|
Acknowledgements |
Patricia Burchfield. My mother taught me to read, and tried to teach me mathematics. One out of two, Mom. Jim Moody. Junior high school is pretty much hell for everybody. He showed us that the world is a much larger place than it seemed. Renate Wood. Everything that a 9th grade Composition teacher should be -- highly alert, deeply discerning, and very difficult to please. Bette Waller. Woke me up to the idea that history, like all narrative, is a study in ethical imperatives. Lois Jean Delaney. The backbone of the Murphy High School drama department. Not just a teacher, but an institution. Bill Clarkson. He always could tell -- and still can -- when I'm cutting corners in my writing. From Frost to Orwell and Hemingway, he showed me what lies beneath the tip of the iceberg. Bill Bonds. I don't remember nearly enough of the Latin I learned in his class. But what Latin taught me about the English language, I shall never forget. Douglas Paschall. A great-hearted man with a fierce and daunting intellect. He had a gift for showing us how much we had to learn without making us feel insignificant. Dale Richardson. Taught me Shakespeare and mentored my senior thesis. One of the all-time great conversationalists. Also has the most memorable laugh of any professor I've ever met, and that is saying something. Pete Smith. Not just a theatre professor but a coach, who made sure I knew how to do every job on the list, from actor to lighting designer to box office manager. Never accepted less than my best. Arthur Giron. A true gentleman of the old school, who showed us that writers must always stick together.
|
|||