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I originally wrote this as a comment on the Babbling Brook Blog, expecting this to be published in a public forum. But the length got away from me a bit, so I am sending this as a letter.
Willow Brook is synonymous with my dad, and I can’t imagine one without the other. To be honest, I’m not even sure it would exist without him. At the very least, I am sure that it would be a very different kind of place. My dad has always shunned recognition and has always been quick to credit others, but this is true: More than anyone else, my dad made Willow Brook the special place and community it is today.
I have a lot of memories growing up that involve Willow Brook. They include tagging along with my dad to Willow Brook Christian Home—Willow Brook’s only campus at the time—on Sunday afternoons so I could pretend to play “office” and mess around with the Xerox copier. (I apologize for all of the toner I likely wasted.) I used to think he would give me a few dollars to go to the Wendy’s because I was being well-behaved, but I realize now it was likely to get me out of the supply room for a few minutes and give the copier a break.
There was the time I met former Senator Howard Metzenbaum in the Willow Brook lobby for some celebratory event. I didn’t understand what a “senator” was and so didn’t know why I was supposed to be excited to meet him, but I do recall thinking that he seemed incredibly tall. I believe a local radio station had also set up to broadcast live from Willow Brook that day, and while I did not appreciate what a PR coup that was, I did think having a live radio broadcast taking place right there was the coolest thing ever (sadly, I didn’t get invited on the radio).
I also remember lots of extremely late nights each December, with my dad sitting in near darkness in the basement of our house, the slide projector fan humming quietly in the background as he sought to put together the perfect slideshow for the annual Christmas Party. I can picture the dust motes drifting through the light, while a Carpenters song played on endless repeat as he painstakingly sought to ensure that everyone was recognized in the show and the order just right. Laboring over a PowerPoint presentation simply doesn’t evince the same imagery.
When I was older, my dad would invite me, my brother Steve and a friend to play jazzy versions of Christmas music in the background during the party. We were out of our depth I think, but masked it well enough—at least until we began getting requests for jazz standards none of us could play. To whoever requested Thelonious Monk: I am sorry that we disappointed you. Hopefully you enjoyed the extended version of Jingle Bells.
Sometimes I would travel with my dad across Ohio as he made pitches to various churches to encourage their support of Willow Brook’s mission. I was too young to appreciate the purpose of what he was doing, and so thought that he simply enjoyed spending his weekends driving around to obscure corners of the state talking about how great Willow Brook was. It made sense to me at the time.
The first time I toured the completed Village campus sometime in my teen years, I could not have been prouder to know my dad was behind it. The buildings and the operation looked so impressive! But given that it is profoundly uncool to admit as a teenager that your parents did something you were impressed with, I simply behaved with the perfected bored nonchalance that teenagers are so good at. By the time the Willow Brook at Delaware Run campus opened, I had come to expect nothing else but a similarly exceptional project, and it didn’t disappoint. His pride and joy were palpable as he walked me and my family through the buildings, pointing out features—a pond with a walking path here, a social and game room there, down this hall, the memory care center—and greeting everyone he saw. Even today, I enjoy seeing and touring the campuses and knowing how much work, commitment and love my dad put into them.
But buildings are simply physical structures. More than anything, I remember how much my dad meant—and means—to the Willow Brook community. Colleagues, residents, supporters, neighbors… it felt like he was close personal friends with hundreds of people, and the closeness of the relationships were genuine. Each time I walked the halls with him, he was always saying hello to everyone he passed, introducing me to people and sharing personal anecdotes. It’s amazing to watch. This community means so much to my dad, and I could tell that he means so much to everyone else.
Part of that connection is due to his personality. But part of it also is the ethos he brought the institution of Willow Brook: an ethos of service and commitment to others. Under my dad’s leadership, Willow Brook never wavered from its mission of service to people first, and everything else second. He built Willow Brook into a place of care, comfort and compassion for all who entered its doors regardless of their belief or ideology, and I hope that is never neglected or forgotten.
A half century is an incredibly long tenure—no one from my generation is remaining with an organization for that long. I myself am on my 6th employer since graduating from college 23 years ago (yikes). But to spend a professional lifetime in one place means that you inevitably leave behind something significant and monumental that will far outlast you. Success can be measured in many ways, but one of them is whether you have left a place better than when you arrived. With Willow Brook, my dad leaves a legacy of service, kindness and community that is success by any measure, and is worth being immensely proud of.
And I am very proud of you, dad. Congratulations on an incredible 48 years.
Your son, Ben
January 22, 2023
3 thoughts on “A Letter for my Dad by Ben Harris”
What a beautiful tribute to your dad, Ben! It brought me to tears and I’m sure it will for your dad, too. Thank you for sharing your story!
What a beautiful tribute from a son to his father.
What a beautiful tribute to a man who has spent a lifetime to create a place for older adults to spend their “golden” years. Job well done Ben!!