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Greenlee Awards Reception 2009

Greenlee Awards Reception recognizes Greenlee scholarship winners, the high achievement and legacies of Greenlee alumni and donors, and the hardworking faculty and advisers of the Greenlee School.

A transcript of Greenlee School Director Michael Bugeja's speech honoring the attendees is included in the follow section.

More Heart and Less Wit: The Untold Story of Scholarships

Delivered by Michael Bugeja, Sept. 27, 2009, at the Iowa State Alumni Center

Have you ever noticed the unspoken habits of award ceremonies? Senior faculty members attending today probably have organized or sat through a few dozen of them throughout our careers.

Here are a few:

• No matter how often the emcee tells us not to applaud until all winners in a category are announced, someone will clap before then anyway.
• During the week we see students in jeans, pajamas, t-shirts and flip-flops. We marvel at how professional they look in Sunday best, walking to the stage or standing to be acknowledged.
• At that moment, many of the parents and teachers will realize that their wardrobes are as old as the students getting awards, the first sign of midlife crisis.
• There are always famous quotations. I just cited one by Bill Tammeus of the Kansas City Star.

Now let’s violate convention and speak more from the heart than the wit. Because a lot of heart went into the awards you will hear about this afternoon.

Students, it’s hard to have heart and senioritis. You’re forgiven. One day, though, you’ll remember your teachers and perhaps even honor them with a scholarship.

I know that sounds far-fetched at this moment, but as you succeed—and succeed you will, accumulating more recognition—you will reflect on how a professor played a key role in your life or career, and pledge a gift in her or his honor.

We have so many incredible teachers at the Greenlee School—Master Teachers like Barbara Mack and Lulu Rodriguez … or creative geniuses like Joel Geske and Dennis Chamberlin … passionate ones like David Bulla and Tom Beell … conscientious ones like Marcia Prior-Miller and Diane Bugeja … scholar-teachers like Eric Abbott and Jeff Blevins … innovative ones like Jay Newell and Chad Harms … worldly ones like Daniela Dimitrova and Suman Lee … and just all-around wonderful, dedicated educators like Deb Gibson, Jacob Groshek, Michael Dahlstrom, John Thomas, Erin Wilgenbusch, Lauren Monahan and Beth Haag.

And then there are devoted advisers like Jane Peterson, Kim McDonough and Kalpana Ramgopal.

I have left out names of staff, adjuncts and newer faculty who support teaching excellence or who excel already in the classroom or desire to, and that excellence and desire are infectious and have been for generations in the Greenlee School.

Often, scholarships are tributes by students to teachers who change lives. Let me tell you a little about some former teachers whose names are living legacies in Hamilton Hall.

• Rod Fox was a gentle, compassionate man who taught media history for 44 years, interrupted only by a stint in Army during World War II. Those who knew him were surprised to learn that someone so gentle could capture German soldiers, but he did. He also captured rare books, especially Thoreau’s Walden Pond, and inspired generations of learners who donate to this day in his memory.
• Ed Blinn spoke with a New England accent and was a dynamic teacher. He loved law as much as Barbara Mack and, like Barbara, encouraged dozens of students to become attorneys. Also like Barbara, he loved the Iowa State Daily. Barbara is on the publication board. Ed was the Daily’s legal adviser for many years.
• Jake Hvistendahl did much for our master’s program. He’d reply to letters of interest with long, personal messages and ended up recruiting some of our most talented graduate students before other schools had a chance at them. He had a tremendous work ethic, too, and like Eric Abbott and Lulu Rodriguez, chaired dozens of thesis committees.
• Jack Engel had a thriving advertising agency in Ohio, and gave a talk in an advertising class at ISU. Long-time Journalism Chair Jim Schwartz heard the presentation and offered him a job. As daughter Allison Engel recalls, "Dad was tickled with the idea of teaching college, so he sold his long-standing and thriving ad agency in Cleveland, moved to Iowa (which he and Mom adored, as we all do) and started at Iowa State, where he promptly began writing an advertising textbook that was published by McGraw-Hill to great success." Allison and sister Margaret achieved great success in the media. The scholarship in Jack‚s name is a tribute to lifelong learning.
• Richard Disney, a dapper-looking gent, reminiscent of Walt Disney—a rumored second cousin—loved the written word. He taught feature writing for several years, enjoying one-on-one interaction with students and encouraging them to read, write and publish. They have, and they donate in his name.
• And of course there was Jack Shelley, a World War II combat reporter with a phenomenal reputation as a radio and television newsman. He enjoyed a long career with WHO in Des Moines and was on the USS Battleship Missouri when Japan surrendered in 1945. Jack, now 97, is a member of our Advisory Council.

