June 24, 2009

Orgy of weeding early in the evening cleared a patch I despaired of being ever cleared. Green dragon, hen-and-chicks, violas, other gems revealed beneath the verdure. Tomatoes and squash free of encroachment.

Jeff Rackham died this morning at 4 AM. June is a bad month for fathers. The particulars are presently unknown, but must involve the advancing dementia that took him away from friends and family in the last six years. Jeff’s voice was the first from Asheville that I ever heard, phoning me in Hiram to ask me to interview for this job. He threw his weight behind my selection, and fostered me through the maze of my early years, easing me into early tenure and promotion. His faith in my talent and abilities was greater than my own. I ate Thanksgiving supper at his house the first year in Asheville. When I ran afoul of malevolent local powers, he defended me when I was too dazed to defend myself, and is almost certainly the reason that I kept my career. He was a presence of compassion and efficiency and vision (things which do not always go together) at the university. He was one of those people you do not ever expect will die, and yet he has. There is no repaying him for his diligence and kindness. One must simply find a way to pass it on.