Eyes & Ears: Longtime columnist passes sword

Springfield Business Journal and our community lost a dear friend Sept. 6, the day Joe P. McAdoo died in his sleep.

But in this case, I’m writing about life – the life of McAdoo, forever known as Rusty Saber on these Opinion pages. The morning McAdoo quietly took his last breath, the weekly Springfield Business Journal arrived at his east Springfield home as usual. But that Sept. 8 issue contained something special for Joe, his family and his cherished readers.

Just a few weeks earlier, Joe had informed SBJ Publisher Dianne Elizabeth Osis that he could no longer write his famed Rusty Saber column. Joe’s heart was failing him, and the Rusty Saber was signing off – after 25 years and more than 1,700 installments. In that issue, we published in his honor one last Saber column – this one written by SBJ staff members past and present. It was a collection of favorite Saber moments, along with the personal impressions its author had left on us.

Joe’s wife, Sidney, reported to me that Monday morning that Joe never got to read that last Rusty Saber.

Perhaps that’s the way Joe wanted it. That way, he never saw the Saber put away for good. In his mind, the column was still a living, breathing part of him.

And that’s what I’ve learned about Joe and his historic column in the days following his death. The family tells me that was one of the last things he gave up. (See the Letter to the Editor on here.)

After attending McAdoo’s funeral service, I was moved to extend the Rusty Saber legacy and further memorialize its author. As I sat in a back pew at King’s Way United Methodist Church, where Joe had moved his Sunday School teaching credentials just a few years ago, this is the Joe I witnessed:

At a glance: Front and center in the sanctuary was a collection of items that contained his fingerprints. There sat a Drury University faculty cap and gown; baseball hats of his favorite Kansas City teams: the Chiefs and Royals, along with a poster of George Brett; an Ozarks Public Television fireman’s hat; a Dave Brubeck Quartet jazz record; a New International Version of the Bible; the Rusty Saber tribute column, framed; and his famous caricature.

The friend: Joe had many friends because he made many laugh. Longtime companion Ted Nickle shared stories about Joe’s quirky sense of humor – even when the seriousness of fragile life was surrounding him. In Ted’s words, life could stagger Joe but not knock him down, and he cited Joe’s affinity to Jesus’ words in John 14: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; … I am going there to prepare a place for you.”

The professional mentor: Drury University colleague Regina Waters recalled years of advice that Joe administered to her as a junior faculty member. The message she took away from this mentor was to take stock in your professional relationships, ask colleagues about their goals, intently listen and then help in any way you can. Regina, an associate communication professor, said Joe was adept at this, always with that affirming twinkle in his eyes.

The father: This is the moment I made a personal connection that I hadn’t discovered before. You see, in the brief moments I’d sometimes have with Joe as he dropped off the weekly column, we never discussed fatherhood. It was only during the memorial service as his daughter, Jill Bryant, was talking that I discovered we shared parenting styles.

The timing couldn’t have been better. I had recently become frustrated by the CEO role that my wife plays in managing our family business, i.e. two kids and one on the way, while my slow-yet-steady approach didn’t seem to make as strong of an impact. In a pity-party sort of way, I had become envious of how they relied so heavily on her during these young years of their lives. But the way Jill spoke about the quiet, ever-present force of her father, whom she looked up to, reminded me that my time would come. As Jill found herself leaning on her dad for things as she matured, so would I experience my kids coming to me for certain fatherly advice. Prof. Joe had just taught me a lesson in patience.

The closer: As the service closed, Rev. Jon C. Spalding keenly observed that Joe had written himself into our lives.

“You are his last column,” he told Joe’s family, friends and colleagues. “The Saber has been passed to you.”

Long live the Rusty Saber.

The Legacy

Joe McAdoo, a retired Drury University professor is survived by wife Sidney and children Joseph M. and Jill, and their spouses, as well as his sister, Susan Miller, and three grandchildren. Memorials may be made to the Joe P. McAdoo Endowed Scholarship Fund at Drury University, the Kings Way United Methodist Church Youth Fund or to St. John’s Hospice.

Springfield Business Journal Editor Eric Olson can be reached at eolson@sbj.net.