Billy G.

During my first year teaching full-time at my college, I received a Valentine's Day card. I was addressed to me and was signed "Billy G." I had no idea who this was, and I didn't say anything out of fear that it might be a student who had misplaced his affections. The second time I received a card, though, I noticed that lots of other people had also gotten a card from Billy G. When I asked some of them if they know who he was, they told me it was one of my colleagues who teaches in the Reading Department. Every year since then, without fail, I have received a card on Valentine's Day from him, and so has every other employee at the college. It's a campus legend at this point.

On Friday night, we celebrated Billy G. and his 47 years of teaching at our school. He has been a full-time teacher longer than I have been alive, yet he has more energy than I do most days. He gets so excited talking about his classes and his students and the subject of opera that he literally jumps in the air. He is so beloved by his students, and I have yet to meet another teacher or staff member or administrator who doesn't have fond words to say about him.

In addition to reading classes, he has been teaching an Opera Appreciation class for many years now, and he would arrange trips to New York during Spring Break for members of his class and other interested people. One year, Partner At The Time and I went on this trip. I had never been to an opera in my life. My first was Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg (or something close to that) at the Metropolitan Opera House. Billy G. was our guide and host. We walked out after nearly four hours of opera, and he was so excited that he wanted to go clubbing or to a coffee shop and talk for hours. (He must be in his 70s, at least.) Not even a full day of sightseeing and intense Wagnerian drama could tire him out.

Whenever he sees me on campus, Billy G. always puts his hands on my shoulders and says, to anyone who happens to be nearby, "I love this guy!" If you're ever in a bit of a down mood, he's sure to make you feel better. I've never walked away from a conversation with him without feeling happier.

On Friday, we ate a lot of pasta, we had a few toasts and tributes, we sang (badly) a farewell song to the tune of "O Solo Mio," and we hugged Billy G. We also listened to one of the most gracious farewell speeches. He paid tribute to his colleagues more than anything else, and it was touching to see so many people who had retired even before I started work there in 1994 come back to honor him on this special night.

Next year, there will be no Valentine's Day card from Billy G., and I don't know who is going to grab me by the shoulders and say, "I love this guy!" any more. One of the great ones is retiring and moving to Oregon to be near his family, and our college will be all the poorer for no longer having his shining presence.