talk 757

To- Fung Shiu-Yin (“ABC”)
An Athlete Dying Young:
A Remembrance

Ted Hsieh

He was once the most illustrious among all the Lighters, shinning brightly when the rest of us were dimly visible in the cherished firmament of Pui Ching heavens.

In the highly recognizable and famously competitive athletic arena of track and field at Pui Ching, he was the best of the best and the brightest of all the stars in his time. He was the perennial champion and long-time school record holder in both 400-meter and 400-meter low hurdle races. He won the Best-of-Meet individual honors three consecutive times in the Pui Ching annual all-school track and field meets during our senior high years. Those meets, the biggest events in school calendar, were held in the Army Fields on the Boundary Street and were covered extensively by the Hong Kong newspapers.

Just the memories of watching him run bring tears to my eyes still after all these years.

His steps were steady. The pace, well-studied and practiced, was impeccable. His eyes were focused. His face was emotionless. You always wondered what he was thinking as his black sock-less shoes were pounding the dark track methodically and his arms were swinging economically. Was he thinking of her? Or, was he thinking of the chemistry test the following week? He could, of course, be thinking about his vice.

His only vice as I remember was the “western” pastries from ABC Restaurant next to our Pui Ching campus. (ABC— you get the picture.) He always ate them with a large bottle of Watson’s Orange Drink. If you can imagine, that was really quite a combination. How could anyone eat and drink those sugary stuffs at the same time?

He brought many honors for Pui Ching as he won also those running events every year in the Hong Kong Inter-Scholastic Track and Field Meets. He was so good in running that the elite South China Athletic Association on Caroline Hill recruited him to represent them in the All Hong Kong Open Track and Field Meets even while he was still a school boy. I think he won the 400-meter and 400-meter hurdle events many times for them. Several of his friends would faithfully attend those meets and watch him win. Before the race, he would allow us to touch his sparklingly new uniform and the silky warm-up jacket bearing the much-admired SCAA insignia. Afterwards, he would offer to buy us Watson’s Orange Drink. I always declined because my drink was Coca Cola. Sometimes, I wondered if the only reason I attended those meets was to have a free Coca Cola afterwards.

He was a big celebrity, especially among younger students. They would point at him as he walked by them on campus or on Nathan Road and quietly called out his name. They liked to call him by his nick name, ABC. I think he liked that public recognition immensely and only showed a tiny bit of embarrassment. When he was happily embarrassed, his shoulders would push up a little bit closer to his ears, his face would break out that silly grin, and he would put his right thumb between his second and third fingers and started waving them at no one in particular. But when he was embarrassed for an unhappy reason, his fingers would be in different formations and his face was without that silly grin. He was fun. I love the guy.

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose....

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man....

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
A garland briefer than a girl’s.
--“To an Athlete Dying Young” by A. E. Housman (1859-1936)

He and I were dorm brothers. That has meant far more to me than any word can describe.

The Lighter dorm brothers were a close lot. ABC was especially close to Alan Tai-Man Cheung, Tony Kwok (B10), Kwun Leung (C7), Alec Yui-Fun Li (C6), Stanley Ching Seto (D39), and David Yook-Fung Zai (D33). For years, we slept in the same dorm room, did our homework in the same classroom next door, ate our meals around the same dinning tables, and showered in the same open stalls. We looked out for one another. We took trips together. We shared news (gossips). Every morning, we literally fought over the same newspaper together to read the daily installments of Louis Cha’s Eagle-Shooting Heroes.

ABC was compulsively neat. Everything he had- books, pens, clothes and shoes- he had them arranged and placed in perfect order. His bed was always neatly made. Five mornings a week, we would wake up in the dorm to the loudspeakers playing the famous marching band music Stars and Strips Forever by John Philip Sousa. We had to speed to the playground miles away, seemingly, for morning exercise and then to return to the dorm for morning hygienic activities. Most of us would pretend to make our beds at that time and then rush downstairs for breakfast. But he was the only one who was able to have his bed made perfectly before we went up to the playground. Now that really took some self-discipline and ABC was Mr. Discipline himself. His athletic glories came from his well-disciplined practice routines.

