UpDate - Vol. 11, No. 8, Page 4
October 24, 1991
S. Samuel Arsht: 'Both proud and happy'
I thank the trustees of the University of Delaware for this
memorable award; and I thank all of you, my friends, for coming
here today to participate with me and to share with me the joy and
exhilaration I am experiencing.
The Channel 12 viewers know old Rumpole of the Bailey. Like
Rumpole, I, too, have a "she who must be obeyed." When I was
reflecting on what I would say this morning and bouncing my
thoughts off Roxana, she admonished me that a speech, to be
immortal, doesn't have to be interminable.
Some in this room knew Richard S. Rodney and Hugh M. Morris,
both now deceased. Others may know them only by reputation. I am
fortunate to have known each of them since I was a student at law
school and to have had the benefits and privilege of their
friendship continuously thereafter until their deaths, 1963 in the
case of Judge Rodney, 1966 in the case of Judge Morris. Their
influence on me, on the course of my life, cannot be overstated.
They were the giants of the bench and bar of Delaware. I was their
protege. To me they were genuinely great men who occupied a place
above and apart from all others. Both were honored by the
University of Delaware with the award of honorary doctor of laws
degree. I remember each of them pridefully mentioning his degree to
me. The University's conferral on me today of the same degree
brings a tremor of unworthiness and at the same time makes me both
proud and happy in the thought that, these many years after their
deaths, I am still walking humbly in their footsteps.
Both Judge Rodney and Judge Morris lived into their 80s. Both
continued to go to their offices and do their judging and lawyering
until they were overtaken by death. That was the norm in their era.
It is not the norm today. Today, most people, men and women, retire
at an age when they are still physically and mentally strong-at an
age when they still look forward, with justification, to more than
just a few good years in which to enjoy an active and interesting
lifestyle.
The United Negro College Fund has hit the nail on the head
with its slogan: "A mind is a terrible thing to waste." That
applies just as much to the years after retirement as to any other
period of life. When I stopped going to my office almost seven
years ago, I thought I knew all I needed to know for my own
well-being. I was wrong. I now know that it's what you learn after
you know it all that really counts.
The citation Mr. Kirkpatrick read listed my activities, my
accomplishments, if you will, which the trustees apparently
considered sufficiently noteworthy to warrant granting me this
degree. However, and notwithstanding the length of the list, my
family would say that there was an important omission-that the
trustees failed to include my one accomplishment that, above all
the others, merited this degree.
What I am referring to occurred a long time ago; but I
remember it well.
In 1923, when I was a 13-year-old Boy Scout, I was the
champion pup tent pitcher of Delaware and was sent to Washington
where I competed on The Mall in the National Pup Tent Pitching
Contest.
When 25, 30 or more years from now, one of my grandnieces or
grandnephews is a student at the academy and some other student
says to her or him: "I suppose this place is called Arsht Hall
because some rich guy named Arsht gave some money," my grandniece
or nephew will reply; "Oh no, he was a poor boy who was born at
Second and Madison streets in Wilmington and became the champion
pup tent pitcher of the state when he was 13. Not only did the
University of Delaware name this building for him and his wife, but
it also gave him an honorary doctor of laws degree."
What is important, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.
Like my family, I think being a champion pup tent pitcher is really
neat, and I thank the trustees for making me the first champion pup
tent pitcher to have a beautiful big "pup tent" erected with my
name on it and to receive in addition an honorary doctor of laws
degree.