DGH Profile: Hal & Cherry Clements By Jonathan Harris

Hal Clements often had a higher purpose in mind, even when he was just walking down the street in his neighborhood. "He picked up empty cans on those walks," remembered his daughter Cathy in a short remembrance that was read at his memorial service this past October. "He often said he could not return home until he filled a plastic bag."

Hal Clements often had a higher purpose in mind, even when he was just walking down the street in his neighborhood. "He picked up empty cans on those walks," remembered his daughter Cathy in a short remembrance that was read at his memorial service this past October. "He often said he could not return home until he filled a plastic bag."

Those dozens, hundreds, thousands of cans which Hal brought home with him on his walks and collected from his congregation at North Decatur United Methodist Church over the years, undoubtedly helped make the world a more beautiful place. The money earned from his weekly trips to the recycling center also helped support the work of many non-profit groups, including DGH health projects, which received over $1,000 over the years from Hal’s tireless recycling efforts.

It was one of many outward indications of just how much this quiet and determined man cared about those around him. Friends and family who knew him well say he worked for the good of others in a sincere way not often seen nowadays. This man, whose favorite theme for living was, "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it," didn’t seek recognition for the things that he did. In fact, because of his natural tendency towards silence and humility, the full and generous scope of his giving will probably never be known. But it will most certainly continue to be felt.

Discoveries are still being made. "He left a request for an endowment to Georgia Southern University for scholarships," said Cherry Clements, his wife of 58 years, who probably knew him better than anyone. "He didn’t tell me or the children about it," she said. She discovered it only after his death. Hal died on October 13th of last year due to complications resulting from a stroke, just short of his twenty-year anniversary volunteering with Meals on Wheels.

The Clements at a fundraising walk for the Wesley Community Center.

Cherry spoke recently about her memories of Hal, while seated at the kitchen table where she has served many an outstanding meal in her Atlanta home. It is the house where Cherry and Hal lived together through more than four decades, and where they raised their children to be environmentally and socially conscious adults. Today, though Cherry is alone, she is as capable as ever. She is surrounded by the awards that she and Hal received both jointly and individually over the years, including the Martin Luther King, Jr. Community Service Award, being named Alumnus of the Year in the Field of Education by Georgia Southern University, and Cherry’s Unsung Heroine Award from the organization 100 Black Women of Atlanta. Cherry says she was inspired to help others by what she experienced as a child growing up in rural Georgia. "I saw so much poverty," she recalls. She in turn inspired Hal. "As I volunteered, Hal went with me," she added.

Though she doesn’t cook as much as she used to, Cherry is especially proud of the culinary legacy of her mother, "Monga M.a." Cherry preserved her cooking secrets by writing her own series of cookbooks.

On a windowsill sits a bird house that Hal built for Cherry. He made more than twenty such personalized birdhouses for different friends over the years and even sold some to benefit Habitat for Humanity, but this one, which he built for his "one and only," is special. A piece of slate from Hal’s birth home in Rockmart, GA, slants down at an angle on the roof. An old Plymouth decal just under the tiny round entrance is a reminder of the wedding gift that Cherry’s father gave them.

Also appearing on the birdhouse are the initials WAND (for the Women’s Action for New Directions—a women’s group Cherry worked particularly hard with) and UMW (for the United Methodist Women). Prominently displayed is also the date on which the two united their lives: June 8, 1941.

"We married when times were hard, just before the war," Cherry remembers. At that time, they were promising grad students, both on prestigious Rosenwald fellowships. They were in their late twenties when they met on a blind date—a picnic one sunny afternoon. They soon fell in love and decided to marry. They didn’t have to wait long for a response from someone who knew them both. "It won’t work," declared the Dean of their graduate school. They got married anyway after graduating and, with $60 in hand, began their new life together.

Hal was an elementary school principal for several years in Claxton, south Georgia, where he earned a reputation of being stern but fair. When he left after six years he had such an outstanding reputation that the local newspaper called his departure an "immeasurable loss" to the school. They noted that he "is a master of detail and has the rare knack of carrying out projects with the minimum of fanfare and the maximum dispatch." The editors of the Claxton Enterprise mourned the loss of Cherry as well, calling her a woman of "vast vitality" who would just as deeply be missed.

During World War II, the Clements moved to Norfolk, Virginia, where Hal enlisted as a Chief Petty Officer in the Navy. During their time there, Cherry was also doing her part for the war effort, in a role not many hear about today. "I was a secret communications officer," she revealed. She and other women were responsible for reading communications logs for the Navy and Cherry was investigated thoroughly before they would give her the position. "They went to every town I had ever lived in to investigate me," she explained.

