Your Letters

I started this blog for Suerk because there were too many of you to be in personal contact with. In the end, the blog served a far greater purpose. It provided a great many of you the conduit through which to send Suerk your love. There are hundreds of emails in the 'forpaulsuerken' inbox. I read them to him during my daily call -- every day at 11am. It was a rhythm I imposed on him initially, but one he grew to depend on -- that daily call. Whenever there was a new email I read it to him. One regret I have is that we never worked out a way for him to respond to the emails. He never seemed to have the energy to actively participate in the exchange. But he loved getting any and all news from his friends. He lived for it.

John Koontz (Mercersburg '95) wrote two of the letters in the inbox. They are wonderfully representative of most of the rest. They are personal, emotional, proud, appreciative, honest. Suerk was fortunate to have had those many months to get letters like these, and he knew it. He loved it. With John's permission, here are two of his.

Suerk,

I’ve tried to reconnect with you recently, but was convinced that my continued refusal to embrace Facebook and the like had prevented me from getting through. I got an email from my big sister, Michelle that has explained your recent episode and my inability to find you.

You’re surely getting lots of letters and visitors, and part of me wants to jump on my motorcycle (wanted one ever since seeing you ride yours among your legion of cross country runners) and ride through western Pa to see you. But instead I’ll keep this short and sweet.

As has been par for the course in our relation, I’ll talk about me… I figure it will tickle you to know that I terminated my subscription to the Rush Limbaugh newsletter before I even graduated from Mercersburg. But I hope it will make you proud to learn that last year, I quit my lucrative project management job to join a start up venture hoping to deploy solar power all across North America. I decided to tell you this at this time of all times, because it is quite easy to see how much I have changed since I first met you in 1992 or so. I guess anything can happen. I have always attributed much of my success to you and have fond memories of both the fun and hard lessons you bestowed on me. In particular, I was always amazed at how people respected and admired you.

Before your news reached me, I was rereading some of your advisor notes to my parents, and on March 4th, 1995 you wrote “Someday we might look at this time in John’s life as the point where he decided to be the person we all knew he could be.” As usual I am a bit behind schedule, but I will say this: I, and many others who have crossed paths with you Suerk, could not achieve and wouldn’t know how to decide to achieve, but for knowing you. You are that important!

I miss you. Get well… and be good to your amanuensis.


From just another of your screechy first tenors,

John B. Koontz, Jr. ‘95



Suerk,

I’ll make this short….ish. I think of you often. Your impact on who I am has been profound. To prove this point, I’d like to tell you about what I am most proud of after my wife and two little girls. In 2008, the kid across the hall from you in Keil Hall that made a point of rubbing his Rush Limbaugh newsletter in everyone’s face, the kid who sang first tenor, despite having the voice of Kermit the frog (hey, it ain’t easy being green), the kid who learned that he was truly an “emotional rollercoaster” when he found out that he would not be a prefect (or perfect for that matter), the kid who still writes run on sentences and thinks they should rank with alliteration and hyperbole as writing tools, achieved a dream. I dreamt that I could be part of a solution instead of a complainer and a whiner in this world. Much of what you taught me, in actions and in words, in carrots and in sticks, has sunk into this thick skull and taken root. I don’t intend to brag or boast but to show you how far I’ve come. Somewhere in south Jersey there is a flooring manufacturer that is generating a significant percentage of their energy from the sun. (That’s it. That’s what I’m so damn proud of. [In my world, sentences should end in prepositions too.]) When I first met these people, these flooring manufacturers, Mannington Mills, in 2007, I felt like I was trying out for the Octet. I couldn’t believe they even agreed to see me. As I walked in their conference room and realized that I was talking with some heavy hitters (CFO, VP Environment and Safety, Director of Maintenance), it occurred to me that they were there because I had been taken seriously. A switch flipped in me and I delivered the best (and most successful to date) presentation ever. I felt like I was in a retirement home in Chambersburg. I relaxed and new that what I had to offer was good enough! A year and a half later they had a 602.7 kW photovoltaic system on their roof (In its first day and a half of operation it generated the equivalent of what my family uses in a year). Suerk, you probably won’t ever know how much of an influence you have had on this world. I worry/struggle with what my own impact/legacy will be constantly. You continue to teach me, because I imagine that you don’t even care to know. It isn’t about knowing what impact you’ve had; it’s about making sure you put it all out there and didn’t hold back. I intend to follow your example and I thank you sincerely for setting it.

I love you Suerk! Happy New Year!

John B. Koontz, Jr

Accommodations

Mercersburg.edu has an accommodations listing for travelers. Here's a link that will lead you closer to it. Click HERE and scroll down to the "Accommodations" click, and there's also a "Getting Here" aide for those who might need it.

Suerk's Obituary

Suerk dictated his own obituary within weeks of the accident in July 2008. Here it is, almost exactly as he had intended it.

Paul Maxwell Suerken
Born in Erie, PA on March 31st, 1938
Died on March 21st, 2010

Paul Maxwell Suerken , 71, of Hilltop Road, Erie, died following a prolonged illness after suffering a spinal injury in 2008. A native of Erie, Paul was the son of the late Maxwell Crouch and Alice Sherman Suerken.

Paul was a graduate of McDowell High School in 1956, and a graduate of Dartmouth College in 1960. He then earned a Masters Degree from Dartmouth in 1981. For thirty one years, Paul taught at the Mercersburg Academy, a residential school for boys and girls, 9th -12th grade, in Mercersburg, PA. In boarding schools a teacher wears many different hats. Paul taught English, Music, and led several musical groups, both vocal and instrumental. He also was a cross-country coach. He was in charge of two different dormitories, chaired the English Department and was a college counselor. A life long bachelor, Paul considered his students to be his family. Paul was an avid runner and ran thirteen marathons, including two Boston marathons. During the school year of 1981-1982, Paul taught in England at Cranleigh School in the county of Surrey. Paul loved his job and there is evidence to show that his students loved him back. Paul loved to travel.

He is survived by many cousins and his “family” of former students whose lives he deeply touched and enriched through his tireless good counsel.

Memorials may be made to The Paul Suerken Scholarship fund at Mercersburgs Academy, 300 East Seminary St. Mercersburg, PA 17236

From John Koontz (Mercersburg '95)

I cried for Suerk again today. I heard about the reunion in August and I'm stoked. I've read all the posts and I feel badly that I didn't learn how to write nearly as well as so many other Suerk disciples. But what Suerk did for me is help me deal with emotions. I have always been a tough nut to crack but Suerk, I think, prided himself on his ability to handle all comers.

I entered his world knowing I couldn't sing. I left the Academy a first tenor, one of Suerk's projects. I smile while I cry today. Suerk continues to help me deal with my crazy emotions. I miss you Suerk, and will probably get emotional every time I see the Cleveland Indians logo, or a Boston terrier, hear "Four Strong Winds," or think about my responsibilities as a mentor to my children. Suerk taught me about mentors too.