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From the Gospel of John, 15: 10-1310 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.
Good morning.
The Chapel talk I am sharing this morning is an adaptation of one I gave four years ago, in the fall of 2020. If you think back to that time—Seniors, you were in 8th grade, Freshmen, you were still in the Lower School—you’ll recall that we had just come back to school in person, having been away and under remote learning since March of 2020. We were finding our way through the pandemic, before a vaccine had been developed and as many people were still sick and suffering from COVID.
Seniors, I don’t expect you to remember this talk, but many of you heard it as 8th graders, out on Knowles Field, when we were holding Chapel outdoors. I know we are all so grateful to have that period of our lives behind us. It’s a good reminder not to take our daily blessings for granted and to enjoy each day and each moment here together, in community and in brotherhood.
I think Mr. Churchwell and Mr. Westermann have done a masterful job this week of calling on us to live up to the better angels within each of us. On Tuesday, Mr. Churchwell spoke of the need for civility, as offered in the Baptismal Covenant, and to respect the differences and innate value each of us brings to this community. On Wednesday, September 11, Mr. Westermann reminded us of our capacity, as Saints and as Americans, to unite in goodness and in sacrifice. He showed us, through the selfless example of Welles Crowther, what true heroism and courage can look like. While we don’t want any of you to risk your lives in doing it, we call on you to “do a little good every day,” just as we pray in A Boy’s Prayer.
Today I am going to tell you about one of our most important and heroic alumni, Jack Williams, Class of 1919. His story is a dramatic one. Like Welles Crowther, I don’t want you to emulate his example precisely, but I do hope you will be inspired by it.
John Langbourne Williams II, or Jack, as he was known to his friends, is an alumnus of St. Christopher’s. Sadly, he is not a graduate of St. Christopher’s. He attended our school for five years, from 1913 to 1918, but he did not graduate from our school, as he should have, in June of 1919. As a result, Jack is an alumnus, but not a graduate.
Here is a photo of Jack Williams, taken 106 years ago, in 1918. He was 15 years old when this photo was taken. Looking at it, you might conclude that Jack was a soldier, and that it was his military service that ultimately prevented him from graduating with his classmates in 1919. That is not the case, though we may well think of Jack as a solider, perhaps fittingly a Christian soldier, referencing the hymn we sang together moments ago.
That same hymn, “Onward, Christian Soldiers,” was the opening hymn of the 1918 Commencement program at our school, the final Commencement program that Jack would know.
In order to understand Jack’s story, we must first understand the context of Jack’s world, both at home in Richmond and across the globe, just over a century ago.
In 1918, the most devastating global conflict then known to humankind, what was then called the Great War and is now referred to as World War I, had been raging throughout much of Europe for four years. By 1918 that conflict involved well over a dozen countries, including the United States and nearly all of Europe.
At the exact same time as this global conflict there occurred one of the most lethal pandemics ever known to humankind, likely second only to the Black Death of the 14th Century in terms of global mortality.
It came to be known as the Spanish Flu, something of a misnomer as we now know that the virus likely did not originate in Spain. The influenza outbreak of 1918 infected 1/3 of the world’s population and killed more than 50 million people, more than double the number of total deaths caused by the Great War.
In this photo of Jack Williams, you may notice that his attire, which is a military uniform, is quite different from how St. Christopher’s students dress one century later. Jack would not have dressed in this manner every school day, but he and nearly every boy of proper age at what was then called the Chamberlayne School in 1918, to become St. Christopher’s School just two years later, would have been part of the Chamberlayne Cadet Corps, a youth military training group consisting of both students and faculty who routinely drilled and prepared for military exercises.
This is a picture of the Chamberlayne Cadet Corps marching through downtown Richmond, led by Jack Williams, in March of 1918 as part of a War Savings Parade.
On the table here I have a photo of the Chamberlayne Cadet Corps taken one month before, in February of 1918. The building that you see in the top left corner was then a brand-new gymnasium. It is now our aged and beloved Chapel.
In June of 1918, during the School’s Commencement exercises of his junior year, Jack was awarded the Bryan Prize for Leadership, honoring his high character and scholarship. In fact, Jack was the very first recipient of this award, which, for over a century now, has been considered the highest form of recognition in our Upper School. Our last three Bryan Prize winners have been Jack Ireland, Nick Manetas, and Captain Worrell. Jack’s Bryan Prize is on the table here.
In addition to being a fine scholar, a student-athlete, and a leader in the Cadet Corps, Jack was active in his Boy Scout troop, often volunteering for various service causes along with his fellow scouts.
By the fall of 1918, even as the Great War was coming to a close, the Influenza pandemic was raging around the world. In Richmond alone, nearly 1,000 people died from the flu, with thousands more infected.
