Today, the world is losing one of the greatest men I have
ever known. The keys look blurry through my tear-filled eyes as I write this
tribute, but there is no other way I can think to honor my mentor and esteemed
professor, Dr. Darryl Gless.
Dr. Gless came from a small town in Nebraska, and was the
first in his family to go to college. He ended up winning the Rhodes
Scholarship and was in the same class with Bill Clinton. He attained his masters at Oxford and his
Ph.D. at Princeton. He wrote books and
essays and won many awards. He’s a
respected scholar on the works of Spencer and Shakespeare – but it was his place in
the classroom that won so many hearts and minds.
It was my first semester of senior year at UNC-Chapel Hill
when I met Professor Gless. The class
was “Shakespeare” and Gless had a reputation for being a difficult teacher. But
from my first class, I knew he would be one of the biggest influences on my
college life. As it turns out, he was
also one of the biggest influences on my adult life.
Darryl (as he has been encouraging me to call him for the
past several years) opened up the word of Shakespeare like the unveiling of
Russian nesting dolls.
Each layer was
pulled back to reveal something even more intricate and astounding waiting to
be discovered within.
I didn’t just
learn Shakespeare – I learned how to decipher hidden meaning, I learned about
the history and politics of 16
th century Europe, and where the
foundation for our current language originated.
I was challenged to see the myriad ways that
Shakespeare’s writing influenced not just literature to come, but culture, art and
politics.
It made me realize the
outstanding mark that simple written words can have on the world – not just for
a lifetime, but multiple lifetimes.
It’s hard to explain exactly how it happened, but Darryl
broadened my horizons and, simultaneously, my desires for my own existence. It was at his prompting that I applied for an
honors study abroad program in London, and jumped through many obstacles to get
there. When I decided to apply for a
scholarship that would allow me to spend three additional months traveling
around Europe and learning about history and culture, he was my biggest
cheerleader – writing me recommendations and expressing total confidence in my
achievement.
I was accepted into the London Honors Program, and awarded
the travel scholarship. While I was
gone, I kept a regular blog. Despite
grading papers and writing books of his own, not to mention the endless reading
that an English professor is always obliged to do, Darryl kept up with my
blog. Upon my return, he mentioned
several things he’d read from my trip, laughing with me over the funny
incidents, and talking seriously about those more disturbing moments.
Every few months, I went back to visit my old stomping
grounds, and Darryl and I would sit together in his garden and talk about
everything: life, literature, travel, jobs, friends, family and the future. I loved our talks. He was far and away the smartest person I have
ever had the privilege of speaking to – much less calling a friend – yet he
never made me (or any other student) feel less-than. He was humble and kind, witty and
fascinating.
It is no wonder that he earned a Tanner Award for Excellence
in Undergraduate Teaching. (Of course, I
only know this from reading about it online – he would never have bragged about
such a thing). When asked about the
award, he apparently said, “That award intensified my already deep commitment
to enabling all my students to think imaginatively, to question, to value ideas
and language, and to speak and write well.”
I am confident that Darryl needed no award to be the mentor
and teacher that he was to hundreds of students over three decades at
Carolina. He made every student feel
worthwhile, understood and appreciated for who they were. Personally, he encouraged me to step outside
the girl that everyone assumed I’d become, and look deeper.
If I hadn’t happened to be assigned to his class, I never would
have gone on that study abroad trip. I
may not have won the travel scholarship, and I certainly would not be where I
am today. Most sadly, I would not have
had the opportunity to get to know such a brilliant mind, and kind-hearted
person.
Over the last year and a half, Darryl has battled myelodysplastic
syndrome – a disease that renders the bone marrow incompetent. This disease caused him to need continual platelet and red cell transfusions, but the doctors said there was only one
way to possibly be cured – a bone marrow transplant. Darryl didn’t want to undergo such a risky
surgery, but his sweet wife, Frieda (who is only in her 30s), asked him to
consider it for the sake of their unborn child.
Frieda is the head of the honors study abroad programs at
Carolina, and, consequently, I got to know her during my London trip. Like Darryl, she is very kind, very smart and
incredibly positive. They got married
shortly before Darryl was diagnosed with this terrible disease, and both
remained ever-positive despite setback after setback.
Given Darryl’s exercise regime and strong support system,
the doctors believed he may be able to pull through a bone marrow transplant. Either
way, Frieda and Darryl decided they would try to have a baby. It would be a first for both of them. Frieda is now 7.5 months pregnant with their
daughter, Elena (Leni) Stefanie Gless.
A perfect match was found for Darryl’s bone marrow
transplant, and the outlook was good at first.
However, after a couple weeks, the doctors realized the marrow did not
take. In preparation for a second
infusion, Darryl contracted an infection.
The doctors worked tirelessly to get it under control, but as of last
night, Darryl was going into full lung and kidney failure. Frieda, who is keeping all his loved ones
updated via CaringBridge, let us know that life support was removed, and they
were keeping him comfortable with morphine.
He is expected to pass away today. Frieda is with him, holding his hand and
talking to him about all the good times they had together.
As devastated as I am at this loss, I cannot imagine the
grief and pain that she is experiencing right now. My heart breaks for her and for all the
hundreds of people who will be grieved by this loss. I also mourn those students who will never
have the opportunity to learn from this great teacher.
Goodbye, Professor Gless.
You will be greatly missed, and never forgotten.
