I miss my dad.  He has been slipping away for years, now, slowly covered by layer after layer of the shadow of Alzheimers.  My dad is a vital force in my life.  I frequently reflect on the fact that he is largely responsible for my foundation of self-confidence, my love of beautiful things, my belief that being deeply spiritual and highly intellectual can co-exist in the same person harmoniously, and that kindness and gentleness is the best policy.

My dad's being is vibrant and clear.  He is truly a great man.  Educated at Yale, Union Theological Seminary and Stanford, he pursued a life goal of bringing education to the masses--making it available for anyone at any stage of life.  He was researching distance education decades before the internet existed, and now, as I see his dream being realized through organizations like KhanAcademy.org (where my homeschooling son learns math) and Western Governor's University (where my sister assists students around the country in accomplishing their coursework and earning a degree), I wish he was here to see it, too.  I wish he could rejoice in the advancements of the field he championed, and talk with me about what is best in class.

Dad found so many things to be excited about and grateful for.  A smile was his signature expression.  He would frequently give a whoop and punch the air to express his joy in seeing one of us kids, or celebrate a success we shared with him. His exuberance sometimes embarrassed me as a child--surely adults should be more staid--but I loved it, too.  His excitement about life, about people, and about me, was a great window with which to see the world.  Dad was amazing, and if he thought I was amazing, too, then it must be so.  Dad was free with his praise, and loved to point out the positive about everything and everyone around him.  He was a Dale Carnegie man, and lived the principles faultlessly.

John Olin Campbell III ~1955

JOC III _1965

Olin Campbell family ~ 1990

Dad loved finding the intersection of truth and beauty.  He often took us camping and hiking, and would point out the delicate details around us.  Photography was his art form and his eye captured beauty all around, whether it was a laughing child, an awe-inspiring landscape, a gathering of friends, or a trick of light.  Dad sought to embrace and make permanent that resplendence.

He collected beautiful objects, too.  His collection sat for years atop a low filing cabinet in his study--an archive of his admiration.  I remember particular pieces of the collection: an open geode, a ceramic sphere, hollow and glazed so it resembled a planet.  There was a chime, which lay horizontal, suspended by wires.  It's beauty was in the piercingly sweet sound it made and sustained when struck.  He had blown glass pieces and a birds nest created in reverse in a piece of clear acrylic.  There was a beautiful white stone bowl, which sang when struck and rubbed with a rubber ball.  Among the collection were items we children had contributed, too, as our own sense of beauty grew.  It was always an honor to have a gift placed among Dad's treasured things.

Olin and Janet Campbell ~ 2003

Olin with grandchildren ~2007