Eulogy for the Rev. S. George “Doc” Dirghalli
Eulogy for the Reverend S. George Dirghalli
November 19, 2016
By Kevin O’Neill | Former Staff Member
Editor’s Note: The following is the entire eulogy Kevin O’Neill wrote for at Doc Dirghalli’s memorial service. At the service he only shared certain portions of it due to time limitations.
Today, these pews are filled with the spirits of thousands of Lambda Chi Alpha brothers who wish they could be here, to stand and testify that Doc lives on in their hearts because he was a source of good in the world and a positive impact on their life. But let me tell you who is here, because it gives you a sense of what our brother meant to us all. The national fraternity’s top elected leader, the Grand High Alpha is here – he holds the position Doc held 30 years ago. Our executive vice president is here – he runs the fraternity day-to-day and builds on the accomplishments of Doc’s greatest generation of staff members in the 1950s. Our Educational Foundation president is here – he acquires and grows assets to strengthen our brotherhood and has a board Doc served on for years. But the real VIP brothers are elsewhere in the room.
There’s a brother here today, whose son was the very first child baptized by the Rev. S. George Dirghalli and three of the four children in that brother’s family would go on to have Doc preside at their weddings. The assistant officiant at today’s service is a brother from Hanover and someone whose path to the priesthood surely is related to Doc’s influence on him.
There’s a father and son team of brothers here from western Canada whose history with Doc spans decades. There are three brothers from his beloved Epsilon-Mu Zeta at the University of Florida, and brothers from his adopted chapters at Cornell and Syracuse. Overall, there are brothers from more than 20 chapters here to celebrate Doc’s life. Today, I will be all of our voices. All of our relationships with Doc were special and I hope to convey some of what made him such a beloved brother.
When you talk to fraternity brothers, one message shines through: Doc was the fraternity’s exemplar for six decades, a moral and unshakable lighthouse. Like our fraternity’s creed, Doc offered faith, hope and love to all who would listen – he was a torchbearer who taught thousands of men to follow in the light of Christ in their daily actions.
Now by the time I met him in 1988, Doc had already held every title worth having in Lambda Chi Alpha and he was already considered part of our Mount Rushmore. He had worked ten years on the professional staff in the 1950’s as Alumni Secretary, alongside Executive Director Duke Flad and Service Secretary George Spasyk. Those three men ARE the Mount Rushmore of the fraternity, and together they were the catalyst for Lambda Chi Alpha’s biggest period of growth. Lambda Chi gave Doc a graduate scholarship after he left staff to pursue his divinity degree at Harvard and Cambridge. He was on the Grand High Zeta for 14 years, including the time period when Lambda Chi Alpha took the revolutionary step of ending pledging and treating new members like men from day one. He had served on the Foundation board for years, to develop the resources to support new programs. For decades, Doc was but one of two brothers alive who could credibly claim to have worked closely with the first generation of founders of our fraternity and to be able to translate their vision into a powerful present and future. But when I met him, he was halfway into a 60-year run of his most important role as the inspirational moral center of a worldwide brotherhood of men. It’s that untitled role that we would hold for decades, until three weeks ago today, and it was his most important role.
I met Doc Dirghalli in the fall of 1988, about six months after I joined the Syracuse chapter of Lambda Chi Alpha. My Syracuse chapter had a life and death visit with an Educational Leadership Consultant named Bill Farkas and this old man named Dirghalli stopped by to hear Bill tell the chapter to shape up or be closed. By chance, he sat next to me on a ratty old couch in a rundown off-campus dump that was our temporary home. I was a mouthy sophomore, still only 18, and I don’t remember what I said at that meeting, but I am sure whatever it was it was loud. But at the end, this old man I had never met, leaned over and whispered to me “You will be President of this chapter come December and they will need you to be both a real leader and a real brother by then.” Before then, I wasn’t sure I should be in a fraternity, and I knew which other brother was due to be President, but that brother ultimately decided to go away for a semester for an internship and indeed three months after meeting Doc, I was the next chapter president just as he predicted.. With one remark a seed was planted that flowered and profoundly influenced every other major decision in my life to this day. It sounds extraordinary I know, but there are hundreds of brothers who can remember that quiet voice in their ear, planting a seed of hope, of faith, of love, a seed that would grow and flourish and set you on the right path, thanks to Doc. If you learned nothing else from Doc, you learn that one positive remark can change a person’s life for the better.
Doc had the ability to make everyone believe there was an inner circle they were a member of WITH him, but you could also end up in the wrong inner circle if you disappointed him.
