A 92-year-old died Wednesday in a retirement facility in Coralville, Iowa and I just read about it on Facebook. His name was Audra "Bud" Williams and I honestly had no idea he was still living until Feb. 12. I can't recall the last time I saw him, but it must have been years and years ago.
There is no practical news value in this information. A 92-year-old has certainly seen a lot and hung in there and lived beyond an average lifespan, but the news often will mark this sort of milestone. For me, I was suddenly time-traveling to Nov. 22, 1963, as I sat in Bud's history class at Central Junior High School as an 8th grader fascinated by the amount of white shin that was revealed when the teacher would lift one foot onto an empty chair while telling us a story.
I do know that I avoided taking that sort of stance during my own teaching career, wanting to avoid that sort of display. On an unrelated note, seeing a fellow teacher who consistently wore a tie with a short-sleeved dress shirt made a similar impact. I vowed to never make that wardrobe choice unless under duress. Then again, I am the guy in church choir who wears a suit or jacket and tie every Sunday, stubbornly refusing to submit to the informal nature of Colorado church services. Plus, I own some decent suits, though all are over 20 years old.
On that November day, the school PA blared out a sudden announcement that school was dismissed for the day (and it was about 1:30 p.m., about half an hour after the news broke). President John F. Kennedy had been shot in Dallas and was dead.
That was a long, trying weekend at our house. Lots of crying and being glued to the TV. It all seemed very strange to my 13-year-old self, that's for sure.
I had been in fifth grade at Roosevelt Elementary during the Kennedy-Nixon election and had been campaign manager for the eventual victor during our in-class election. I recall making quite a few posters and giving an introduction to whomever was playing Kennedy in the class debate. I remember precisely zero about that debate and wonder if that sort of "lifelike" experience happens any more in American classrooms.
After all, one false move, one provocative statement, and one surreptitious video shot by an enterprising student and shared with dad might end a teaching career.
And those memories from my youth MAY have something to do with the disappointment I feel concerning Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., and his nuttiness. That he is now Secretary of HHS seems like a joke missing a punchline. I guess it's not his fault that 45/47 decided that he would be a most excellent "troll" for those damn libs, preeminent among many such choices.
Back to Bud, we were at City High together for nearly 20 years... he was Dean of Students and coached cross country and track. He coached Lesley in track, and I look forward to hearing some stories from her next time to get together.
Bud was a character but he created a girls cross country program that drew as many as 100 girls to the team, despite only the top 6-7 counting in results of meets. Young women joined just to get in shape and to be part of mammoth pasta dinners put on by parents and generally be part of many state championships.
I thought he was quite elderly in 1963, but it turns out that he was only about 36 at the time. He was from a different generation and from a northwest Missouri farming family, but somehow we became colleagues and friends.
I have no memory of whether he was emotional on that fateful November day, but assume he held it together, whatever he felt. That's what a guy did. Maybe that's still what a guy does.
Anyway, RIP, Bud. He was one-of-a-kind.
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