Charles Hodge Biederman, 77, of Rochester, died June 5, 2007 at Dartmouth-Hitchcock in Lebanon, N.H.

Charlie meant a lot of things to a lot of people, from his family and legions of friends, to his colleagues at work, to those he helped through the innumerable causes he took on.

And yet a common thread runs through the memories that many have of him, something well beyond the recollections of his shock of white hair and wide smile. Though he succumbed on June 5 to a string of health problems, Charlie is widely remembered for his natural ability to bring out the best in just about everyone he met.

Charlie didn't just dive into projects alone; he had the knack of pulling in everyone around him. "I'll always think of him as a collector of people," says Art Conway, who served with Charlie in the Mad River Valley Rotary Club. "He loved to bring people together, stir the pot and watch what would happen."

Often what happened was a better life for people in distant lands. "Dad took his responsibility as a citizen on this planet very seriously," says his daughter, Martha Abbene, of San Francisco. "He got tremendous joy from making the world a better place."

"Charlie really believed in fighting injustice and doing the right thing," notes his son, Bill, who lives in Ripton, Vermont. "He had no interest in material things unless they'd benefit those in need."

In 1997, within two years of retiring and moving to Rochester, Vermont, Charlie had recruited the first of several local Rotary teams that would not only travel to distant countries but also ship medical, educational and earthquake relief supplies to people in Pakistan, Afghanistan and India.

Charlie also volunteered his time to the adaptive sports program at Sugarbush. On winter mornings he could be found on the mountain, guiding a blind person around the turns or helping an amputee learn to ski.

"He couldn't stand being bored," recalls Carol Biederman, Charlie's wife of 53 years. Even their vacations included what others might call "work" but what to them was fun, such as teaching English to kids in China and Italy.

Charlie was born in Chicago in 1929. Eye problems from a childhood injury kept him confined to a dark room for a year. If that experience could have brought on his aversion to boredom, it could also have sparked his lifelong love of books. Day after day his mother read to him. When he returned to school, he had learned so much that he skipped ahead three grades.

Carol also suspects that Charlie gained his concern for the plights of others by growing up during the Great Depression. People would often come to the back door of their house looking for food and money. His father had managed to hang onto his job and Charlie frequently saw him, his mother and grandparents providing what they could to those less fortunate.

Charlie graduated from high school in 1947 and went straight into the Army. He served for 18 months and then entered the University of Wisconsin, graduating with a journalism degree in 1952. While still in college, he was recruited by General Electric to work in its advertising and sales promotion department. A stint in Schenectady, N.Y., was followed by one in San Jose, Calif., In 1961 he left GE to work in marketing for Babcock and Wilcox in New York City. In 1967 he moved to the ad agency Muller, Jordan & Herrick, where, among other responsibilities, he handled the Head ski account.

Through that work, Charlie discovered the mountains of Vermont. He quickly introduced Carol and their two small children to the fun and beauty of the state. Eventually they bought an old farmhouse in Roxbury and for years packed it with friends over weekends and holidays.

Charlie returned to GE in 1972. At a welcome-back party, he was given a "Boomerang Award" by Kurt Vonnegut, who'd worked with Charlie during his first tenure with the company.

Charlie managed GE marketing communications teams in Stamford, Conn., and Louisville, Ky., until 1981, when he and Carol took a year off to travel and live in Europe. Upon his return he became communications manager for GE Credit. In 1989, he left GE for good and became the director of public affairs for the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in Livermore, California.

"When I was a kid our neighbors wondered why my father always seemed to be changing jobs," says Bill. "He was way ahead of his time."

Charlie's colleagues in the corporate world remember him as the consummate mentor. Buford Barr, who worked at GE for many years with Charlie and now teaches at Santa Clara University in California, says, "Even today, my standard in working a dilemma is 'What would Charlie do?' It always leads me to the right decision."

T.J. Gilmartin, a scientist at the Livermore lab, comments that "Charlie was a great and formative friend. He showed me a whole new direction in life, more social and political than scientific. He also introduced me to the idea of doing communal good and having great fun at it, to wind surfing, and to leading an inquisitive and open life."

