The late Van McLeod, whose child-like enthusiasm brightened a room like a 200-watt bulb, never said a word.
Five years ago, after a long yet successful battle against cancer, this giant within the state’s arts community learned he had a genetic condition that affected his lungs and liver. But his daughter, Chelsea, told a standing-room-only crowd Friday at St. Paul’s Church that she learned of his illness shortly before he died.
“He never told anyone,” said Chelsea, a grade-school teacher. “The only people who knew were my mom and the doctors. He put me first so I could live my life and not rush home every weekend to make sure he was okay.”
Chelsea’s words filled the cavernous church, with its high ceiling and huge columns, as the humidity choked the city outside. She was the first to speak, and her poignant, detailed description of her relationship with her father, who died on Monday at the age of 70, highlighted the memorial service.
Van McLeod was the longtime commissioner of the state Department of Cultural Resources. He organized trade shows, helping the public understand how state agencies worked. He founded theater programs in Concord schools. He advocated for the arts as critical components to tourism and the state’s economy, and he fought against budget cuts like a heavyweight boxing champion. He stimulated conversation with friends through his playful intellect.
He had an impact. That was obvious about a half-hour before the ceremony began, when the pews began filling up. By show time, hundreds were packed inside, including a few dozen who were forced to stand in the back, near the doors.
The list of those in attendance read like a who’s who of city culture, politics and business. Sen. Kelly Ayotte and Gov. Maggie Hassan, who are locked in a campaign battle for Ayotte’s U.S. Senate seat, were there.
Hassan was a featured speaker, saying that McLeod “made sure everyone had an important role to play,” in the city’s arts scene.
She described McLeod’s “boyishness,” adding that he seemed “young and fresh.
“He strengthened our state’s spirit through the arts,” Hassan added.
Former Congressman Paul Hodes, a lifelong friend of McLeod’s, spoke as well. His booming voice, hand gestures and funny anecdotes received an ovation when he was done.
“Van was a full tilt whack job,” Hodes said, “and we loved him.”
Hodes poked fun at McLeod’s golf game. He noted that McLeod would tell anyone who’d listen that his father was the U.S. ambassador to Ireland and he knew Walt Disney. He said his friend, in his younger days, was a “long-haired hippie in a suit,” and in fact McLeod was shown in a movie called Festival Express, which featured a train tour across Canada starring such counterculture heroes as Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead and The Band.
“He was the most forward thinking, optimistic person I’ve ever met,” Hodes said. “He was a connector of people. Just look around this room.”
Steve Duprey, a local giant in business and Republican politics, also spoke. Duprey said that his friend loved everything the movie theater experience had to offer, right down to the previews before the movie and the credits after. Duprey said if McLeod’s Wife, Joan, wasn’t ready on time, he’d drive to the theater without her.
“He would make her drive separately,” Duprey said. “After the movie he’d review the previews. It was important for me to know who Matt Damon’s hair stylist was.”
Duprey added that McLeod had a dream: to win an Oscar. So Duprey gave him one, the People’s Oscar. He opened an envelope and announced, “The category is for the best way, way, way too short movie. And the winner is, The Incredible Life of Van.”
Everyone stood and cheered, as Duprey had asked them to do.
But with all the humor and accomplishments attached to McLeod by longtime friends, his 26-year-old daughter stole the show. She said her father used to play dress up in the morning with her when she was a little girl. He took her out for ice cream and rocked on the pirate ship ride at Canobie Lake Park.
“He said he felt sick for three days (after the ride),” Chelsea said. “He took me everywhere I wanted to go.”
Years ago, Chelsea’s father would return from cancer treatment in Boston worn out, yet he always had time for his daughter.
“He would come home and have a tea party with me in my little plastic house,” Chelsea said. “He never let me know he was tired. He always wanted to make me happy, even if he was exhausted or scared.”
And years later, after McLeod got sick again, he never said a word.