“Noi salutiamo il gladiatore, Terry!”

 

Terry and the crew at the SPJ Executive Committee led by Al Cross in Los Angeles.

Terry Harper would have dominated here.

“Pronto!” from Roma, my friends.

I am 5,000 miles away but closer than you think. So, I hope in the days ahead you all can help me share in Terry Harpers’s celebration of life.

Rome offers a lot of connections to Terry, and during the past week, I have dwelled on many of them.

It’s a city of love, and Terry was a loving, caring person.

It’s a city steeped in history, and Terry was a student of history — from the ancient kind that moves in and out of the ruins here to modern pop culture, which nudges its way into life here in odd sorts of ways.

The Italians love having fun, and no one loved fun more than Terry.

Italy swims in spirituality. Terry’s spirituality, richly and broadly defined, could consume all the icons in Rome.

And in Italy, family means everything. Lee Ann and the boys, and Terry’s folks and friends know how much he loved his family and the importance it held for him.

But if forced to choose one place in Italy in which to cast forever my memory of Terry, I’d pick the Coliseum.

Terry fought the past several months like a gladiator.

From the start of his battle, he knew what faced him and never cowered.

He chose the most powerful weapons for the fight.

He chose to frame each day as one in which he would live not just survive.

He chose to never look back, always walking upright and relishing each moment he spent with family and friends — viewing the time he shared with them as a gift not a sentence.

And when his physical strength deserted him, he fought with humor, humility and grace.

We were lucky to know him, and we have a model from which we can mold our lives.

So, join me with glasses of Maker’s Mark raised and our fists clenched with thumbs tucked inside (the proper way to support a gladiator) in saying:

“Noi salutiamo il gladiatore, Terry!”

 

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