I met Charley in 1978 during the preparation for the World Esperanto Congress in Varna, Bulgaria — he worked at the Headquarters of the World Esperanto Association organizing the events. When he entered the office of the Bulgarian Esperanto Association, upon seeing me, he hit his head on the door’s frame — stricken from the first sight! We, several girls, started laughing… We worked together to solve endless problems, since the whole of Eastern Europe was at the Black Sea in August, and to accommodate 5000 Esperantists was a heroic effort.

We were good friends for several years, with special feelings on his side and not even a thought to leave ever Bulgaria on mine. But realizing how different he was from the other boys: devoted, intelligent, well-read, I started to change.

In 1984 I traveled to North America giving lectures about earthquakes (my field) at various Esperanto conferences in Los Angeles, Portland etc., which Charley helped to arrange. On the way to the Canadian consulate in Los Angeles to apply for a visa to participate in the World Esperanto Congress in Vancouver, someone shot at our car! I got the visa, and an enormous fright! I could not live in a dangerous country, and he would not move to mine. So, the things stalled. Some years later, I realized Charley was my destiny and I moved to US in 1990 as his fiance.

Our wedding was as unusual as our story: Far from families and friends, we were married at the court at Ellicott City, then he took me to his favorite restaurant (Pizza Hut), ordered a big pizza for home, and we ate it with a small bottle of Bulgarian champagne. I had my best dress, a red one (an ancient Bulgarian tradition), which shocked his clan.

Charley was one of the top well-read Americans, with deep knowledge of literature, history, science and culture. On our honeymoon to Florida to meet his granny, aunt and cousins, he took a book on quantum electrodynamics since he hadn’t had a time to read it! Well, Disneyworld and excursions around Tampa prevented him to read, but with his cousin they went to check the bookstores around, and left me on the beach to bake as a red lobster. He always traveled with books and used any minute to read. And his book collection is enormous! He inspired me to write when I started to travel later and I published my book, in Bulgarian — too bad, he never was able to read it.

We were active members of the Esperanto movement in DC area. Charley retired at age of 60 using the opportunity of a buyout offered at the Department of Justice, where he worked as an economist for 29 years; also he started having health problems. He spent 13 years in the retirement of his dream, surrounded by lots of books, DVD movies, classical music (he was the last person to “play” on the piano of Beethoven — as a child his mother took him to the house-museum, he jumped under the rope and started working, the same night a fire broke out and the piano burned down).

He participated in discussions on a great scope of topics thanks to the Internet with friends far and wide. Home was his fortress. We gave each other some good scares: His sedentary lifestyle worried me that he was getting more and more sicknesses — I wanted him to be around for a long time, also I worried how I could have the strength to take care of him. On the other hand, my travels — mostly solo, far and wide in the world — certainly made him to worry about my safety, but I always sent emails from jungles, deserts, mountains, middle of Nile on a felucca boat (with a tour group) that I was OK and I would be back. He was always loving and supportive to me, with a good heart about others and great sense of humor.

I will miss him greatly!

RIP

– Daniela Power

Mi estas korrompita ekscii pri la forpaso de mia kolego kaj amiko Karlo Pov. Ni laboris kune en la Centra Oficejo en Roterdamo. Post la laborhoroj li regalis nin per multaj ludoj, kiuj refreŝigis nin. Pli dolorige estas scii, ke li suferis en siaj lastaj monatoj. Mi riverencas antaŭ lia memoro.

– Stefan MacGill

I first met Charles Power, or Karl Pov as I knew him, when I was in high school in the San Francisco area, and Charles had just been hired to run an Esperanto book service and information center in San Mateo that Cathy and Bill Schulze had previously operated out of their nearby home. From my perspective as a 15-year-old boy, Charles was living the dream life: He was living independently and speaking, reading and writing in Esperanto all day. On top of that, he was kind and generous, had a great sense of humor, and was extremely knowledgeable about everything related to Esperanto. He was my hero and I thought he had the perfect life.

Perhaps because of this, I remember being shocked one day when Bill Schulze told me that he was concerned about Charles. It seems that Charles did not have a lot of experience living on his own and had especially poor cooking skills, so he was eating macaroni and cheese almost every day. I was surprised for two reasons: First, eating macaroni and cheese every day actually sounded pretty good to me, and second, it hadn’t occurred to me that Charles could have any flaws. I don’t know how this problem was ever resolved, if it was, but I do know that Charles eventually left us and went on to a very successful life and career in Europe (and eventually back in the US). Europe was very far away back then and I didn’t have much contact with him in the decades since, but he never stopped being my hero. Ripozu en paco, amiko.

– Grant Goodall

In Esperanto, my friend called himself “Karl Pov” — or “Charles Power”, a pun on his name, which can also be translated “Charles Can.” He certainly could, and he certainly had power. He served his country for decades as a government official, most recently at the Department of Justice for many years.

He was my good friend for over half a century. I knew him mostly as a lifelong devotee of the international language Esperanto. He mastered this ingenious created language and joined its idealistic movement at a very young age and promoted it all his life.

He served as secretary of the Esperanto Association of Los Angeles, where I met him. Then he was hired as Permanent Convention Secretary of the Universal Esperanto Association based in Rotterdam, Holland. There he organized World Esperanto Congresses all over the world for many years. At his first such congress, in Varna, Bulgaria, he met his lovely future wife, Daniela.

Later he lived in Maryland for many years and contributed greatly to the Esperanto movement here in the DMV. Bringing Daniela here, of course, brightened all our lives as well as the local Esperanto community.

It takes a lot of strength, conviction and, yes, power to serve an ideal like that of Esperanto with such lofty goals, a massive challenge of a cause — that a language invented by one man in 1887 could become the second language for all mankind.

Karlo ja povis. Charles could. And did. With intelligence, creativity, dedication and humor — all of which you need when you’re trying to help push the language of world peace and brotherhood up the Mount Everest of cynicism.

This poem by the Hungarian Esperanto poet J.N. Benczur comes to mind:

“Malsamaj Vidpunktoj”

Ni ĉiuj havas malsamajn vidpunktojn.
Niaj pensoj kaj kredoj malsamas,
Sed ni ĉiuj vivas kun amo.
La vivo estas senfina,
Morto estas nur malgranda paŭzo.
Niaj pensoj kaj kredoj malsamas,
Sed ni ĉiuj vivas kun amo.

[We all have different views.
Our thoughts and beliefs vary.
Life is endless,
Death only a brief pause.
Our thoughts and beliefs vary,
But we all live with love.]

When I think of Charles, I hear in my head an original Esperanto reggae song called “Dankon” — “thank you”. The refrain is:

“Mi volas diri dankon al miaj plej bonaj amikoj en la mondo” — “I want to say thank you to my best friends in the world.”

That song of course makes me think of Charles Power, and I thank him for being one of my best friends in the world.

In Esperanto, as in French, we don’t say “goodbye.” We say instead, “Ĝis revido” — until we meet again.

Karlo, kara amiko, dankon, kaj ĝis revido.

– Jim Ryan