I knew what is was to be a regular member of Doc’s famed “fecal roster” usually because, in his words, I was determined to do the right thing in exactly the wrong way. My first semester as president he came to the associate member ceremony for new members only to be hustled out under false pretenses so we could have a social event that might have violated the fraternity’s alcohol policy. As I drove him home, he said “Kev – do you think I am dumb? Or are you dumb for thinking you could fool me?” Right then, I realized that besides my parents and later my spouse, there was no one I wanted to please more than Doc, and that was the last time I ever lied to him.
When our new fraternity house opened in the spring of 1989, Doc and I cut the ribbon together and the engraved scissors have sat in my various work desks for the past 27 years. We can’t even count the number of chapter events around the country the last sixty years that were special precisely because Doc was literally in the house. If you had been to one of those events, you could feel it.
My chapter reached a pivotal point early in 1989 as we had critical need for an alumni advisor. Doc told me there was one brother I needed to seek out for the job and he told me not to screw it up because the person I was approaching was one of his favorite brothers. And indeed that brother was Brian Masters, who is here today, and he would go on to be the most important alumnus in our chapter’s development for the next decade. Doc was the leading catalyst in 1992 when Brain Masters when the General Fraternity gave Brian our Order of Merit, the highest award given to a member for volunteer work.
In the spring of 1991, the fraternity hired me to be an educational leadership consultant and I would go on to spend five years on the professional staff, which was the experience of a lifetime. Doc recommended me for the job and the running joke at the headquarters for five years was that I got the job only because he was in poor health at the time he recommended me and the Fraternity did not want to say No. The funny thing was that joke made me proud – proud that the best brother I knew thought enough of me to recommend me despite all my obvious shortcomings. There wasn’t a day I worked at 8741 Founders Road that I didn’t know my job was to live up to Doc’s expectations for who I might be some day, and I saw him do the same with many other men in their lives.
For the five years I was on staff, Doc would come to Indianapolis and spend the better part of a week training the new consultants and it was the most remarkable week for those brothers. Doc was able to reach deep into each of us and find the real man, the real brother within, to coax out higher expectations of ourselves, and to teach us to serve and sacrifice for others.
Multiple brothers wrote me this month about what it was like to sit and listen to Doc speak at a fraternity event, from chapter meetings to the international fraternity’s leadership seminar or General Assembly. He was mesmerizing, and everyone in the room knew Doc was talking just to them. At one leadership seminar when I was on staff, he gave out seeds and talked about how some of us have already grown 20-fold or 40-fold, but most of us had not yet found the ideal place for planting to grow to our true potential. I kept that seed in my desk for three years before I left staff and I know others who did the same.
My fellow staff members used to love to drive Doc to fraternity events because of the chance for one on one time full of bad jokes, bad food and unforgettable good times. Brother Michael Colocado spent several holidays at the Dirghalli while working for the fraternity and even got to take Doc on a road trip to Niagara Falls. Doc was the first person to call Michael when he got news his father had cancer. Of course you had to be careful driving the Dirghallis. Whenever brother Paul Ainsworth was driving Doc and Kira, Doc would point to Kira and tell Paul precious cargo was on board.
I always loved our time when he was in Indianapolis or at a national fraternity event. Every time I’m in Orlando, I pass a seafood restaurant on I-Drive where we had dinner before the 1992 General Assembly, just the two of us, to talk about my year on the road and my big new job at the headquarters, and what things I could do for people if only I would grow up and live up to his expectations. Yeah, I remember that talk quite well, though opinions may vary as to how much growing up I have done since then.
In the time I traveled for the fraternity, I would always run across the cult of Doc. I would be in Hanover, Indiana and be told “ you know our chapter has a special relationship with Doc, right?” You could go to McGill or Florida Southern or San Luis Obispo and hear the same thing from the chapter there. The guy had more special chapters than some national fraternities had total chapters. I can’t even tell you how many student members or alumni volunteers I would meet who would claim that same special relationship at a time when the internet didn’t exist and they were lucky to see Doc in person once a year. But the reality is, he did have an extraordinary ability to make an impression and forge a long-term relationship off of small words of wisdom. He was always planting seeds of success.
Doc had some great mannerisms. My favorites were the stroking of the beard, the Doc sneer, the mock angry face, the real angry face, the arched eyebrow, and his tendency to trail off a story with the phrase “and so forth and so forth and so forth.” For Seinfeld fans, it was Yada Yada Yada long before anyone knew what that was. He had nicknames for many of us. He loved a good joke, especially one that could needle someone he knew or loved, and he loved to be in the loop. He didn’t want gossip, he wanted to know what was happening in people’s lives and how they were making a difference. As he got older and traveled less, much of our relationship focused on me serving as a conduit for information about brothers far and wide from my chapter or the headquarters from my generation. He cared about a lot of people long after he stopped seeing or hearing from them regularly and he never stopped praying for us.
