Michael Lewis Schrock was a man people treasured knowing...
A year ago today my friend Mike was killed tragically. He was in Fargo, ND. His father had died days earlier of a heart attack while doing volunteer work in New Orleans. Mike was helping prepare for the funeral. He was walking from his hotel in the early morning to his mother's house when he was struck by a car.
In tribute to Mike, and as a way to share some of the inspiration he brought to my life and the lives of so many others, these are the words I shared as part of his memorial service...
Mike brought something a little special to every relationship and everything he did. I have three short stories to share with you as part of this celebration of his life that will give you a bit of my sense of why Mike is so loved by family, friends, neighbors...
When I was talking to Erin (Mike's wife) about what I might say as part of Mike's memorial service, we came up with a list of descriptors -- fun, funny, loving, passionate, caring, energetic, intelligent, creative. She affectionately called him crazy, and, Erin said, at times "inappropriate." I feigned surprise. "Mike? Inappropriate? I've never seen it." And we laughed.
One of the last times I saw Mike was in the locker room of the YMCA near our homes. Actually I was in the shower. I was drying off and I heard this voice behind me. He had just come from the swimming pool. The voice said, "Hey, Fat Boy." And then we stood around talking about our kids and other stuff. Later, I told Sue, my wife, "I saw Mike at the Y today." That was how I reported it.
I was telling this story to Erin and she said, "Oh yeah. Mike came home that day and said to Erin (and I can hear his voice and see the light in his eyes and smile), "I saw Brian naked today." That's how Mike reported it. I like his way better.
Second story. There was one page on Mike's business website labeled "Philosophy." At the top of the page it said Mike's company was "founded on the principles of Michael Lewis, a legendary but little-known Minnesota architect who died doing what he loved. His philosophy of architecture is as relevant today as it was a century ago." The page goes on to share Michael Lewis' seven rules of architecture. One of those rules is "Know where you are from -- architecture is of the earth and should honor the earth." And I'm thinking as I read that, not only did Mike believe that about architecture, but he believed it about life in general. He honored the earth, and he honored all of us who shared it with him. I'm thinking, this is cool stuff. Another of his rules was: There is beauty in functional, economical safe, environmentally responsible, owner-drive architecture. And I'm thinking, Mike found beauty in everything. So, then I'm wondering about this Michael Lewis guy. I'm wondering if our Michael's parents knew about this legendary obscure architect, named their son after him, and at birth had set him on a course to be an architect himself. Or, I'm thinking, maybe Mike learned about this architect while he was a student; maybe he was drawn to him because his first and middle names are Michael and Lewis. Either way, I was fascinated by this web page, the story about this mysterious influential guy, the things it told me about what inspired Mike in his unique approach to architecture, and how it seemed to also describe how he lived every part of his life.
Again, I was talking to Erin in her living room and I asked her about this. Atlee (Mike's older son) was in the kitchen making coffee. When he heard my question he busted out laughing. "I'll tell you the story behind that one." His dad, he said, had made this guy up. Michael Lewis the architect never existed. If you look closely, you'll notice that the day Michael Lewis supposedly died was the day Michael Schrock was born. And the photo on the page? A black and white of a guy with a bushy mustache, wearing a lumberman's jacket, a wide-brimmed hat, and holding a sledge hammer that all looks like it were shot in the 1930s? It's Mike.
My last story. As I've been thinking about Mike I've been thinking about the African proverb: It takes a village to raise a child. As most of Mike's friends know, he was incredibly committed to youth soccer. He worked tirelessly and without any expectations of getting anything in return for what he did in organizing teams, finding coaches, setting up schedules. It was a lot of work.
Mike had a knack for finding kids who needed soccer, but also needed help to be able to make it part of their lives. He probably drove a million miles out of his way over the years to make sure every kid who needed a ride to practice or a game had one. He would leave work early or do whatever he had to do to pick up and deliver kids who needed that kind of support.
What most people didn't know is that Mike also spent thousands of dollars out of his own pocket for registering teams, buying uniforms, hiring coaches... whatever was needed to hold a team together.
All the love Mike put into organizing soccer teams ran through my son, Sean, and through our family -- Mike even made a point of watching my daughter, Callie, play her high school soccer games. And all that love ran through a lot of other kids and families. His love and energy were our good fortune. That's who he was, and I will never forget what it meant to be part of his village, this community Mike created.
So I asked Erin: All that money these kids owed Mike. Should I tell them they are finally off the hook?
She said, "No way. Tell them to pay it forward. When they get a chance to help a kid who needs a hand, put out your hand. And if you have to, put your hand in your pocket."
Maybe the best way any of us can remember and honor this man is that whenever we get the chance, we should be like Mike.
Make a Difference (Like Mike),
Brian
Blog:
Brian@GrowthWorks -- Life, Learning & Leadership
