ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Thursday, February 6, 1997 TAG: 9702060018
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-15 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JANE STANTON HITCHCOCK
CHARLES F. Feeney has restored the good name of Anonymous.
Feeney is the man who donated more than $600 million to charity without insisting that a wing, a chair or a flower be named after him. Just the opposite, in fact. He dispensed his enormous wealth in silence and secrecy, thus giving up such perks as instant social status, galas in his honor and preferred treatment in hard-to-book restaurants - all for the undiluted joy of giving for giving's sake. A real humanitarian. A good guy. A shoo-in for ``Ripley's Believe It or Not.''
Such unheralded munificence is certainly not unknown in American life, though on this scale, in this day and age, it seems like science fiction.
In olden days, like, say, the Middle Ages, it was not rare for men and women to offer up their talents and their purses anonymously for the greater glory of God and their fellow man, rather than for self-aggrandizement.
Who knows who built Chartres Cathedral, for example? The awesome beauty of that particular structure is unencumbered by a commemoration plaque proclaiming ``L'Eglise Trump'' on its facade. And, so far as we know, none of its contributors got to sleep in the Charlemagne Bedroom. In splendor and spirit, Chartres stands as one of mankind's greatest monuments to Anonymous.
Throughout history, countless good deeds and generous acts have gone unrecorded, probably because, until relatively recently, there were no such things as television talk shows, call-in radio and People Magazine.
But let's face it, these are different times. The meek have not inherited the Earth, as promised. Virtue is not its own or anyone else's reward. Beauty is as beauty photographs. And the truth may or may not set you free, depending on whose version you believe. No doubt about it, folks, these are tough, hard-bitten times - times that demand courage and, above all else, incentives.
How, I asked myself recently, can we, as a society, honor Charles F. Feeney and people like him without invading their privacy, while encouraging others to follow in their invisible footsteps?
Here is a possible answer. Use a fraction of the money set aside for campaign financing and set up what shall be now and forever known as The Room of the Unknown Donor.
As I envision it, The Room of the Unknown Donor is located in an unpretentious structure of modest proportions, like, say, a log cabin. Easy to maintain, it is situated in a pristine place surrounded by beautiful spacious skies, amber waves of grain, purple mountain majesties, and fruited plains. A view, in other words, unsullied by buildings with the names of individuals carved in stone on their facades.
Outside, on the front lawn hoisted atop a wooden flagpole, an eternal blank check waves bravely in the breeze. Over the entrance is a painted crest depicting a camel sailing comfortably through the eye of a needle, under which is inscribed, in Latin: ``Donate Tacitum.'' (Roughly translated, that means, ``Give As Much As You Can But Shut Up About It.'')
It is a room where people can sit for a while and contemplate the personal consequences of doing something both satisfying and legal that nobody will find out about. A room where ``kind hearts are more than coronets,'' and ``little acts of unremembered kindness'' hold sway. What goes on spiritually in this room is strictly between you, your god, and the IRS.
And by the way, admission is free, but if you want to make a donation for the upkeep of the place, you can. No one will know.
Jane Stanton Hitchcock is a playwright and novelist.
- The Washington Post
LENGTH: Medium: 68 linesby CNB