sorry to hear of you amazing Mom’s passing. I am forever grateful for both her and your Dad opening up their home for me to stay with them for a season, and their love and compassion to serve others.”
Another said, “I was just talking about your parents to my daughter today. They served their community even in the midst of their own struggles.”
Or this -- “What a beautiful heart and soul she had and was always using it for the benefit of others!”
Greg Myford is now Director of Athletics at University of Alaska Anchorage. He recalled, “She imprinted a lot of lives, Rick. Mrs. Dayton was always the substitute teacher that made it clear her job was to TEACH us, not simply watch the class until the “regular” teacher returned. I’ve always appreciated and remembered that.”
Charles Hughes agreed, “So sorry to hear of your Mom's passing, Rick. No study halls when Mrs. Dayton was the substitute teacher. Didn't matter if it was 4th year Spanish, geometry, or history.”
Suzanne Hughes now owns Key West Island Bookstore in the Florida Keys: “Your mom was a truly impressive woman. So kind, genuine and so very smart. I remember in school if she was the substitute teacher, we were NOT having study hall. No matter the subject, she taught the lesson, usually more engaging than the regular teacher. But her kindness is what I truly remember.”
Bob Mulvihill, ornithologist at the National Aviary in Pittsburgh told me, “What an impressive student of life she must have been.”
People loved her smile.
One woman wrote, “Your mom was always so polite and kind....always with that beautiful smile.”
In just three days, my tweet about my mother’s death had more than 97 thousand impressions. Those who know my mom aren’t the least bit surprised. She had many fans.
It was more than a social media snowball this week. The phone rang – a lot. On Thursday, a call came to my cell phone from one of the members of Slippery Rock University family.
George Mihalik was head coach at SRU from 1988-2016. He won 197 games in his 28 years as head coach. At his retirement, Coach Mihalik was fourth among all active NCAA Division II head coaches for career wins. His name is on the Slippery Rock Football Stadium.
I refer to Coach Mihalik and my mother as Slippery Rock University’s Odd Couple. It wasn’t like Tony Randall and Jack Klugman, but it was close.
My mother, a member of the English Department at Slippery Rock, and Coach Mihalik from the Department of Health Sciences and Physical Education, shared an office in the early 80’s. The young bright-eyed coach watched my mom interact with students and advisees enough during office hours that he asked her for advice on how to be a better professor. Anyone who knows my mom, knows she wasn’t shy about offering her opinion. I have heard rumors that there have been times when she offered her opinion even if someone didn’t ask.
Coach gave permission to share this with you. He maintains it was her guidance that allowed him to survive, and ultimately thrive at Slippery Rock for nearly three decades. She offered things from a veteran’s perspective that molded him. “Even when she wasn’t in the classroom,” coach said, “she was teaching me. I learned from her personally and professionally.”
But that was really just the beginning of their relationship. When Coach Mihalik’s players or advisees struggled in one of her classes, he asked her why his kid wasn’t doing well. Don’t ask for her opinion if you didn’t want the bare-knuckles truth. “I will tell you why he’s not doing well. He’s not coming to class.” But before he could respond she said, “Now let’s get him straightened up. Tell him to come to my office, and we will get it fixed.”
Coach concluded with, “Your mom never threw away a young life because of something they did – or didn’t do. She wanted to help. She refused to give up. She would hold out her hand to help them get up.”
Coach then handed the phone to his wife Laura. I didn’t know it, but Laura knew my mom through the academic honorary Delta Kappa Gamma. They were two of the representatives on the Slippery Rock side of a group that included many Grove City College supporters, professors, and administrators. Laura said she always admired the way my mom was steadfastly proud of where she worked. Despite her lineage and pedigree at Grove City College, she was fiercely loyal to the green and white of SRU as much as she loved the Wolverines.
I was probably 15 or 16 years old when I thought my world was ending. It was devastating. I wasn’t sure I could go on. Something so horrible happened at school – or on the bus – or at work – but something so crushing that to this day I can’t even talk about it. That’s because I have no idea what caused so much anxiety.
But I know my mother’s council came in the words of an anonymous poet typed on something not much larger than the paper found inside a Chinese fortune cookie. It simply read:
“Success is failure turned inside out
You never know how close you are
It may be near when it seems afar
So stick to the fight when you are hardest hit
It’s when times seem worst that you must not quit.”
I can’t tell you how many times I looked at what eventually became a tattered, shriveled piece of paper that I carried in my wallet. It was so frayed and worn. It eventually fell apart. But by then, the words shared by my mother had been written on my heart. I knew them forward and backward. I relied on them during college in Ohio. After Jenny and I were married and our three sons were born, I often shared the familiar phrases with them. I used the poem during a Commencement speech to the 2010 graduates at Grove City High School.
But I suspect words of wisdom my mother shared had the most impact when I recited the poem to a group of women from an organization called POWER in Pittsburgh. POWER helps hard-core, inner city women battle though addiction. They help the ladies with professional counseling, career advice, resume building, and mentorship. For years, I was emcee for their annual fashion show where 8 or 10 of the ladies volunteered to model business attire to show the group what they should wear to job interviews. At the end of the event, they asked me to give some advice or encouragement to the ladies. I never needed notes as I recited the words my mother gave me decades before.
Fast forward several years. I bumped into a volunteer from POWER who had seen me speak to at their functions countless times. She commented about how many times she heard from their clients about “the guy with the poem,” and how it made a difference in their lives.
That in a nutshell was my mom’s wisdom. A tiny piece of paper she handed me on the steps of our house in Grove City late one evening ended up in my wallet. It travelled with me to Ohio, Michigan, North Carolina, back to Ohio, then Pittsburgh. But most importantly, when it was needed most, it went straight to the heart of a women who needed to hear that “when times are worst, you must not quit.”
I want to finish with my personal statement about the indelible mark my mom made on me – and ultimately how those lessons have served me well -- as a television and radio journalist.
With apologies to my first grade teacher Ann Stinson, it was my mom who taught me how to read.
It was my mom who taught me how to write – and not just forming my letters.
It was my mom who knew I could be a better writer, and she pushed me to improve.
It was my mom who encouraged me to learn better words to communicate my thoughts.
It was my mom who was the reason I love to learn.
It was my mom who is a big reason I am so curious. I KNOW learning doesn’t stop when you stop going to school.
It was my mom who encouraged me to spend so much of my life trying to find the answers.
It was my mom who taught me how to ask hard, but fair, questions.
It was my mom who taught me there is a difference between further and farther – and that apart means “separated,” while a part is a portion of something larger.
Those are things I never thought twice about when I was on the air. Never during a breaking news story. Never while appearing on live TV. Never while anchoring a story. Never while writing a script. Never while doing play-by-play at the Final Four or while on a golf course covering a PGA Tour event. Proper grammar, subject/verb agreement, and a general love for the English language were ingrained around the kitchen table from the time I first babbled the word “mama.”
For those reasons -- and a million more -- I say “Thank you mom. I love you and always will.”
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