In Memory of Dan MacGilvray

September 13 is the birthday of one of my favorite professors, Dan MacGilvray.

Dan's specialty in the classroom was History of Design Technology. I took the class as an undergraduate, and served as his graduate teaching assistant for two years.

Dan and I shared an interest in and a love for architectural history and preservation. He took me under his wing, and guided me in my research efforts. He presented one of my works at a national symposium.

Dan had a quick and dry wit. He was fair and principled. He taught because he loved the subject. His enthusiasm was contagious.

He was one of the most important, of a hand full professors at Texas A&M, that really moulded me into who I am today.

He believed in me, and because of that, I learned to believe in myself. He was eloquent in his praise, but he was quick to follow with the comment, "Don't get a big head". I keep a post-it note with that phrase, written by him, just inches from where I sit right now. And it makes me feel close to him.

Dan passed away a few years ago, of a rather sudden and critical illness... pancreatic cancer.

Dan was many things to me. He was a little of a father figure in the way he guided and promoted me and just generally looked out after my best interests. He was a tremendous mentor, who took the time to encourage and challenge me, push me past my self doubting limitations, and then prove to me that I could far exceed the grandiose expectations that he had helped to define. He believed that I had what it took to accomplish everything... and more... that he had, which I found, unfathomable.

He did those things so well and nurtured my ego so much... that we eventually butted heads. And I am amazed, to this day, at his reaction. He did not put me in my rightful place, as mere student to the tenured professor. No. He acknowledged my defense and withdrew his stance.

As the days passed, having received my Masters Degree and left Texas A&M, Dan and I became friends, based on equal amounts of shared experience, love of subject and academia and personal respect.

He always called me when he was coming to Houston. The last time he called, we made tentative plans to meet for lunch. But he didn't call me that day. I assumed that his plans had changed. And indeed, they had.

A week or two after our planned lunch, another professor called to tell me that Dan had died. It happened so quickly, that he never had the opportunity to tell me that he was ill.

On shakey ground in most every aspect of my life when I walked into his class the first time, Dan eventually recognized, stabilized and then elevated me. I was noone special... just some kid in his class. If anthing set our relationship apart, it was my enthusiasm for the subject matter, as well as my desire and persistance to excell, because Dan was always Dan. He made himself available to all who were interested and always gave in equal measure to what was sought from him. (More later... on the term project that linked us).

I count Dan's death as a personal loss, and I will never forget him. And I find, as time passes... bittersweet joy in my memories. I am a different person for having known him... and I have no doubt that I would be in a different place, if he was still here to encourage and challenge me.