Doc had the intelligence and the people skills to do anything he set his mind to professionally. He did not live for place and power, he did not live for pleasure, he lived our fraternity’s open motto of helping every man become the best possible man they could be. Let me give you three examples I know are representative of how Doc tended his fraternal flock.
In the 70s, Doc once stopped what he was doing and flew to Arizona to spend three days with a former staffer, helping him process a painful divorce and chart a path forward in life that led to a second marriage and three beautiful kids. Thanks to Doc’s intervention, Tom Helmbock would right his life and serve as the fraternity’s CEO for a decade.
If you were having trouble conceiving, as brother Gene Murray and his wife did, Doc would find time to pray with you – they now have more kids than they can handle.
If you were CAM Wagner and in a three-round life and death fight with leukemia and it was clear death was going to win, Doc was there to make sure your faith never wavered and to comfort the brothers devastated by a brother taken too young.
If you were Todd Helton, a father stunned to see his 14-year-old daughter die of a brain aneurysm on the second day of high school in 2014, Doc was there saying Mass in Syracuse and asking his congregation to wear pink for Ellie, telling Todd – “For Ellie, life has not ended, it has simply CHANGED.”
If you were Andy Olenik and the worst moment of your life was having your son Charley die in childbirth, you would get a call on the day of the funeral. “Hello Andrewskin – as he called Andy – I am here.” Where, said Andy? “Here at the hotel downtown Lancaster, how do I get to your home?” He had driven seven hours unannounced to be with Andy in his time of need so Andy drove over, brought Doc to his home, where Doc spent hours with the Oleniks, talking, listening and supporting them.
Now, that’s a few examples but there are thousands of brothers who, in a moment of darkness and great need, discovered Doc bearing a torch and leading them back to the light of life.
Family
Let me switch to family for a moment. Patty and I lived in a basement for three years of law school and it was a time when money was often very tight. Part of my law school was paid out of the Lambda Chi Alpha Educational Foundation’s Doc Dirghalli scholarship fund, because he knew what it was like to leave the greatest job on earth in Indianapolis to pursue your calling in life. Every once in a while, out of the blue in law school, Doc sent us a little money, just enough to have dinner out a couple of times at some place without a drive-through window. I know we weren’t the only ones like that, and Patty and I repaid that debt to Doc’s foundation fund so another brother can go to grad school, and to this day we look to be the angel for a broke student every chance we get.
We’ve all been blessed to be a happy witness to the powerful love that is the Dirghalli family and the special relationship they have with our fraternity. The History of Lambda Chi Alpha published in 1992 noted that “we suspect that Kira, Beth and Stefan Dirghalli found it strange to have a vacation that did not involve Lambda Chi Alpha when Doc Dirghalli retired from the Grand High Zeta in 1982 after 14 years of service.” It wasn’t until we had families of our own that we appreciated all that the Dirghallis had to sacrifice with their husband and father, so that Doc could be such a powerful influence on the lives of so many men.
I was a departing senior when Stefan Dirghalli was initiated at my chapter on April 6, 1991. I understood that quietly if was very important to Doc that Stefan join Lambda Chi Alpha, but only if it was the best place for him on campus, and it was. While Stefan would be free to have an experience that was his own over his student career, his initiation was an international fraternity special event with VIPs flying in and participating directly in his becoming a member. Two of those VIPs, both former board members of the fraternity are here today, one all the way from western Canada. One of the pictures you saw at tonight’s reception was Stefan and Doc hugging on the front porch of the chapterhouse, moments after initiation is ended, and right before we sang songs that would get us tossed in jail today. It was a special day for all of us at the chapter – that picture of a father and son hugging as brothers means more to us today now that we are ourselves are fathers with dreams for our sons.
Now there’s a real secret here. Before Stefan became a brother, Beth was already one. She had grown up as the literal first daughter of Lambda Chi Alpha in the 70’s and 80’s, and she had forgotten more about the fraternity than any student knew. Beth wasn’t going to let the fact that she went to a school without Greek life and, as a woman, was not technically eligible to join our fraternity, keep her from experiencing the fraternity she loved as a student member. She was a student across town at LeMoyne when I was chapter president, but after our house opened in 1989, she was a pretty regular presence at the chapter. Sometimes Beth would come to me to tell me I was on the fecal roster, sometimes she was the reason I was on the fecal roster, and occasionally she would help me get off that list. I like to think I occasionally helped keep her or get her off that list as well. I did learn that Beth had Doc’s fierce temper and sense of righteous indignation. When I was an undergraduate, several of our chapter brothers were gay, and while we loved them, their fraternal experience was harder than it should have been. Beth was often their friend, confidante and advocate. As a senior, I had a girlfriend for a hot minute, and nothing mattered more to me than trying to introduce her to Beth and get her seal of approval. She would be a great brother after graduation as well. I have fond memories of sitting with Beth at the 1992 General Assembly in Orlando, at the final banquet, and singing and dancing to the soundtrack for the final banquet photo show. I also remember the 2002 Denver General Assembly when Beth finally had found a man good enough to bring and introduce to her fraternity brothers. That man Dean was the love of her life. Beth doesn’t appear on the chapter roll of brothers at Alpha-Upsilon, but we all know she’s a great brother in our bond.
