Goodbye Harry

Early at the office on Wednesday, June 10, I found one solitary message in my email inbox: “Hi, Jerry, Mr. Harry Campbell was pass away last, March 21, 2009. I want you to know. Thank you, Carmen Campbell.”

For several minutes I could do nothing except stare at the computer monitor, running my eyes over and over again across the same short message. A great sadness and an overwhelming disbelief took hold of my entire being.

Harry Campbell was a friend I have never personally met. We knew each other only through the Internet. In fact I never expected we could become such good friends, especially since we actually started on the wrong foot.

My friendship with Mr. Campbell begun with a little trace of acrimony. You see, about three or four years ago (I cannot anymore remember exactly when) I devoted an entire column on his wife, Carmen, and he reacted vehemently to that article.

Prior to my column, Carmen made the headlines after she stood up in the middle of a Mass to confront the priest who devoted his entire homily to political harangue and bombast against the president.

Having myself experienced many similar situations when priests would transform Masses into venues for political agitation but, unlike Carmen, could do nothing but endure the abuse and humiliation, I could not help but admire her bravery and cheer her principled protest.

So I wrote about the episode and heaped upon her a mountain of praises, while at the same time condemning this high-handed practice of some priests to use religious services as a means to impose political views which we did not come to Church for to hear.

But Mr. Campbell, probably not used to seeing his wife the focus of so much media attention, became unduly agitated and emotional. Perhaps seized with protective zeal, he must have just skimmed through my column and saw only that the entire subject was Carmen.

He dashed off an angry email to me. I cannot recall anymore his angry words. They have over time given way to better memories of consequent friendship. But to his angry email I asked that he read my column again and maybe he can better appreciate it the second time around.

Well, he probably did and realized the mistake, for very soon after he dashed off another email, this time profuse with apologies. From that time on, we became very good friends, frequently exchanging views and forwarding each other interesting items and jokes.

We seemed to share a lot of common interests and a lot of similar views. Mr. Campbell was very intelligent and perceptive. From what he read of my writings, he was able to form his opinion of what I probably stood for.

And judging by the kind of articles he forwarded to me, I must say he was very precise in knowing my sentiments on a number of issues. It was as if, by exchanging articles, we were actually discussing and articulating our very own views.

But away from the seriousness, Mr. Campbell also had the knack of knowing the precise type of underbelly I had. He seemed to understand, over the distance of cyberspace, what kind of jokes would make me laugh. Unlike others, not once did he send me a piece of corny humor.

I realized that he held me in high regard and never tried to impose anything on me that might in any way give the smallest trace of discomfort. For example, he never sent me chain mail or insulting stuff that threaten one with doomsday in case of failure to do as bidden.

Then he stopped sending me anything. Being so vibrant and full of life, I never suspected anything bad. I just thought he was away on vacation and wanted privacy. But then I began to miss him so. So I sent a trial email. It was Carmen who replied for Harry.