| CCC Legacy Journal January / February
2010 Vol. 34, Issue 1
By:
Dr. John O'Rear
(The
following presentation was given to a very special group of friends,
Country Club Friends, Tuesday, 15 December 2009, by personal friend,
Dr. John O'Rear - Mike Pixler )
Bill Pixler 1916 - 2009
I went to Bill
Pixler's funeral yesterday for two reasons: One, because of my respect and
esteem for our friend Mike, and also because as I read his obituary in the
newspaper I was struck by the paucity of detail concerning his life. His
obituary was approximately 10 lines, one for every 9 years of his life. We
read in the Book of Proverbs: "As for mortals, their days are like
grass; they flourish as the flowers of the field, the wind blows over them
and they are gone, and their place knows them no more." Yet, every
life has a story. For the rich and famous, in our newspapers and magazines
their story is featured in columns of news print and in bold letters while
for many of us ordinary mortals the remembrance of us is as fleeting as
the shadows of a cloud drifting across the prairie.
At this service
I learned some things about Bill which will soon be forgotten by the
world, but I feel are worthy of telling. Bill was a CCC boy, a member of a
group of men employed by the government during the great depression to
complete public works. They were housed in camps, supervised by the
military and spent their time building public parks, recreational
facilities and buildings many of whom are still to be found and in use.
This was a government stimulus which produced tangible results rather than
a mountain of debt. Bill then joined the Merchant Marines, a dauntless
group of men who steered our liberty ships across the frigid North
Atlantic Ocean, manning their posts with the full knowledge that at any
moment, from any point on the compass they were subject to being blown to
bits by Nazi submarines or cast into the freezing water where the survival
time was measured in minutes. Those of us who spent our time at home abed
should, in the words of Shakespeare, "hold our manhood's cheap while
any speaks" who participated in this great endeavor. These were the
men who delivered the food, ammunition, guns and tanks which helped
England to survive long enough for us to mobilize and save western
civilization.
At the end of
the war, Bill and his colleagues returned home, started families and
engaged in the countless activities such as building cars, cultivating our
fields, selling our goods, keeping our accounts and servicing the
machinery that kept our country going. In short they became the backbone
of our nation. As I watched his family and friends file in I was aware of
the stark contrast between this service and the one for Michael Jackson. I
was filled with awe and admiration for these people who go about their
daily tasks unsung and uncomplaining. I was reminded of an elegy written
by Thomas Gray in a country churchyard in which he said "Full many a
gem or purest ray serene the dark unfathomed caves of ocean bare, and many
a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert
air. The boasts of heraldry, the pomp of power, and all that beauty, all
that wealth ever gave, awaits alike the inevitable hour. The paths of
Glory lead but to the Grave."
The epitaph at
the end could properly be used on a stone for Willie Pixler:
"Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,
A youth, to fortune and fame unknown.
Fair science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
And Heaven did a recompense as largely send.
He Gave to Misery all he had, a tear;
He gained from Heaven all he wished, a friend.
No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode.
There they alike in trembling hope repose,
In the bosom of his father and his God."
The Epitaph” -
Thomas Gray, 1716-1771
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Honoring Willie Pixler
Texas CCC Day
Chapter #123
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