Only one woman is mentioned more in Lambda Chi Alpha’s history book than Kira Dirghalli. You can learn forgiveness from Kira, who, rumor has it, loves the fraternity so much she will let Doc invite back to dinner the same student who dropped a lit candle on her antique tablecloth at a holiday meal. Kira was the gatekeeper who made sure we didn’t forget Doc and we didn’t wear him out. I’ve called that 315 number hundreds of times in my life – Doc’s home number is burned in my brain – and whether I was a student calling in an emergency, a homesick staffer calling from the road, a broke law student living in a basement, or a busy professional and family man who tried to call on a long commute home on Thursday nights, Kira was always the rock upon which my relationship and many relationships with Doc were based. And to watch Kira care for Doc was to see the definition of love.
Kira’s the ultimate housemother of Lambda Chi Alpha, her home open for more than 50 years to Lambda Chis who needed a hot meal, a bed, a place to cry and recover, a place to celebrate. Without Kira, Doc’s role at Lambda Chi Alpha would be a shadow of what it was, so his legacy is her legacy. I am proud to be just one of many brothers around the country who love Kira Dirghalli for what she has given to us all. Kira demonstrated to lots of brothers, and our significant others, how to be a loving spouse, a caring parent, a true life partner. She blessed us by letting us steal Doc, something we did not appreciate until we were parents ourselves. She’s our brother too.
Over the years, the O’Neills have been blessed to host Doc and Kira several times at our home in Williamsburg and it always meant so much for us to do so, in part because Kira didn’t burn MY tablecloth in retaliation for past events. To sit on the couch and talk about life, to break bread at our table, for him to walk up the stairs and pray with our kids at bedtime – those are treasured memories of recent years with Doc and Kira.
This summer, Stefan and his family were visiting the east coast and we were honored to host them in our home for a couple of nights on their tour. Ben and Kira were walking around the house and what do they find but a picture of their grandfather in full regalia at the baptisms of John and Kate O’Neill. I’m sure they always knew they had great grandparents but I hope they understand how much their grandparents did for so many others over the years.
The history book of Lambda Chi Alpha talks about how Doc and Kira were always in demand for Lambda Chi weddings and baptisms. There are only two people in life I have never won an argument with. I married one of them and the other performed the ceremony. I’m proud to say Doc officiated at my wedding and made many jokes at my expense, and he would go on to not only baptize both of our children but to sit in a room and pray with them. There’s no official count but I think there are dozens if not hundreds of families that had their marriages or baptisms blessed by Doc, and for all of us it was an unforgettable experience.
I came back for my 25th reunion at Syracuse six weeks ago and Doc’s house was my first and most important stop of the weekend. I walked in and the old man was reading Grit, which is one of the more popular business books of the last year, and I had recently read it myself, and it made me laugh. Here, at 89 years young, hooked up to a machine that kept him indoors almost all the time, Doc is reading a self-help book and thinking about who he can apply those lessons to in the near future. I never knew a man who had less need to read a book called Grit than Doc – he was reading that book for us. I was sad that day leaving, because, for the first time, it felt like the last time I would see him, and it was. He went into the hospital two days later, and we would talk on the phone one last time a few days before he passed. His message was everything you would want it to be. He loved me, appreciated me, wanted me to tell everyone he loved them, wanted me to do my best every day.
I am a quiet Catholic who prays every night but doesn’t get to church every Sunday like I should. But when I am there, it’s often Doc’s voice I hear. When we hear the story of the prodigal son, I see Doc as that father who always had reason to slaughter the fatted calf. When I hear the beatitudes from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, I hear Doc when we speak of the blessings of the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers who are the children of God.
So let me end where Doc the torchbearer would want us to end. God sent us an ambassador of peace and asked us to follow him as he led us home. It’s not a coincidence that Doc married a teacher and raised two kids whose careers are dedicated to shaping young lives. My fraternity brothers are priests and ministers, sales managers and association executives, business owners and fundraisers, even lawyers if they can’t find something better, but every one of them finds a way to be a teacher in some role in their life, because they are all tenders of the flame first lit by Doc as our torchbearer.
As he often told our brothers, The Reverend S. George “Doc” Dirghalli life has not ended, it has simply changed. And until we meet again, our brothers walk a path of faith, hope and love lit by the trail Doc blazed for us all in his life.
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