On Thursday, October 6, 2011, Gary Schenk, long-time (43 years) Naples High School boys soccer coach passed away. Living 2000 miles away from my former high school, I haven't exactly seen Mr. Schenk really recently, but he's one of those people who makes an impression, and in honor of him, I'd like to share some of my memories and thoughts.
Obviously, Mr. Schenk didn't coach me. I didn't play for the boys' soccer team. But he's one of those ever-present parts of Naples (maybe the MOST ever present part of Naples) that affects everyone. Sharing a soccer field with the boys' team, those of us on the girls' teams certainly got to see (and hear) plenty of Mr. Schenk as he ran across the field with his boys, wearing those little green shorts and reminding his players to "ENGAGE THE BRAIN!" And since he was the boys' high school PE teacher in a school district that K-12 had just over 1000 students when I graduated, of course everyone knew him.
I have always associated Mr. Schenk with my grandfather (Bill Boyle)--not in the sense that he was a grandpa to me, since I didn't know him that well, but a connection to my grandfather that I didn't really have. Grandpa Boyle died when I was 17 months old, so I don't have any memories of him. But before he died, he was pretty much the entire sports department over at the Daily Messenger (local newspaper office), and since Mr. Schenk coached for 43 years, he and Grandpa Boyle knew each other. And maybe that's just a small connection, but it was always neat for me, knowing that Mr. Schenk knew (and respected, as far as I know), my grandpa. And it mattered to me that someone remembered my grandpa, and that I got the chance to be known as Bill Boyle's granddaughter. And, I think the fact that Coach Schenk liked me made me feel like if my grandpa had lived longer, he would have liked who I grew up to be, too.
When Karolyn (one of my younger sisters, if you don't know) got married before I did, Mr. Schenk happened to make a comment about that; he kinda laughed and said, "Oh, she got married first, huh?" And probably anybody else would have gotten at very least a VERY dirty look (or, at most, knocked flat on their butts), but it was okay coming from Mr. Schenk. Why? Well, for starters, he knew which one I was. Growing up in a family of seven kids (five girls), I've gotten a lot of "Oh, you're one of the Perry girls. Which one?" or "There are too many of you to keep track of" or just being called the wrong name. But Mr. Schenk, five years AFTER I'd graduated high school and moved to Utah, knew which one I was. And I also knew he didn't mean it as a judgement, or like there was something wrong with me, or anything like that. I think maybe it was just his way of stating a fact and then dealing with it--a fact's a fact and you move forward.
And one of the reasons I will always love Mr. Schenk: In 2000, the year I graduated and the year he retired from teaching (but not from coaching), he was our Commencement speaker at graduation...and I had to speak, too. As I was walking up to the podium to give my speech, my National Honor Society and Regents and Honors sashes slipped off my shoulder and down to the ground. (I hadn't even thought to bring a pin to keep them in place.) Embarrassed, I hurriedly picked them up and put them back in place, but I kept walking (I guess hoping no one would notice I'd just dropped all my stuff...not exactly logical, but whatever.) Well, I walked right into the microphone, which only added to my humiliation. I gave my speech--and even threw in a little joke about the difficulties of making it to the microphone--but when I headed back to my seat, which of course was in the FRONT row, facing my entire community, I started crying. Not little, dainty tears. Huge sobs. At 17, this was the most embarrassing moment of my LIFE. Well, good old Mr. Schenk, as he came up to give his speech, detoured over to me, to give me a hug and a kiss and tell me, "It's your party, you can cry if you want to." And that's why Gary Schenk matters, why a community will love him forever. Because whether you're his star player, or a former student, or a girl who just experienced her most embarrassing moment, he was the type of man who would pay attention to you and help you in anyway he could.
And so, Coach Schenk, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for noticing me and caring about me.
