Recently, I was told of the passing of Gerard Wilson. The news caused me pause, to reflect on some earlier moments in my life. I suddenly felt a need to examine the deeper and more fundamental meaning of things. Of course, once you enter your ninth decade (turn 80), most of your total life’s moments are in the past. Memories, not hopes, suddenly are what constitutes one’s personal narrative. And reflection on what might be important substitutes for the frantic pursuit of what typically is considered success.

So, who is this Gerard Wilson, you might ask? He was no one important on the public stage, gaining neither fame nor notoriety in any larger sense. But I suspect he touched many without even being aware of that fact. He represents, I sense as I think about him and so many others like him, one of those anonymous persons who leave a distinct footprint in life without much ado and certainly absent a full appreciation of what they had done. That, in truth, is the fate of most of us. Hopefully, we can leave small footprints without acclaim nor credit.

He was known as George to those of us who knew him back in the 1960s. He was a member of India 44-B, a rather ill-fated Peace Corps group who served as so-called agricultural ‘experts’ in rural Rajasthan, India, a northwest desert province bordering on Pakistan. India was a tough PC assignment, made more difficult by virtue of the fact that we in India 44-B were urban college graduates who knew nothing about farming. Let me assert that a little bit of training does not make you an expert. Of the large assembly of eager college volunteers on day 1 of training in 1966, only about a dozen completed two years of service. This placement was not for the faint of heart.

We all went our separate ways when our tour finished in 1969. I only saw George once after that … in 2011. Those who served in India 44-B (and India 44-A with whom we trained) had gathered in Washington D.C. for the 50th anniversary of the creation of the Peace Corps by executive order of President Kennedy in 1961. In fact, thousands of ex-volunteers had gathered in the Capitol to celebrate the program and what it meant to them. The Embassy of India feted those who had served on the sub-continent, and a celebratory march of thousands of former volunteers was held at the Lincoln memorial. On that march, George held the banner for our group and those who had served in India.

In some ways, George represented us perfectly. He was idealistic and tried to give back to society. Before volunteering for India, George was raised in New York and graduated from Fordam University. On finishing his PC service, he earned a masters degree from the University of Southern California in diplomatic studies before embarking upon a career with the U.S. State Department. He served in places like Senegal and Iran, assignments for which India might have been good preparation. Though he never talked about it, he was rotated out of Tehran just before the 1979 hostage takeover by radical Islamic students. That would have earned him 15 minutes of fame in a horrific way.

In some ways, George was like many (virtually all) in my group. We were all exceptionally smart, highly educated, and instilled with a sense of duty to others. Yet, even among this group of high achievers, George was special. He had a quiet authority about him, seldom seeking the limelight yet impacting others when he did speak. Upon hearing the news of his passing, another volunteer (Mike) shared the following vignette. I did my final training in an Indian village with George and Bill. The reality of India was getting to me, and my eagerness to serve was seriously flagging. I asked George, ‘do you think this is worth it?’ His response was immediate … ‘absolutely, this is an incedible adventure.’ Mike decided to stay and subsequently served his two years.

And there lies the epiphany I associate with the news of his passing, especially as others commented on what he meant to them. He touched others in a quiet manner and without fanfare. In the end, you don’t need 15 minutes of fame to make a mark. You simply need to be genuine and to care. George was and did. And he is remembered.