A native Iraqi who attended Baghdad College, he entered the
Society at Shadowbrook in 1950 at age 20.
He was ordained in 1963. Should
you go to the hallway leading to the lounge you will see the photo of his
ordination class. It is the only one in
color. On the day of his ordination Sam
looked the same as he did on the day of his death. The same fringe of hair, the same intense
gaze, and the same wiry frame. It is unlikely his weight ever varied by more
than a pound or two. I think he was able
to wear the slacks he wore at ordination until he was about seventy. And he
probably did. More on matters sartorial
later.
After the usual formation Sam received his PhD in
linguistics from Georgetown. I thought
of reading off the list of things from the Georgetown website in which he was
considered an expert. However, I
couldn't pronounce half of them, so we'll leave things at Arabic linguistics
and phonology. He taught at Georgetown
his entire career. He was a loved member
of the Georgetown Jesuit Community. One
could say he was one of "the old guard." He did
his work, teaching, grading, and committees without whining or
complaining. It took a little while to
get to know him when I first went to Georgetown. He never went to pre-prans, he
ate dinner early, generally returned to his room for the news in Arabic, and
then went back to his books and work. An
exemplary man for others he was quietly involved in other forms or
service.
Sam celebrated Mass every Sunday for almost forty years at
Epiphany Catholic Church down on Dumbarton St., less than a mile from the
university. It was an easy walk from
campus. He only stopped when it became
too difficult to get there. It pained
him to give up this ministry. During
good weather one would see Sam crossing campus in wrinkled but immaculate
tennis whites, a white bucket hat protecting his bare pate and a tennis racquet
gripped in his hand. He was a fierce competitor. He continued to play even after bypass
surgery, until Parkinson's made it impossible for him to continue.
Sam's two major summer joys were: tomatoes and figs. Every midweek during tomato
growing season he traveled to the Georgetown villa house in Centreville, Maryland
to tend his tomato plants. When they
were ripe he brought overflowing trays to the community dining room. We all awaited that moment. He grew the standard reds, of course, but
also a number of heirloom varieties.
Sam's tomatoes, black bread, a bit of mayo and a lot of pepper was my
lunch and supper when the harvest was flowing into the house.
Figs are delicate and not easy to grow. When the community moved to the new house in
2003 Sam had the two fig trees from behind the old house transplanted to the
front of the new one. He picked the ripe
figs with the touch of a neurosurgeon, gently placing them in a metal bowl that
was nestled in ice. He even tolerated a
degree of fig-loss to the birds with reasonable, though not total, equanimity. The
end of summer was approaching when Sam asked, "Have you ever had a fresh
fig?" as he proffered some of his take.
Sam came to Campion Center in September 2013 when the
combination of Parkinson's disease, the side effects of the medication
necessary for treatment of the motor disorder, and the discontinuation of
assisted-living at the Georgetown community made the move necessary. But even before his move he was no stranger
to Campion. About twice a year he
traveled here for a few days to visit the men who had been in Baghdad. He maintained a tremendous affection for them
and seemed a bit diminished each time one of them died. One of his great personal losses was the
death of his longtime friend, colleague, and Jesuit brother, Fr. John Witek, of
the Chicago province, whose tenure teaching Asian history matched Sam's
endurance teaching linguistics. Some of
the spark went out of Sam when John, his companion in weekly conversation,
died.
Sam had a difficult transition during his first few weeks
here at Campion. It was painful to
watch. He missed his friends in D.C.--he
had many--and he missed the support system at Georgetown where he spent almost
half his life. There were periods of anxiety and confusion when he first
arrived, but he eventually settled into the routine thanks to two men here:
Father George Galarelli and Brother Ed Niziolek. Within a few weeks of his arrival they became
a kind of three musketeers, at table, walking outdoors in good weather,
visiting in each others' rooms, and hanging out in general. It was great to watch. Jesuits taking care of each other. There is much to learn from their example.
As promised earlier we come back to the sartorial question. Sam was not what one would call a snazzy
dresser. He was either in clerics, with
a shirt that was more faded steel gray than black, in khakis and a bland shirt
showing obvious evidence of wear, or the aforementioned tennis whites. Among the benefits of the three musketeers
was that our own fashion icon, George Gallarelli, who was about the same size,
immensely improved Sam's sartorial style, particularly with sweaters and
shirts. Things matched. They were color coordinated. This was the new improved
GQ Sam Sara.
The last months were difficult. Parkinson's is a devastating disease. The man
who played tennis several times a week, who walked about a mile each way to
celebrate Mass every Sunday, to say nothing of to and from his classes on
Georgetown's surprisingly hilly campus, now struggled to get out of his chair,
to walk down a hallway, or to cut his food.
He accepted assistance with grace and without complaint. On Ignatius Feast two weeks ago I was
catching Sam up with the doings at Georgetown.
At dinner he allowed me to dissect his lobster without fuss, resistance,
or protesting "I can do it myself."
I am grateful to Sam for his assistance and example when I
was new in the Georgetown community. The
night before being admitted for bypass surgery, something Sam had already
endured, I went to his room for the sacrament of the sick. He was kind, compassionate, and calming when
kindness, compassion, and a calm voice were more than necessary.
Sam's quiet competence, his dedication to his work, and his graceful acceptance of aging and
disability should be a model for all of us, Jesuit and non-Jesuit.
Requiem aeternam
dona ei, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat
ei!
Eternal rest, grant unto him, O Lord
and let perpetual light shine upon him.
It seem reasonable to post a few shots from Georgetown University, Sam's home for four decades.
The first is a lantern at the main entrance to Copley Hall, an impressive dorm.
Bell tower of Dahlgren Chapel
The main floor of Healey Hall
Tower of Healey Hall
St. Ignatius of Loyola, pilgrim. Statue in front of White-Gravenor
