One of the most intriguing people I've ever known has just died. I don't know
how to describe him, except to say that in
China or
Japan he would have been
one of those slightly crazy, odd-looking but
charismatic,
mystical but
earthy poets, like
Li Po or
Basho.
In our world
John Locke was a man who fought in
World War II, was married to a woman
who left him for
Joseph Campbell (he said), studied
Zen, taught
gongfu, traveled Japan
with a
Shinto priest, traveled all over Europe and Asia, spoke I don't know
how many languages, communicated even if he didn't speak the language, and
never intimidated anybody unless he wanted to, despite being 6' 5"
tall.
Somewhere along the way he picked up a PhD or two, too. He taught
comparative literature, and if his head was in the mystic clouds his feet
were firmly on the ground. He had a great (sometimes sly)
sense of humor,
and delighted in making fun of his own 'things'--he dragged me back into
class once to repeat my horrible '
koan' joke.
I've said a few times that I hope I'm that mad cool when I'm his age, and I
still do. I can't conceive that this man would be
shot in anger and hatred,
but at the same time, he lived an incredible life. He taught his students
about more than
Chinese and Japanese literature or whatever each course was
called; he taught us about
consideration, about
kindness,
about
joy, and
letting go of fear and
anger.
And he taught us about
death. We
studied
Japanese death poetry and mystic '
fu' poetry in his class, and I have a chill
when I remember
the light in his eyes.
I am sure that he took
the next step with his own laughing grace. I'm deeply
shocked and saddened, though, and I have had to
cry.
Dr Locke, forgive us
for mourning you.
JohnLocke died
August 28, 2000, in a
murder-suicide on the campus
of the
University of Arkansas, on the first day of classes.