Jimmy McCallie’s father, Dr. Bob, gave me my first teaching job.  He gave me the best formative opportunity in education imaginable, teaching English to five classes of 10th grade boys and coaching in a 24/7 life of complete dedication to the work and to the boys.  I’ve often said that in any job after this one I felt as if I were loafing.  [Be it further noted that I did not get this job on my merits but because Jimmy McCallie was my big brother in Phi Delta Theta.]

Dr. Bob McCallie died at age 54 of a heart attack as he was seeing his daughter off on at the Chattanooga Airport, this on November 26, 1965.  Following was a note that I sent at the time to Jim, his mother, and his sister:

Dear Betsy, Margaret Anne, and Jimmy,

I do not write with any idea that I might be able to bring comfort with my words.  I am, though, a friend and I merely want you to know at this time that I particularly feel the tie which binds my heart to yours.

Dr. Bob is a great guiding spirit in my life.  The only way I shall be able to repay him is to pass on to others through my life some of the selflessness, clear perception, and active interest in others I saw in Dr. Bob.  He lived a complete life.  There was a wholeness to each of his days.  Through the unity of life, he is now conqueror over death. In love, Chuck

While at Vanderbilt in graduate work, I got the news of Dr. Bob’s death. Thinking of him and his all too-short life strengthened my resolve to make education my lifelong career. I wanted to be able to say one day that I had lived a complete life, one worthy of that of my first boss, Dr. Bob.