On Saturday, October 5, 1918, the Chamberlayne School joined all day schools in the city of Richmond in closing due to the pandemic.The day school would remain closed for nearly six weeks, until the armistice that ended World War One went into effect on November 11, 1918.
From St. Christopher’s alumnus Jack McElroy, Class of 1949, and his son, Mac McElroy, Class of 1979, who are Jack Williams’ nephew and great nephew, respectively, we have this letter that young Jack Williams penned to a girlfriend who was then a student at Oldfields boarding school in Baltimore.
The letter was written in early October 1918, likely just after the Chamberlayne School had been closed because of the flu. It’s a touching letter, four pages written in cursive, by a 15-year-old boy. Here is an excerpt—
“Mother and Father have just finished blowing me up for working all day yesterday in a big school which the city has turned into an influenza hospital. Hereafter I don’t crave stretcher bearing. You see some awfully sad cases, one I noticed especially. There was a poor little orphan boy, three years old, not a friend in the world, brought to the hospital by a man who left the poor little boy alone with strange doctors and nurses. His name was ‘Jack,’ that was all, and he had light hair and blue eyes. Probably his name attracted me, but I think anybody would have been touched, regardless of names, had they seen this poor little boy, stricken with a bad case of pneumonia, gazing with tearful eyes upon a crowd of bemasked doctors and nurses. Spanish ‘flu’ is no respecter of persons and people of all races, nationalities, and walks of life. My ambulance hauled nine people from one family.”
You see, starting that fall of 1918, at age 15, Jack had been—against his parents’ wishes—volunteering with his Boy Scout troop, transporting sick flu patients from their homes to John Marshall High School, which had been converted into an emergency hospital for the city.
Tragically, not too long after Jack wrote this letter, and very likely after additional acts of volunteerism transporting sick patients, Jack himself contracted the virus, on or around October 11, 1918. Just five days later, at 3 p.m. on October 16, 1918, John Langbourne Williams II died at his parents’ home on West Franklin Street.
The Chamberlayne School opened in full several weeks later, on November 11, but there was a pall of sadness cloaking the School.
Dr. Chamberlayne, our school’s founding headmaster, in a column that he wrote for the October 25, 1918 Pine Needle, captured the essence of Jack and the effect of his death with eloquence.
Dr. Chamberlayne wrote, “In the death of Jack Williams the School has suffered an incalculable loss… On the outbreak of the present epidemic he volunteered, and was accepted, for work among the stricken. His service, though short, was effective—‘he saved others,’ but like the Master in whose steps he followed with unquestioning faith, himself he did not save. A short illness—only five days—and then through peaceful sleep he entered into the presence of his Maker.”
In the final paragraph of that tribute, Dr. Chamblerayne concluded, “Separated from us for a little while he may be, but gone from us he can never be. Living now in the presence of his Lord and King, he is also living and will live in our memories; and though dead he yet speaks, and will continue throughout our lives to speak, inspiring tones to us all.”
“And though dead he yet speaks…”
The next time you enter the front entrance of Chamberlayne Hall and you walk up the steps to the main corridor, look up, above the doorway, and you will see a plaque in memory of Dr. Chamberlayne, who died in 1939, nearly 30 years after he founded this school. At the bottom, you will notice the line, “He, being dead, yet speaketh.”
What do we make of all this? Of war, flu, death, and the early years of our school? And how do we view this history in light of our busy and modern lives in 2024, several years removed from our own pandemic crucible?
While I cannot fully answer those questions for you, I hope you will consider them for yourself here in Chapel or in the days ahead. However, I keep Jack’s artifacts in my office—this photo, his cap, his Bryan Prize, and his sword, purposely, and they remind me daily of the following—
Number one--Life is short; it is fragile, and we do not know what tomorrow brings. Therefore, we should make the most of the limited time we have together. Just as Mr. Churchwell and Mr. Westermann urged us to do, we should be swift to love and make haste to be kind, all in service of humanity.
Number two--Individual acts and choices do matter, and young people, each of you, can make a positive difference in this world. I wonder how many lives young Jack Williams saved by transporting sick patients to a makeshift hospital. How many lives has he touched and inspired, now over a century after his death?
Each of you, gentleman, has a chance to do a little good every single day. It does not have to be dramatic or life saving—being kind, helpful, positive, and honest is more than enough.
Several years ago, as I was conducting research on Jack Williams, I visited his gravesite. He is buried at Hollywood Cemetery, next to his parents. If you look closely at the front of Jack’s Celtic cross marking his grave, at the very bottom, you will find a passage from the Gospel of John, read by Owen this morning:
“Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” May God bless Jack Williams, St. Christopher’s School, and each of you. Amen.