Bill and others remember Charlie as a man who led by "giving others the confidence to excel. He was a man who would shield those he was working with from useless minutia so that they could do what they needed to do without distraction."

At Livermore, Charlie became deeply involved with the local chapter of Rotary International and its civic projects. He volunteered to tutor inmates at a local jail. According to Carol, "He taught one guy how to read the stock market pages so that when he got out he'd at least know an honest way to invest money."

Charlie retired from Livermore in 1995 and headed for Vermont. Though he and Carol had sold the Roxbury place years before, in 1994, anticipating retirement, they bought and began renovating a house in Rochester.

"As soon as he arrived Charlie took a big interest in our town," recalls Marion Leonard of Rochester. "He wanted to get involved and help to make it even better."

In 2000 Charlie was elected to the Rochester Selectboard, where he served for two three-year terms, the second as chair. Though he didn't run for a third term, he was appointed for another year to fill out the term of a member who left the board.

"Charlie brought positive thinking and a wonderful energy to whatever he worked on," says Sandy Haas, Rochester's representative in the Vermont Statehouse. "He was the prime mover on a long-term vision for our whole valley, and he tempered his vision with a strong sense of practical reality."

Leonard says, "Charlie was always willing to listen to other opinions, and used his work to find out who he was and why he was here. He brought a wonderful light to this town."

Gerry Carlo, a friend from Puerto Rico, had just bought a second home in Rochester when he met Charlie. "Charlie welcomed us to the community right away. He was eager to make us feel part of it," notes Carlo. "He was always reaching out."

Vacationing with Carlo, his wife, Idalia, and Carol on the Puerto Rican island of Vieques, Charlie was far more interested in the how well the military was cleaning up abandoned bombing ranges than in working on his tan.

Charlie remained active nearly to the end. This past winter he skied several times with family and friends at Sugarbush and Middlebury Snow Bowl, although he now had to stash an oxygen bottle under his parka. After news broke about poor patient care at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Charlie gathered an ad-hoc group of citizens to check conditions at the Veterans Administration hospital in White River Junction. Though it turned out not to be necessary, Charlie was prepared to help the medical team there get whatever help they needed to provide the care he felt veterans deserved.

By May, pulmonary fibrosis was slowly robbing him of his breath and ability to exercise. Carol has a small notebook that Charlie used to record memos and musings. In it he noted his doctor's instructions: "Running is over. Breath won't come back." Then - ever the positive thinker - he jotted down what was still open to him, "Reading, travel, social events, dinner, politics, mentoring, teaching."

On June 2, not feeling well, Charlie asked Carol to call an ambulance to take him to Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center. He was diagnosed with pneumonia and put on strong antibiotics.

Though his condition worsened, Martha reports that the personality she treasured as "irreverent" was still at the peak of health. Commenting on what it felt like to breathe through oxygen tubes that kept filling with condensation, he remarked, "It's fine, assuming that you like being waterboarded."

After Charlie died, Gilmartin sent out an e-mail with a message that many would echo: "I will never forget Charlie, because I am some of what he gave me. And I will love him and be inspired by him until I come to my end."

Charlie is survived by his wife, Carol Biederman; his daughter, Martha Abbene, his son, Bill Biederman; and his grandchildren, Kate Abbene, of San Francisco, and Emma Biederman, Gus Biederman, Annie Nicholson and Linus Biederman, all of Ripton. He is also leaves a sister, Margaret Winter, of Phoenix, Arizona.

There will be no service. The family will host an open house at their home in Rochester on July 21 from 3-7pm. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations can be made to the Rochester Public Library in care of Jeannette Bair, or to The Center for Valley Youth at Pierce Hall, both on Main Street in Rochester, VT 05767. Donations also would be greatly appreciated payable to The Rotary Foundation and mailed to The Mad River Valley Rotary Club, PO Box 267, Waitsfield, VT 05673. These funds will be used to foster women's education in Afghanistan and Pakistan.