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Michael Hooker never quit.
Motivated by a lifetime of overcoming hurdles, Hooker hated wasting time. So
even when he was diagnosed in January with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, he scheduled
his chemotherapy sessions on Fridays so he could recover during the weekend and
return to work on Monday.
In April, when doctors told Hooker that the lymphoma had changed from
low-grade to high-grade, he took a two-month leave to concentrate on his
medical treatments. Characteristically, he chose an aggressive treatment.
Those aggressive treatments took a physical toll, but he returned to his job
in June, working from his home office. There he worked right up to the end,
leading a Chancellor's Cabinet meeting at 5 p.m. on June 28 and talking to
Faculty Chair Richard "Pete" Andrews at 9 p.m. that same evening.
A few hours later, Hooker was rushed to UNC hospitals where he died. He was
53.
Tributes paid
Word that the University's eighth chancellor had died spread quickly across
campus, provoking nearly as much surprise as sadness. For even though Hooker's
six-month battle with cancer was well known, most staff, faculty and students
thought he was getting better. Many thought Hooker's resolve and energy would
allow him to will his way past one more hurdle. It was a sentiment expressed by
Doris Betts, alumni distinguished professor of English.
"Meeting Michael felt as if you had walked into a wind tunnel, such was his
energy," Betts said. "It was that wind tunnel of force by which we hoped the
lymphoma would be torn apart."
News of Hooker's death prompted an outpouring of tributes -- some public,
others private -- from the campus community and Carolina's extended family.
Student leaders urged people to leave flowers on the steps descending from
South Building to Polk Place. By week's end the flowers covered much of the
stairs. In Polk Place, an American flag sent by U.S. Senator Jesse Helms flew
at half staff.
Along Franklin Street merchants placed Carolina-blue ribbons in their store
windows. In Landover, Md., the eight Carolina players on the women's national
team competing in the World Cup remembered Hooker during their game against
Germany. Each player wrote "Michael" on one sock and "Hooker" on the other to
honor a chancellor who had fervently supported them in college.
On campus, Hooker's family received friends, family and members of the
University community at the Ackland Art Museum on June 30. More than 400 people
waited up to an hour to express their condolences to Hooker's wife, Carmen
Hooker Buell; his mother, Christine Hooker; and step-daughters Jennifer and
Cyndi Buell. Daughter Alexandra Hooker joined the family later in the week.
The week's public events concluded with a service on July 2 at Memorial Hall.
More than 1,500 people gathered to remember Hooker's four years as chancellor
and to celebrate his life.
An `audacious visionary'
Whatever the setting, people remembered Hooker, his impact on the University
and his impact on their lives. They remembered his crusades for public
education, his vision of Carolina in the 21st century and the boundless energy
he brought to his tasks.
They quoted Sir Francis Drake, Montaigne and Henry David Thoreau in
remembering Hooker, a philosophy professor before he became an administrator.
They remembered his baby-faced grin as well as his intense gaze when deep in
thought. They remarked how he had a way with words, but also was a great
listener. They remembered how much he loved pizza and the exhilaration he felt
while crowd-surfing at basketball games. And they remembered the courage he
showed in combating lymphoma.
Above all else, people remembered his deep affection for his alma mater.
As chancellor, he was remembered for reconnecting the University to the state.
First he undertook a tour of all 100 counties to visit people throughout the
state. Then he championed the annual Tar Heel Bus Tour, which takes faculty and
administrators new to the state on a weeklong barnstorming of North Carolina to
acquaint them with the people they serve.
If such cross-Carolina tours emphasized the "public" in the nation's first
public university, Hooker was also remembered for his constant call that
Carolina become the nation's best public university. For this he was remembered
as an "audacious visionary" by Provost Richard J. Richardson.
"No one dared to believe that before Michael came here," Richardson said.
"Because he believed it, he gave us confidence to believe in ourselves and
believe it too."
To achieve that title of best public university, Hooker applied his most
vaunted quality: his seemingly endless supply of energy. The crackle of that
energy came out in many ways. Colleagues remembered his brisk marches across
campus to keep up with his packed schedule of meetings. Once at such meetings,
those same colleagues say Hooker was forever anxious to get to the point, to
the solution, to the conclusion.
"Michael dared us to think boldly and was often agitated when we did not,"
said David Whichard, a member of the University's Board of Trustees. "He was
impatient to get things done."
Everyone who brushed shoulders with Hooker felt that energy.
President Bill Clinton wrote a letter expressing his condolences and remarking
that Hooker had "an astonishing blend of intellect, energy and heart." Gov.
James B. Hunt said Hooker's "zest for life, his enthusiasm, made all of us feel
younger." UNC President Molly Broad said Hooker had "energy that was often
blinding."
Close to home
Mark McIntyre Sr., who works in the HVAC section of Facilities Services, felt
Hooker's energy whenever the two spoke.