After our graduation in 1959, he entered Grantham College of Education in Kowloon. In 1960, he obtained the much-coveted teaching certificate from the government and started teaching Chinese Literature, History and Composition as well as Physical Education at an elite grammar school (Diocesan Boys’ School). In an August 10, 1961 letter, he talked about his being promoted to the chair of the Physical Education Department in the new semester, although the pay was still the same HK$700.00 a month. He was then living on the school ground in a spacious one-room apartment. He talked about Stanley Seto returning to Hong Kong from New Guinea and David Zai from England and how they would meet two or three times a week that summer. In a November 20, 1962 letter, he complained about my lack of stamps and how much he had to pay for my letter. He also related to me Alan Cheung’s complaint to him about me for not writing often enough. So he included in his letter Alan’s “2038 Bath Street, Santa Barbara, California” address. He was quite a letter writer, funny and lively.

He said he practiced but no longer raced. His teaching load was just too heavy. It must be very difficult for him. He was a thoroughbred, meant for the race track and not for the comfort of a nice pasture.

I must have exaggerated a lot about my summer jobs (waiting on tables in the restaurants). He was quite “envious” of me, mentioning over and over again about my “competence” and about me being a good boy earning money. Reading his old letters brings back memories of many addresses long forgotten. I had not thought about those times and those places for a long time. In one of his letters, he mentioned the address, “4953, North Sawyer Avenue, Apartment 3, Chicago”. That was the address for Larry Wan (A16), Joseph Lee (C5), and Albert Chan (C17) in 1959-60 when they were attending the North Park College. I had never lived there. I lived in the Trinity College dormitory not far away. Joseph, Larry and I would frequently take a two-hour bus-subway-bus trip to Rev. and Mrs. Paul Han’s house at “8902 South University Avenue” in the south-side of Chicago, to do our laundry and to have a good Chinese meal. In a way, those trips were our entertainment in our freshman year in college. Joseph and ABC wrote each other frequently and I usually got reports of our activities in Chicago from ABC, including what we ate in a particular weekend at the Han’s. Yes, he was a lively letter writer.

Soon in 1962, he came to the United States and studied mathematics, earning a college degree from Tennessee Tech University and a Master’s degree from University of Missouri at Rolla. He married, raised two children, and worked. He worked hard, as hard as he practiced, raced and lived. After a lengthy illness, he died at 1:00 P.M. on March 29, 1989. None of his dorm brothers was present at his funeral.

Sorry, ABC, “shoulder-high we bring you home” not. We were scattered, in Europe, in Australia, in Canada, in San Francisco, and in Chicago. Alan was already home in heaven, waiting for him. Both of them were runners and they would be very happy together again, running and laughing. I remember both of them loved to sing out loud the phrase, Ho La Le (What a Close Shave), and laugh at the special meaning of that phrase. They laughed a lot together and had a lot of private jokes.

ABC and Alan were athletes both, and both dying young. They would have enjoyed growing old together.*

In life, when we were young, ABC was there for me often and brought me joy. But, at his death, I was not there for him. Tonight, I look at many pictures of him yet again. I am able to feel the many memories of our colorful youth. I feel loved. I know he was also loved. He was loved well and was loved by many. He was a Lighter, once the brightest of all Lighters. He was ours. He was also my dorm brother. And he was mine.

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* Alan died much younger, in 1966, in Santa Barbara, California. I wrote “Remembering Sai Mo” on our Lighters Web Page as a Remembrance (Old Time #63). A rare picture of Alan and his wife, Ann, appeared at the end of the article. After graduation, ABC developed a close friendship with Lo Pok-Huen (B?) because they both majored in Physical Education at Grantham College. Pok-Huen and I were very close at Pui Ching due of our mutual interest in writing. Please remember our friend in “Lo Pok-Huen: A Remembrance” on Lighters Web (Talk #465). Pok-Huen, an athlete as well as a musician and a writer, died in 1965 in Kowloon. “Townsman of a stiller town” each, they left behind many friends and fans. They had made Pui Ching a stiller school and made richer our lives and our memories. They are missed.