Last Friday I ran into my two favorite college professors. Accidentally. Twenty-six years after graduation. On their last day of teaching. Just as they were retiring.
My wife and I were back at the University of Wisconsin--River Falls for the second or third time since we graduated, touring the campus with our youngest daughter. On the last day of the semester we expected empty halls in the English department. But we stumbled on two treasured professors. Dr. Larry Harred was my boss in the campus writing lab. For two years Larry coached me as I worked with struggling writers. I can't imagine how many papers were rescued or even how many students stayed in school because of his lab. I had Dr. Jane Harred for a full year of freshman composition, a class I didn’t think I needed. Jane pushed me to express myself clearly and schooled me in the art of sentence combining. My experience in her class convinced me to major in English, and without that redirection, I wouldn't be writing now.
I appreciate many other professors at UWRF: Dr. Connie TerMaat, who allowed me to take a 400-level linguistics class as a freshman; Dr. Nicholas Karolides, who treated me kindly even when I dropped my teaching degree; Lois Michaelson, who wisely advised me throughout my major; Dr. Margaret Odegard, the English department chair who pushed me forward when I wondered if my writing was any good and literally unlocked a door to using computers to write; and journalism professors Neal Gendler and George Crist, who heckled this English major word-by-word until I could write tight and to the point.
But the Harreds? They were the best. Of all the professors I ever had anywhere. I appreciate them not only as teachers but as human beings. I could not be more honored to have been their student or to have shared fresh moments with them.
