In this fourth—and, what was to have been, final!—post on this topic, I’ll apologize for having slipped into my “eternal” editing that should shorten but, given my complete absence of the gift of brevity, it just became longer. I can only hope it had the intended result of enriching, not muddying, my sincere care for these friends that I cherish! So, I turn now to two of the final four of the friendships I have chosen to honor—one who lives nearby, and one who now lives a day’s drive away but with whom I am in touch on a regular basis. I have been close friends with these two for 50 to 55 years and we have been supportively present for each other, sometimes along with our wives, on many occasions. The last two—but not least!—I will address in the truly final post.

I’ll start with the only one who lives physically near me, allowing us to be together on a regular basis. We met when he joined the faculty in 1973 at Mars Hill College where I had begun my teaching career five years earlier.  Since both of our departments were in the Humanities, we became well acquainted over the several years that followed. In my Department of Religion and Philosophy, I taught primarily philosophy classes, but also some religion and general education courses. His teaching in the Department of History centered primarily on US history—but also the history and culture of China, to which I’ll return momentarily—and he also taught some general education courses. It was our common interest in gen ed, and its crucial place in the larger importance of the liberal arts, that helped transform us from acquaintances to true colleagues! For example, we collaborated on two interdisciplinary courses in the general education curriculum. His course followed mine, so he sat in on my class every day that it met so that he would know what subject matter the students who entered his course had been given and expected to learn; and I sat in on all of his class sessions so that I would know how I could best prepare the students with what they needed as background for his class. We were also exposed to each other’s teaching styles and being able to observe his was one of the most important and enjoyable learning experiences I have ever had!

He also led two trips abroad as part of faculty preparation for teaching in another interdisciplinary gen ed program, one of them to Chiapas, Mexico, for exposure to its ancient Mayan culture and ruins, as well as the city of San Cristobal de las Casas—whose center maintains its Spanish colonial layout and much of its architecture, with red tile roofs, cobblestone streets, and its iconic Cathedral. The other trip was to China, for which he could not have been better prepared. In addition to his full course load, he chose—as self-imposed tasks arising entirely from his personal interest in the history and culture of China—to read a number of books on the subjects, and to take several trips to China on his own. Most of them were lengthy stays, including a whole semester teaching a course at a university in northern China, and, at one point on another trip, he happened to be present in Tiananmen Square in Beijing where he observed the gathering of protesters who were peacefully calling for political and economic reform. Fortunately, he was not there later when a confrontation with the military led to unarmed protesters and onlookers being killed en masse and which became symbolic of similar protests elsewhere in China. Over time, his interest and his expertise in China’s past, as well as its traditions and customs, has clearly grown to enviable levels. As a result, his ability to plan the trip that my wife and I were privileged to enjoy, along with a number of other faculty members involved in the interdisciplinary Gen Ed courses, was beyond question!  We were fortunate to be intimately exposed to China’s culture, its ancient sites—including the Great Wall, of course, and the Terracotta Army—as well the beauty of X’ian, and the historical significance of Beijing.  Both the enjoyment and the learning  that we gained from these trips—and  others with this friend and his wife, especially to France!—in addition to so many other contacts and experiences, have enriched the relationship with this friend that has drawn us closer over these past 50 years.  

With both of us now retired, I take the courses he teaches, on China and American history, on a regular basis through OLLI—the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute, based at UNC-A—where he is, arguably, the most popular teacher among his many talented and informed colleagues! Since I now take the courses on a Zoom connection with a number of other people, it is not uncommon to see him teaching in person—in his, if possible, even more informative, personal, incredibly conversant, and engaging manner than I had observed those decades before—to a seated class of ninety!! And we now have lunch together every Wednesday, with enjoyable and informative conversations about all kinds of “things that matter”—knowing that, if we wish, what is said there, stays there!—as well as sharing simply life and family ”catch-ups.” My wife and I have been able on many occasions over the years to have dinner together with him and his wife. This is a rich and caring friendship that I treasure, and for which I am profoundly grateful.

To begin my second account of a significant friend in my life, at a recent meeting of my Men’s Group, where we were discussing and choosing discussion topics for the next six months, one possible topic was “reflecting on a time in our lives—e.g. where were you in 1968 (or whatever year) and what do you remember about that year? How were you changed by this period?” While it was just an arbitrary choice and any other year could be chosen, I was “gob-smacked” by the random appearance of “1968,” given its key significance in my life. As noted above, it was the year I joined the faculty of Mars Hill College—later University—where I would spend 35 years of my professional life and the year my family and I moved into a duplex apartment across the street from the man—who would become the faculty colleague, the friend—who would literally change my life!