I could go on, bringing to life each of these remarkable teachers, past or present, and apologize if I omitted a few.

I promised to speak from the heart.

Sometimes teachers create memorials for students who are not as lucky as you in this room. They had all of your talents with futures as bright … but never lived to fulfill them.

I had such students, an unlucky 13 over 30 years, who passed away from accident or illness before they were graduated. At this moment professors in the room are thinking of their own students and advisees who also are no longer with us.

One of my students, in particular, stands out, and I hope to create a scholarship in her honor.

Her name was Heidi Ann Miller, a student and advisee of mine at Oklahoma State University, where I began my academic career after leaving daily journalism with United Press International. I’m hoping for assistance from Garth Brooks, the country musician, who for a time was her boyfriend and also my student.

To me, Heidi Miller will always be the student who never got to fulfill her dream of working as a publicist in the music business. She loved music. Perhaps that is why she loved Garth before millions of fans discovered him years later.

Why do some students mean more to teachers than others? Usually because they ended up teaching the teachers something they needed to know, and Heidi taught me to focus less on journalism and more on my mandolin.

Then, on one fateful day, everything came together—music, journalism, UPI, Heidi, Garth, and me—and imploded.

Heidi had 11 days to go before graduation. The last time I saw her, she was in the second-floor newswriting lab being taught by my former editor at UPI, Don Reed, our professional in residence. Heidi sensed me in the hallway and turned my way, smiling widely and flashing her eyes to the podium, as if I could read her mind, which I did that day, about wanting out of there for a weekend of country western.

Garth Brooks was an unknown at the time, planning, as I recall, to remain in Stillwater after graduation as a graduate student in advertising. Heidi had her own plans to promote music, maybe in Nashville.

I returned Heidi’s knowing smile and left the journalism building for home. Heidi met her boyfriend to hitch a ride to the Tulsa area. During the journey, a drunk driver swerved into their lane with the lights off, killing Heidi instantly. Sometime after midnight Heidi’s roommate called me with the news that Heidi had died in the accident.

I don’t know how Garth took the news. All I know is that Heidi inspired his first, hit song, “If Tomorrow Never Comes,” dedicated to her. The lyrics that propelled him to fame speak about the power of words—telling people how you feel about them, while you can—because sometimes, for some folks, tomorrow never comes.

Tomorrow never came for Heidi, and that is why I want to establish a scholarship in her name, so that students can live the dream she never experienced when all our plans for the future ended on a rainy night in 1985 outside of Jenks, Oklahoma, a Tulsa suburb.

April 29th next year will mark the 25th anniversary of her passing.

Some of you have the word “memorial” attached to your award. If so, chances are donors cared so much about the person for whom your scholarship is named that, like me, they wanted to give to you something that their loved ones lacked—the gift of time.

So take the time today to thank your donor. Thank your parents, grandparents and family. Thank your teachers, advisers and staff of the Greenlee School for all they have given you. Then pledge to make a difference in a world on their behalf.

Give generously of your time and talents, and everything will fall into place.

That place is Iowa State University of Science and Technology, your alma mater. Thank You.

2009-09-28

Updated: Previous version incorrectly stated Richard Disney teaching Literary Journalism. Richard Disney taught Feature Writing.