Carpe Diem (In Memoriam)

On the first day of my sophomore year in high school, I entered a classroom that would ultimately prove to be life-changing for me.

The class was a three year gifted program called "English Enrichment" and the teacher was a young woman named Nan Willis.

Miss Willis explained to the 20 or so of us in the room that we had been selected for this special three year program via testing and recommendations from other teachers. Instead of attending "standard" English literature classes, from now until graduation, we were "stuck" with her.

I was stunned. I looked around the room at some of the best and brightest my school had to offer and was convinced I had been placed there by mistake -- in fact, after class I even approached Miss Willis to tell her so.

With a smile and a gentle arm around my shoulders, Miss Willis explained that I did, in fact, belong in the class, and that she "could already tell" that I would be one of her favorite students.

Simply put - I loved the class. And I grew to love Miss Willis.

The class was challenging -- we did more than just read great literature, we discussed it, wrote about it, picked it apart and put it back together again. Every opinion mattered. I'm sure this is where I first developed the critical thinking skills that have served me so well.

But it was more than just a class.

Miss Willis saw something in the geeky blonde girl who didn't have a lot of friends, the girl who loved music above almost all else, the girl who never quite felt like she 'belonged.'

She encouraged me to begin writing for the school paper. When I didn't get a part in the school play, she personally invited me to be part of her public relations team. She made phone calls and helped me get my first job at Hersheypark. She talked with me for hours about my college choices and wrote many letters of recommendation -- all of which I still have.

Senior year we sold carnations for St. Valentine's Day -- to raise money for a class trip to NYC. Miss Willis somehow knew, or guessed that I wouldn't be receiving one -- and sent me one herself -- with a personal note that I cherish to this day.

For three years, she was a huge part of my life. So much of the person I am today can be traced back to lessons learned in and out of her classroom.

Every kid should feel so special.

I stayed in broad touch with her over the years -- the odd card or letter -- and shortly after getting married in 1993 ran into her in a Chinese restaurant. I was delighted to see her and introduce her to my new husband. She introduced me to HER new husband as well -- and said "This is Laura -- one of my very favorite students!"

I glowed with pleasure the rest of the day.

Yesterday, I found out that Miss Willis passed away unexpectedly, at the age of 57.

I don't know the details and don't need to know. I just know I felt an overwhelming sense of loss -- for a person who probably touched more lives than I can even imagine. Who probably never made a lot of money or garnered much of we would materialistically consider "success."

On that first day of class, all those years ago, before we started reading The Canterbury Tales, Miss Willis explained to us what an "epic" was -- "a long narrative tale, told in an elevated style, that celebrated the accomplishments of a hero."

Miss Willis was my hero.