Cherry Clements presents Dr. Bill Golden, President of the Georgia Southern University Foundation, a check to establish the Cherry W. and Hal W. Clements University Honors Program Scholarship to aid Georgia students in the Honors Program.

After the war, Hal was hired by the Georgia Department of Education, bringing the Clements to Atlanta where they have remained. They picked out a house near the Fernbank Museum of Natural History—a museum Hal swore to never set foot in due to the trees razed for its construction. Cherry became a favorite math teacher of students at Druid Hills High School, where she worked for nineteen years, chairing the department for nine of those years. In fact, she was Lanny Smith’s eighth grade algebra teacher. "She was both vigorous and inspiring, an educator of the first order," recalls Smith fondly. He was obviously not the only one who felt that way: Cherry received several National Science Foundation scholarships over the years, which she used to study and constantly improve her knowledge and technique. In 1971, she was voted Outstanding Math Teacher in the State of Georgia and was named Atlanta Woman of the Year in Education.

All that time, Cherry and Hal were becoming an indispensable part of the Atlanta community as educators, church members and community activists. Cherry also gained a name for herself as a gifted cook. She served up food to the Gores and Clintons during a Habitat for Humanity event, and also fed the homeless and lucky church goers. One of her children once wrote that Cherry could "‘get up’ a meal...in less time than it takes most cooks to make out a menu." Hal, of course, benefited from her cooking over the years and even had his own meal named after him in one of her many self-published cookbooks. His meal consisted of stuffed peppers, pasta, stewed apples and bread pudding. For a man who craved hearty comfort foods, Cherry’s culinary artistry was unequalled as a source of satisfaction.

Following Cherry’s lead, Hal became involved in numerous causes after his retirement in 1980. These included becoming Founding Board Members of DGH, joining The Open Door Community, The Atlanta Women’s Day Shelter and the Appalachian Women’s Alliance. The latter reports it has received more donations in Hal’s honor (after his death) than during any other donations drive in its history. Hal also served with Cherry on the board of Habitat for Humanity and undertook so many small causes championing peace and justice that no one will ever know of them all. "He wasn’t in it for the show," remembered Reverend Jimmy Moor, who was Head Pastor at the North Decatur United Methodist Church for four years while Hal and Cherry were members. "He was in it because he thought it was right and what needed to be done." Moor grew to know Hal through his regular church attendance and his tireless activities. But for Moor, it was the caring relationship that Hal developed with Moor’s son, Josh, during an intergenerational faith project at the church that was most meaningful to him. "Hal was never condescending to anyone. He continued to talk to Josh and to communicate and keep up with him after the process finished." When Hal was hospitalized, Moor visited him and, though he could hardly speak, Hal asked him about Josh. "He always did," Moor said.

That caring gentle side of Hal was something his children also grew to see in their stern father as they got older. Cathy vividly remembers when she first became aware of it during her first month at college, "Daddy sent me roses. I learned then about a gentle, loving side I had not paid attention to before." His other daughter, Judy, was well aware of the things he did for others. "Whether it was taking mulch to Sally Wylde’s community garden or taking Jane Wright to therapy sessions after her shoulder surgery or taking a birdhouse for Rob Holley’s real estate office, he valued people and he made them his friends," she wrote.

Hal was gentle in approach, but could be incredibly stubborn. "He had his steel side," Reverend Moor said. "He didn’t let you push him around or make fools out of people. He stood up when it was necessary." Out of all the many things he did, Hal considered his greatest accomplishment to be his nineteen years delivering food with Meals on Wheels. Every Friday, Hal would spend several hours delivering meals and chatting with people along his route.

He was also, like his wife, extremely generous. Cherry and Hal always kept separate checking accounts so that they could support the groups and causes they wanted without interference from the other, a tactic which she believes helped them live in marital bliss through the years. Hal was in charge of the finance committee for DGH and at the first ever board meeting, he and Cherry wrote the check that took the group’s newly founded treasury to $1,000, to ‘ even things up,’ as they wrote on a note that DGH’s treasurer Renee Smith still has and cherishes.

"A giant has fallen," preached Reverend Moor at Hal’s memorial service. "He grew into the image of God and let that image direct his life." As hundreds of friends, colleagues and family members packed into North Decatur Methodist Church to say goodbye, Moor remembered Hal with words of the prophet Micah 6:8. Words he believes personify Hal Clements better than any other. "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?" Hal Clements, who surely strove to live by those words, will be dearly missed by us all.