It is an unusually warm autumn day, the golden afternoon sun spilling through the enclosed porch windows. You can hear the children’s laughter as they skip home from school, the rumble of cars on the road and the faint whistle of wind chimes in the breeze, mingling with the song of birds. A man sits on his porch with an expression as shifting as the day itself: his blue eyes quickly dance in pure joy, narrow in dismay or soften in memory. Charles “Chuck” Keller, as his friends and family will tell you, is never one to feel lightly or live half-heartedly.
“The community is only as good as we make it,” Keller said. “So let’s make it good.”
This philosophy guided him through 34 years as an educator, influencing generations of students and leaving an impact that reaches far beyond the classroom. Instead of retiring, (a word he disapproves of) Keller has spent the last ten years reinventing, reimagining and renewing.
“I think young,” Keller said. “Joy, curiosity, new experiences, new people. If you ever get so stuck in your ways, you will never get out of that rut. You just have to keep evolving and moving.”
Now, he serves as chairman of the Fort Thomas Forest Conservancy board. An avid enjoyer of nature, Keller grew up surrounded by trees, backpacking and camping in the woods. This love can be seen in his home, which is full of well-worn relics, repurposed wood and plenty of plants
Keller’s backyard is a sea of orange and yellow autumn leaves, occasionally picked up by the wind and dancing in circles before settling down. A large white pine towers over the other trees, the first Christmas tree he and his wife ever owned–planted, nurtured and grown.
“I would tell my students, we’re going to do something today that I’m not going to see. I’m not going to see you blossom for years, but I’m going to plant the seed now. I’m going to water it, I’m going to fertilize it, and then I will see this bloom later,” Keller said.
Keller sees the parallels between teaching others and growing a garden. Both require attention and patience. His garden lies dormant in the fall, quietly waiting, but during the spring it is a bustling, blossoming beauty of overgrown native plants.
One gloomy day, years ago, Keller saw one of his students trudging home from Highlands High School in the rain. Fort Thomas, being such a close-knit town, he offered to drive her home. During this car ride, she expressed her worries about grades. Keller pulled over to give Bonnie Jean Feldkamp a message she would never forget.
“Listen,” Keller said. “School has no effect on your success in life. What you’re doing here at this school has no influence at all on what you’re going to do. Pay attention to what you really want and pursue that. And then the learning will follow. Everything you need to know will fall into place.”
Feldkamp would go on to become a journalist, winning several awards and even write about that pivotal conversation with her English teacher.
“Chuck Keller has been one of my consistent people since I was a teenager. In his classroom, he taught me to be brave and confident among peers,” Feldkamp wrote in an article published on the website Creators on June 17, 2022.
Keller has battled cancer three times in his life. However, he is adamant about two things. One, he wants no pity, and two, he is certainly not a victim. Pity, Keller says, is an unproductive emotion. What is essential is moving forward.
“I am not a cancer victim. I wasn’t mugged. I wasn’t beaten up. My identity wasn’t stolen. I am a patient. I am sick, that’s all,” Keller said.
Keller was open about his cancer journey, chronicling it in a column for “Fort Thomas Matters”, a local media outlet. The community rallied around him and his wife, providing support through food donations and rides to treatment. In return, he sought to give back, organizing blood and book drives as part of what he called “Team Chuck”.
“Through my illness, we hoped to be able to positively affect other people throughout the community. It’s like this is a learning opportunity for everybody else,” Keller said. “Here’s the story, learn from it. It’s my lesson plan.”
Keller’s love of music has also provided him a way to give back. As a member of the Chalk Brothers band, he regularly performs gigs. Believing that talent should be used for good, he once set out to help a music teacher who had a devastating brain tumor. He performed alongside other bands at a local venue to raise around $10,000 to help with medical expenses.
“I’m not a doctor. I can’t help anybody’s particular physical condition, but what I can do is offer my heart, and that’s a different kind of medicine,” Keller said.
Keller never had kids of his own, as he saw his students as his children. Students have chosen him to be a godfather, surrogate grandfather or merely a friend. It is evident that his students still consider him to be an important part of their lives. One of these students was Jennifer Summer.
She came into class one day visibly distraught, tears streaming down her face. Keller, concerned, found out her dog had died. He discreetly passed her a note of encouragement, a small gesture meant to bring comfort. This letter would remain unseen for nearly three decades until her aunt unexpectedly mailed him that very letter this past summer.
“She’s held onto it for all these years. What I thought was like a written hug stayed with her,” Keller said.
As he says this, his hand unconsciously slips over his heart, gently rubbing his chest. Eyes red-rimmed, he offers a bittersweet, fond smile. The small things can go a long way.
“You had to know Jenn, but for her to have kept that letter for 20-plus years was pretty amazing. And not only kept it but treasured it,” Deb Reker said
Reker sits in her dining room surrounded by endless photos of her family. As Summer’s aunt, referred to as Mama Deb, she initially knew Keller as her niece’s teacher, but over the years he has remained a close friend of the family.
“He taught her the importance of words, not how to use them abundantly, but how to use them in the best way,” Reker said
Summer had a penchant for writing, and Keller’s influence on her was indelible. She was also a talented photographer who liked to capture nature. Reker recalls a moment on Kelleys Island, Ohio when Summer suddenly dropped to the ground to photograph a small, unassuming ant.
“Jennifer was an amazing person. How Jennifer could sit and see the beauty of an ant pulling a little leaf,” Reker said. “She stayed there for quite a while, and then she wrote one sentence about this ant that was fantastic.”
Summer was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2017 and passed away in February 2020. As others describe her, she was a “wild child” with a heart of gold, always willing to do anything for those she loved.
Dakota Summer is Jennifer Summer’s only son. He studies at Northern Kentucky University and carries on her passion for storytelling through writing and film. In honor of his mother, he and Reker recently established the Jennifer Summer Memorial Scholarship, which awards Highlands High School seniors who pursue creative endeavors. Keller was quick to volunteer to be on the judging committee.
“Chuck had such a big impact on her that he kind of just became very significant in the family,” Dakota Summer said.
Their family is one of many that Keller has helped. Reker remembers when her mother died, or when she was ill and Keller supported Jennifer Summer and her family through those difficult times.
“When you think of Chuck, you think of somebody that overcame horrible odds, went through hell to get there and when he was going through hell, he was concerned that everybody else was okay,” Reker said.
As the day fades and the branches shake their remaining golden leaves, the sunlight moves off Keller’s face and instead spills onto the lawn, over the blades of grass and illuminating the world in oversaturated, bright colors.
“I don’t think a pebble thinks about its effect when it hits the water and the ripples it will make,” Keller said. “But I think we can.”