"He had more energy than three of us," McIntyre remembered after the memorial
service. "I told him once that he was my kind of guy because he didn't wait
around and didn't seem to have much patience. He said, `Mark, don't
underestimate me: I have NO patience.'"
McIntyre got to know Hooker during a supper the chancellor hosted for the
crews that remodeled Quail Hill before Hooker moved in. After thanking Hooker
for hosting the reception, McIntyre talked to him about where the chancellor
was from.
Having been a traveling salesman once, McIntyre actually had been to Hooker's
hometown of Grundy, Va., a fact that amazed Hooker.
"He told me that he always said he was from southwest Virginia because no one
had ever heard of Grundy," McIntyre said.
Hooker may have left his hometown for Carolina and the larger world of
academia, but he never lost touch with his roots. For the hundreds of friends
and colleagues honoring Hooker who never made it to Grundy, the service in
Memorial Hall brought a little bit of those roots to Carolina.
In a performance of arresting simplicity, Doug Trantham and his daughter
Emily, 13, and son Adam, 10, played two gospel songs in the old time music
tradition, "Wondrous Love" and "I'll Fly Away."
Richardson explained that on the first Tar Heel Bus Tour the Tranthams played
for the group. At that time Hooker had "leaned back in his chair and smiled as
he listened to those two songs."
And when Emily Trantham had finished singing them, the hushed crowd had a
better idea of where Hooker came from.
A love for his alma mater
Those roots were an essential part of what made Hooker so focused, energetic
and impatient. For it was his parents' insistence that he would be the first
member of his family to go to college that prompted Hooker to visit Carolina as
a teen and begin his love affair with the school.
Hooker expressed that love himself during his address at his installation as
chancellor.
"From the very first moment, my memories of Chapel Hill carry with them a
quality of magic which is present to this day," he said.
Hooker believed so passionately in the University because of the impact
Carolina had on his own life, transforming him from the son of a coal miner to
not just a college graduate, but to a philosophy professor at Harvard and then
president of Bennington College, then the University of Maryland-Baltimore
County and then the University of Massachusetts system.
That career path brought him back home to Carolina for a job he called "a
dream come true." He considered his post as a sacred trust. He also just plain
loved being chancellor.
"When he talked about his work he sounded like a kid in a candy store," said
Freeman Hrabowski, who succeeded Hooker as president of the University of
Maryland-Baltimore County.
Most University employees saw Hooker only at public events such as University
Day or Commencement, or on one of his fast-paced walks across campus. At such
occasions he never failed to express his love and hopes for the University.
For those who got a closer look, there were plenty of other signs of Hooker's
love for Carolina.
There was the student ID from his freshman year that he hung in his South
Building office to remind visitors -- and himself -- that he was a Carolina
student before he was chancellor.
Hrabowski remembered how Hooker excitedly took him to visit the spot in the
library where Hooker studied as a student. Others said Hooker talked about how
much he enjoyed listening to the UNC Gospel Choir or the Loreleis.
Others talked about how after Hurricane Fran ravaged the campus, Hooker joined
with other volunteers to rake debris.
And anyone who accompanied Hooker on his cross-campus walks remembered how he
picked up any litter he spotted and stuffed it in his suit pockets. As he
passed trash cans, he would stop to unload his pockets.
Nic Heinke, student body president, and Lee Conner, president of the Graduate
and Professional Student Federation, had similar memories of their last
meetings with Hooker. Both occurred at an April 7 picnic in Polk Place honoring
teaching assistants.
Heinke said he sat with Hooker on the steps connecting South Building to Polk
Place. They talked for about 15 minutes about the University, what needed to be
done and their favorite buildings on campus.
"He looked just like a boy who had seen Chapel Hill for the first time,"
Heinke said. "He never lost that joy."
Touching many
That memory was on Heinke's and Conner's minds when they decided to start the
flower memorial on those same steps.
Many people remarked at how Hooker's term as chancellor had been cut
tragically short, that he was really just getting started. The remarks at the
many memorial events showed the personal impact he had in that short time.
He even had an impact on people he never met, people such as Zoey
Lyczkowski.
Lyczkowski lives in Sanford. She did not attend Carolina, but fondly remembers
attending the winter Commencement on Dec. 20, 1998. That day her nephew, Ronald
Campbell, received his Carolina degree.
She remembered how her nephew was disappointed to have marched at the smaller
ceremony, but Lyczkowski sees it as a blessing now because that was the last
commencement Hooker attended and addressed.
"I was glad to have heard Dr. Hooker speak," Lyczkowski said. "I could tell he
was very dedicated to the students from the way he spoke."
Based on that lone, distant encounter, Lyczkowski drove from Sanford to attend
the service in Memorial Hall.
"I just wanted to come honor his memory," she said.
She wasn't alone.
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