Like any two young boys that were two years apart in age, my brother and I had issues. In fact, the first words out of my little brother’s mouth were “Howie hit me”. Chris was never one to hold back when it came to standing up for the underdog and perhaps that was where it all began. Of course we played together like any brothers would. But, the games we played may have been a bit unusual if you weren’t a preacher’s kid.
Sometimes we played church. As the oldest, I would carry in the cross, I was the priest, and I gave the sermon. Chris was always overjoyed with his role as “the Bishop”. He never got to do anything at the service, which may have had something to do with my dad’s feelings about bishops, but when he got bored and sat down, I would turn and say “Christopher, the Bishop never sits.”
Sometimes we played in the church. The Church of the Holy Spirit in Orleans Ma., on Cape Cod, had a 24/7 open door policy. That policy worked out really well for a couple of curious kids growing up in the rectory next door.
Sometimes we played during church. This may not have been one of our best ideas. We quickly found that when your father is standing at the pulpit, he has a great view of exactly who it is who’s causing the trouble. And, he wasn’t worried about letting the entire congregation know that it was his sons that weren’t listening to his sermon, or squirting parishioners on their way back from receiving communion. Dad would just stop and yell. Needless to say, the entire church knew who Howdy and Chris were.
Sometimes we played on the church. There was a large flat roof loaded with little pebbles. Even though it was totally off limits, the temptation was just too much. We were on that thing all of the time.
Sometimes we played under the church. We got caught setting up a fort in the crawl space under the gift shop, and digging through the sand in the columbarium.
Sometimes we played around the church. The church had a large amount of land with varied terrain. One day we could explore the swamp, another we played capture the flag in the hills, or kickball in the field.
One time we even played over the church. That didn’t last long though because Chris slipped off the joists in the attic crawl space, and came crashing down through the ceiling in the church office.
We always had church. Even on our vacations we had church. And, we always managed to meet lots of people on our church vacations. That was primarily due to my father’s obnoxiously loud singing voice. I couldn’t understand my father’s obsession to be the loudest, definitely not the best, singer in the church. Of course, we always had to sit in the back pew, so that when everyone turned around to see where the noise was coming from, there we were. Dad always wore a Priests Collar at least, so we would get the “oh that’s why” kind of look. I think that it was during those times of incredible embarrassment for two young boys that gave my brother the “hey, if we made it though that, we can make it through anything” kind of attitude. That’s probably the reason why he displayed no signs of embarrassment when he showed up dressed as Big Bird for Dad’s annual blessing of the animal’s service.
But I guess more than anything, the church was always inside of us. When we were young, like most preachers kids, my brother and I walked a thin line between Christianity and crisis, but we always tried to do the right thing. I remember one time when we shot the rear window out of a station wagon with a sling shot from my bedroom window as it passed by our house. When the police came to our door dad said “It couldn’t have been our kids. They have been up in their rooms all afternoon.” My parents went out to dinner that night with friends, and we were so nervous and upset that one of the kids staying with us threw up. As soon as my parents came in the door we spilled the beans. It was always like that. We could never get away with anything, because we had to tell the truth. Like the time one of us threw a rock through a church window. At dinner that night I looked at Chris and asked; “should we tell them?”, “no” was the answer, but by that point it was too late.
We always tried to be friends with anyone, no matter how popular or unpopular that person may have been. It was always the character of the person that was most important to us, even when we were at very young ages. That same trait held true, even in our teenage years. Chris was benched on the soccer team for standing up from an unpopular friend. That was something that was always important to both of us, but Chris took it to a whole other level.
After graduating from Boston College, Chris spent some time working as a paralegal in a large Boston law firm. I think that he was just trying to feel out what his future would bring. The case that he was working on was an Asbestos case. The firm that he was working for represented the large conglomerate responsible for the asbestos. Chris and I had many discussions about the morality of the law and the failure of the law to protect the true victims. Between Chris’s second and third years at law school, he said to me that he wanted to quit. I asked him why. He said that he didn’t like the attitudes of his fellow law students, and what they stood for. I said “Why don’t you wait until after your summer with Harvard Legal Aid. Maybe you’ll change your mind.” Needless to say, he did.
I don’t usually quote the bible, so you’ll have to forgive me on this one, but Jesus said “In so much you do for the least of these my brothers, you do for me”. My brother must have been listening to that sermon. Not only did he stand for the impoverished as part of his job at legal aid, but he donated his free time to committees and commissions dedicated to helping the hungry, the homeless, the elderly and the physically challenged. When he wasn’t doing that, he was crafting legislation to further his cause. The Supreme Court justice for the State of Delaware said; “Chris White was a million dollar attorney who gave it all up for the poor in this state”.
Yes, my brother was a hero to many, but more than anything, he was my little brother and my best friend. He was a great husband, father, son, brother, brother-in-law, and uncle. Family always found a way to come first. He was always the life of the party, the center of attention. He always found ways to entertain us all. He was funny. He was kind. He was caring and attentive. Our family couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful member, and he will be missed.
