I've gone dark for a week and for that I apologize. I've been working off of a shared computer, and the desire to blog has seldom been coupled with the ability to. And last night I couldn't find the words. There are other things that I'm going to write about, but this comes first.
One of the greatest educators who ever taught me passed away yesterday morning. It was under his tutelage that I learned a great deal of what I know about theater. He was the director for the Dramatics Society at my high school, and the teacher of the nine-member (of which I was one) class that ran the society along with him and Chip, the other great mentor of mine who I've made note of in this space.
I hadn't seen him since I left high school. Circumstances didn't favor it. He'd retired by the time I got to visit, due to the medical problems that undoubtedly led to his death. And though he did attain some stability of health, he'd disappeared. The closest thing to contact I had with him was when Chip told him about my performance in the last play I acted in.
I myself am not qualified to relate what exactly has been lost in the passing of Kevin Kynock. We referred to him as TGO, short for The Great One. I never was sure as to whether or not he knew of the epithet, but behind his back it was used universally. I would lean towards no. Of all people I've met he was the least egotistical. Such that he used one of my ideas for the ending of the first play he cast me in. For forty years he built a legacy of theater education that I doubt will ever be equaled. His knowledge of theater, particularly Shakespearian (he once worked with the Royal Shakespeare Company) was astounding, and he shared it well. Any attempt to estimate the number of students who learned under him on my part could not be reliable, but he was running the theater there when my father was a student at BC High.
We all knew that this wasn't too far off, but none of us were ready for it.
I know I wasn't
Death no matter how long the sickness was or how much we think we are prepared for it, is something none of us are ready for
ReplyDeleteI could say all the usual cliches but you know them
I'm very sorry
I'm sorry about your friend and mentor Wombat.
ReplyDeletepia: Thanks. For my money there isn't much comfort in the thought that he's sitting on a cloud, having a beer with Shakespeare.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Cooper.
i'm sorry honey
ReplyDeleteI'm told that, in every life worth living, there was one who made a critical difference at a critical time. Thanks for introducing us. Condolences to you, to the family, and those who miss him.
ReplyDeleteRemember the good times, and everything you've learned
Take them with you
And leave the shit behind.
What Pia said.
ReplyDeleteyou know how lucky you are to brush up against someone like this, right?
wow...the ameoba..I don't know who you are or if you knew Kevin Kynock.
ReplyDeleteBut, I was a student of his during his last year at BC High. And his words to me and my friends who were leaving our beloved theatre department to a man who has most assuredly demolished everything I cherished. Mr. Kynock's words were the exact ones you used.
I will truly miss TGO, as everyone who worked under him, I only hope to meet him again someday in the Great Beyond.
The guy was a flaming homo. No one at BC High could stand him except the theater geeks. Let's hope he drops a few pounds in the afterlife.
ReplyDelete