Sauchi Stephen Lee,
Statistics,
University of Idaho

[April 18, 2010]—

I can still recall the day when I asked my chairman, “Do you think of spiritual things at times?”

It was more than a decade ago that I met Al Manson. He was applying to become the first formal chair of our Division of Statistics. He came across as a motivated man talking about future goals and action plans. He had a deep voice that evoked determination, an inviting smile, and sharp eyes reflecting his insights.

A Capable Colleague

We soon came to know him professionally as a capable colleague. Our conversations were basically on the collegial level, rarely personal. He said what he meant, he meant what he said, and nothing much beyond what was necessary. Yet he was very supportive when I went through the tedious tenure and promotion process in 1998.

Then Al was diagnosed with cancer. His life, I realized, might not include all the goals and plans he had so thoughtfully begun in our department. So one day over lunch I asked him that question “Do you think much about spiritual things?”

He replied: “I think of spiritual things everyday.” I was surprised because we seldom had any interaction or communication on this level. He was becoming more aware of his Christian faith and the importance of his personal relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.

I Love My Job

He began to be more open about his life. At a faculty meeting he said, “I have no fear of dying. I know that I am right with God. I am looking forward to work everyday until I am no longer able to work. I love my job.”

It took a lot of courage for him to share his belief and his personal relationship with God in front of the entire faculty at a departmental meeting. He delivered what was in his heart calmly and naturally. Spiritual reality had become so real and true for a man suddenly looking from earth into eternity.

Al set up a good example of successful leadership: he led with his whole being and stayed committed to doing excellent work. He kept teaching two classes despite being weak. Over lunch in one of his final months he was more interested in talking about ways to minimize the impact of the university budget cuts on our division than to talk about his health condition.

He Had The Strength

The day prior to his death, my wife and I had the privilege of visiting him. He looked pale and tired, but was conscious and sharp, showing no expressions of pain. For the duration of our visit he had the strength to hold our hands tightly.

We told him that we were proud of him and that he was fighting a good fight.From his hospital bed he asked us to pray with him. As we prayed together, he firmly and repeatedly said three words I would never forget: “In His Hands.”

© 2010 Sauchi Stephen Lee