our big man on campus
Every school should have a guy like Claud Whitley.
According to his job description, he’s responsible for delivering the campus mail and ensuring the security of our buildings. While he performs those tasks dutifully, his impact on the Collegiate community is far greater than dispatching “Claudmail” and reminding us when we’ve left a classroom window unlatched.
“When I think of Collegiate, I think of Claud,” said Middle School head Charlie Blair. “He’s an institution.”
Claud, who was diagnosed at birth with cerebral palsy, grew up and lived for years in his parents’ home on Tarrytown Drive, literally a few steps from the North Mooreland Road property. He joined the staff in September 1968 when he was 20 years old, and his three-wheeled Schwinn, smiling countenance, and congenial disposition have been a vital part of the landscape ever since.
When he resided in the neighborhood, Claud was a seven-day-a-week, all-hours fixture around campus, and any of his host of friends will tell you that not much slipped by him. Little has changed but his hours since January 2005 when he moved to Good Neighbor Village in Varina after his parents passed away.
Show up in a new car. Claud is the first to notice. Inspection sticker overdue. Claud will spot it and remind you. Kid’s shirttail out. Claud will set him straight. Work late in your classroom. Claud will stop by to make sure everything is all right. Athletic event on campus. Claud is there. Tell a story from Collegiate’s past. Claud will recall some obscure detail the rest of us long forgot.
“Claud treats us all as his special responsibility,” said Bill Reeves, Upper School ethics teacher and a long-time friend. “He knows us better sometimes than we know ourselves. “His power of observation is an incredible gift.”
Invariably upbeat, Claud is an unofficial goodwill ambassador whose visits – sometimes brief, sometimes longer if there’re sweets on the premises – always bring smiles to those he sees.
“There’s a twinkle in his eye,” said Mary Lynn Taylor, associate director of admission. “If he knows you well, he’ll tease you because he knows it’s safe to do that. To me, he’s fascinating and wonderful.”
Claud is a traveling purveyor of campus news as he makes his rounds. In fact, he invariably seems to know what’s going on before anyone else. “He’s Paul Revere,” said Trygve Garter, Middle School secretary. “And you’ll never find anybody more dedicated.”
Which brings us to who Claud Whitley really is Though he occasionally wears an Episcopal High School baseball cap (compliments of former headmaster Rob Hershey), his loyalty to Collegiate is boundless.
“Claudie (as he’s known within his family) lives and breathes Collegiate,” said his brother George. “He’d work eight days a week if he could.”
Alex Smith, vice-president for development, tells the story of the time several years ago when Claud graciously offered one of his bicycles to the Collegiate Auction. “I was underwhelmed at first,” said Smith. “I thought, who’d buy one of Claud’s bikes? “The brilliance of Claud is that he was well ahead of me.”
Decked out in his dark blue suit, Claud appeared at the Auction with his parents and brother. As the bidding began, a slide show flashed scenes from his life at Collegiate. “There wasn’t a dry eye in the place,” recalls Smith. “It was a wonderful moment. His parents received a reward they would carry with them forever.” And the bike went for $10,000.
Like many who bleed green and gold, Claud is more than willing to talk about the Collegiate experience but clams up when asked to reflect on his own contributions. “Collegiate is a nice place to work,” he says. “It’s the people. It’s fun to come to work every day.”
Over the years, members of Claud’s family have often expressed their gratitude to the school for taking care of him. “Collegiate,” said his brother, “has been one of the greatest gifts our family could hope for.”
Thanks, George, but, hey, it works both ways.