In that first conversation with him on our “move-in” day, I learned that he was chair of the college’s Department of Theatre Arts, and he learned that my undergraduate major had been in speech and theatre. And there began his unrelenting pressure on me to play a role in this-or-that theatre production. For a couple of years I “begged off,” saying, honestly, that I was barely staying two weeks ahead of my students in the classes I was teaching! But when I became comfortable with my instructional grasp of the subject matter in the classroom, I began to accept the roles—usually minor ones—he graciously offered me in various student productions that called for an age-specific male adult. It was then that I began to learn what a variety of gifts and talents my friend possessed. I learned that he didn’t offer me those early minor roles just to be nice. He did it because he felt he could help me “fill” that role or, to say it another way, help me “become” that character.

That was the beginning, but my participation in theatrical productions developed in earnest during the summer of 1975 when my friend became the Founding Artistic Director of the Southern Appalachian Repertory Theatre—now approaching fifty years of summer productions. And that opened new vistas in my amazement that he not only taught both the history and practice of theatre and helped student majors discover and develop their gifts and find the place—whether on stage, in designing and constructing sets, or in lighting, sound, and technical roles—where they were best suited to make significant contributions. He was also perfectly at home in imagining, setting in motion, and managing a completely new professional theatre company! He did all of that and, to my great surprise, offered me a lead role in the very first SART production. As El Gallo in The Fantasticks, I spoke the first words and sang the first song—“Try to Remember,”—on the opening night of this new professional theatre company. Beginning with that production and in many others, I learned about his crucially important ability for finding and recognizing talented actors (present speaker excluded), actresses, and  technical staff who were versatile, could fill or support the roles needed for the season, and would fit well with the company.

I also experienced many times his skills as a director. Many of his guiding principles stayed with me, from his encouragement and assistance to help me “become” the character I brought to the stage, to his simple but profound instruction “never to move on stage until you know why you move and where you are going.” And those are just two examples of his numerous directing talents that led me to say to him many times that “you got out of me more than I knew was in me.” For summer after summer, he continued to gift me with lead roles in well-known theatrical productions, such as To Kill a Mockingbird, All the King’s Men, Tuesdays with Morrie, and musical productions—e.g. The Sound of Music, Camelot, Fiddler on the Roof, and a “dinner theatre” group we called Bits&Pieces. This became, literally, a second-vocational, mostly summer, career in which, during the next thirty years—mostly at SART, but also at other theatres—I did lead roles in over thirty productions. Absolutely none of that could have happened without the persistence of my friend!

Another completely unexpected benefit resulted from our first production of Fiddler on the Roof during the summer of 1981. The incredible young woman who played the role of Golde, was employed by a company that recorded commercials and other voice-overs for radio, TV, and other venues. Her colleagues came to see her in one of our performances and a short time later contacted me to ask if I would be interested in auditioning. I did so and thus began another part-time career of recording voice-overs for over thirty years and, from time to time, to this day. Neither of these opportunities could ever have happened had it not been for my relationship with the friend I am celebrating here. It is important, as well, to be reminded that the summer of 1981 was also the time that I separated from my wife and my children after 22 years in an often troubled marriage—the most excruciating decision I’ve ever made. My friend, who had also experienced separation from his wife, was not only strongly and empathetically supportive,he also provided lodging for me in a housing facility on campus reserved for members of the SART company, until I found my own place in the small garage apartment near campus. I don’t think I could ever have made it without his help!

The other crucially important thing that summer was meeting the amazingly talented woman who was the Musical Director and accompanist for Fiddler. As we worked closely together in rehearsals and performances of that richly historic and popular musical, and a number of others in future SART productions, our acquaintance over several years became a friendship that developed into a loving relationship and she eventually became my wife. I doubt if that ever could have happened had my friend not brought us together that summer! The truth of what I said at the very beginning of this tribute to my dear friend should now be absolutely clear—in so many generous and creative ways, he did, literally, change my life in good ways I will never regret! I could not be more deeply grateful for all that he made happen, but before I bring these remarks and remembrances about my dear friend of 55 years to a close, this needs to be said: the core values of my relationship with him—the camaraderie, all that I learned from him through theatre, the mutual support, the conversations about “things that matter”—even when we haven’t always agreed—have been a key part of who I am and who I can be. He is, has been, and always will be my treasured and cherished friend!

The fifth and final post about two other crucially important and valued friendships in my life will be “up” soon. I hope you will stay tuned and read to learn why they are cherished!