Understated Heroism

Dot and Arthur Kannard might debate you on that one, though.

 

After all, they just did what they were called upon to do. Nothing more. Nothing less. That’s what they would tell you, anyway.

 

Dot and Arthur didn’t earn the enduring label of “hero” for a single act of courage.  There was not one dramatic moment, emblazoned in memory, that might scroll through your head years later. Their heroism was more understated than that, and it manifested itself through their humility and authenticity and without fanfare over a period of decades.

 

When Dot and Arthur were well into middle age, their family grown and their life together relatively quiet, they became legal guardians of their young grandsons R.T. and Ryan Taylor, took them into their home, taught them to be honest, disciplined, and self-reliant, provided them life-altering opportunities, and raised them to be upstanding citizens.

 

“Every day, day in, day out, they lived their lives the right way,” Ryan said. “I wouldn’t be who I am today without them.”

 

“They are my heroes,” said R.T. “Both of them.”

 

Dot, who passed away August 29, worked in Collegiate’s Lower School cafeteria from 1959 until 2008 and in Cougar Care until she retired in 2010. September 20 would have been her 90^th birthday. Arthur, whom she married Christmas Eve 1953, spent much of his long career as sales and operations manager for J.L. Culpepper Co., a local snack food distributor. He passed away July 4, 2020.

 

Throughout their almost 67-year marriage, they were a great team, committed to each other, their professions, their friends, and, very much so, to R.T. and Ryan.

 

That meant love in abundance. It also meant discipline, administered, their grandsons understood, not to them but for them.

 

“Whatever Grandma and Grandad said, went,” R.T. recalled.  “That was it. The times were few and far between when we butted heads. I didn’t know there was an option not to do what they said.”

 

Respect for others was a guiding principle.

 

“Absolutely,” R.T. continued. “It was ‘Yes, sir,’ ‘No, sir,’ ‘Yes, ma’am,’ ‘No, ma’am.’ Look people in the eye when you speak to them. Shake hands firmly.”

 

Ryan concurred.

 

“Our grandparents wanted us to be young adults and make choices and even wrong choices,” he said. “We understood that if we misbehaved or were rude or didn’t to the right thing, there were consequences. That was a good thing for us. They never got mad when they punished us. It was to make us better. They talked to us about it. I never took it personally.”

 

When R.T. was a toddler and Ryan still in diapers, the brothers moved into the Kannard’s three-bedroom, one-bath, 1,200-square-foot rancher which sat on two acres near the Innsbrook area of Glen Allen.

 

Once they were old enough, the lads spent considerable time riding bicycles and dirt bikes, fishing, and playing on the neighboring farm land. They also learned the old-school value of hard work, which they carried with them into part-time jobs and, ultimately, their professional lives.

 

“There was definitely structure,” R.T. recalled. “We had to pull weeds, scrub the kitchen floor, do chores outside. Inside, too. You had to do work around the house before you went out and played.”

 

Dot and Arthur enrolled R.T. at Collegiate in the second grade and Ryan in the third. R.T graduated in 1993. Ryan remained through the tenth grade and spent his last two high school years, 1995-1997, at Fork Union Military Academy.

 

School days in the Kannard household required tight scheduling and strict attention to time management.

 

After rising early and preparing breakfast, Dot would take the guys to Collegiate. Since her job in the cafeteria ended before the boys’ dismissal time, she’d run errands, then return for them. Evenings were no less hectic.

 

Logistics became a bit trickier with club soccer and after-school sports practices and games, but Dot and Arthur always found a way not just to ferry their grandsons from place to place but to attend as many of their events as they could. Actually, the situation notwithstanding, Dot and Arthur always “found a way.”

 

“Grandma was more the day-to-day grinder,” R.T. said.  “Grandad would bookend it with all the life lessons.”

 

Studying, completing assignments, and striving for academic excellence were expectations. Indeed, focus, detail, and a see-the-job-through-to-the-end mentality were priorities.

 

“When I think of my grandmother,” Ryan said, “I think of her perseverance. She had limited time for herself every day. That’s a pretty big statement when you make that kind of sacrifice.

 

“Our grandparents’ actions spoke louder than words. They made sure we had the basics: hot meals, a roof over our head, clothes, and education. They weren’t super emotional people. They never complained. The way they showed love was by being there and being active in our lives.”

 

R.T., a Hampden-Sydney College graduate, is a vice-president in the public finance group of Davenport & Co. He and Daphne, his wife of 22 years, have two children, their son Brooks, 18, a freshman at H-SC, and daughter Parrish, 16, a junior at Thomas Dale High School.

What, I asked him, did you learn from your grandparents that you’ve applied to parenting your children?

 

“Demonstrating by example,” he replied. “Work ethic. Trying to use a measured tone. Just keeping a watchful eye but allowing them to make mistakes so you can explain why things didn’t necessarily work out in their favor. Give them guardrails without being overly oppressive. My grandparents didn’t rule with an iron fist. They didn’t have to. I was very appreciative that they were taking care of us. Who could argue with that?”

 

Ryan is an entrepreneur whose first of numerous successful ventures was a Smoothie King in Carytown.  He now works as a technical program manager for Amazon Web Services. He and his wife Rosy wed this past December.

 

What, I asked him, were the greatest lessons you learned from your grandparents?

 

“That no matter the business you’re in, it’s all about people: managing people and having relationships with people,” he responded. “That’s what made them so successful. That’s what they taught us. My grandparents are my heroes. They were so humble. They lived their values every day. They never wavered. They were so content and happy with their lives. They didn’t talk. They delivered.”

~Weldon Bradshaw