Cliff Bryan

​   ​First, an honest confession.  I was interviewing for other jobs in 1994 because I wanted LSU to compete with an offer to keep me there. I had my dream job at LSU School of Veterinary Medicine, which was Coordinator of Counseling Services, but it was part-time at only 20 hours per week.  We had hired an assistant for me, Stephanie Walker Johnson (who took over in my capacity and is still there), because I lived 73 miles away, so how could I cover full-time?  When my divorce necessitated that LSU bring me on full-time and at a good salary so that I could move closer,  I interviewed with several opportunities in pretty places to help me negotiate.  I found the position of Assistant Professor at Idaho State University and applied.  Lo and behold, they asked if I would interview.  I was not one of so many who had dreamt of teaching as a profession.  I taught at LSU, but that I considered different…within my passion, and worth transcending my shyness.  I knew I only had a Masters degree, so that of course put me out of consideration too.  Sure I had published as much or more as many Ph.D. candidates, but I thought, really thought, I was just going to have a conversation and meet people.

      It was February, and I had never been to the Northwest.  I rented a 4 wheel drive, and I did that without knowledge of the place; I thank God or guardians or guides.  I parked fine, but slipped and slid in the parking lot on my way to meet with the faculty.  It was very casual, and when I think back, I know they never thought they would hire me, or that I would accept and be part of their lives for a long time.  All of us were going through the motions.  I remember lunch, where I wasn’t questioned much at all, and they all mostly conversed passionately with each other. This would be a draw for me.  I will always remember being intrigued by Henry Durham who engendered a discussion about suicide as a violent act.  Then there were a few more questions in the main office of Sociology and Social Work, not behind closed doors but right behind the receptionist in the main office.  I remind you that I never expected to be a serious candidate, so all of this was alright with me. 
     
      Enter CLIFF, in a tie-dyed T-shirt, unkempt long hair, and quite frankly looking like he was without a shower in his home. He certainly didn’t fit my ill-conceived image of a faculty member.  I assumed he might be the department mascot or helper.  Lol.   He was either getting coffee or copies from the Xerox, I don’t remember, because coffee was next to the copier.  I was quite piqued in my southern innocence when all faculty greeted him with such respect and friendliness.  But remember, I’m a N’Awlins girl, and this pleased me.  Yeah, even social workers have stereotypes (former students should remember my teachings i.e. redneck vs cowboy) . They introduced him to me, and he turned around and grinned his shy but welcoming grin, and then he disappeared.  It took me some seconds to integrate the parts of my mind.  This is and will be my first memory of Cliff Bryan who would become so important to me.  And I value this memory, because Cliff has dedicated his life to just that…getting people to integrate those parts of their minds and align them with their hearts.

      Cliff and I have had few of the meaningful, sociologically relevant, and profound conversations that so many are describing on Facebook.  I envy those that had the conversations.  Cliff and I were connected through mutual best friends and many students.  There are too many to name but you know who you are.  Some of his besties were mine as well, and now that I think back, our approaches to them were similar when they needed a friend.  Yet, Cliff got to do the fun stuff (i.e. say irreverent things, quip and change their lives, or get ‘em drunk or something akin to that).  I want to say here and now that any friendship with any of that circle was fun for me too, even if I didn’t get included in some of the debauchery.  And I say that because they, these many of the circle, were all so incredibly fascinating, heart in front, and some were geniuses; most had no idea of their worth to me and to Cliff.  I knew this: if Cliff valued a person, then I needed to pay attention to that person.  I also look back to see that so many of Cliff’s closest friends were social workers, and it is because he has always loved the human in all of us and valued non-judgement.  He personified that throughout my relationship with him more than most social workers.

      So by now I hope you assume that I was hired at ISU.  I was, and I accepted, and I spent 14 years with the wonderful faculty and students there.  It was a best time of my life.  And Cliff is in a majority of happy memories.  I laughed more there than I ever had in my whole life, partly because of Cliff, and I laugh less since I left.  So much happened between 2005 and 2008.  And not just for me.  Henry got sick, Hurricane Katrina necessitated my help, and I had several other deaths/losses.  Henry’s illness was something for all of us.  Again, Cliff and I never sat down and talked about Henry’s illness, impending death, all the particulars.  But somehow we just supported one another through that.  And it connects us today, without words. 

      I am realizing as I write that THAT is what I will miss most about Cliff.  I know and he knows without words.  I know he knows me without words, and I know him without words.  I guess for professors that’s pretty rare.  For friends, it makes us pretty profound friends.
When I have returned to Pocatello, Cliff has made an effort to see me every time.  I have met Reta, and I am so grateful to her, to him for being open to that relationship, for the knowledge that he has been loved these past years. That she is the person he needed speaks all to me, because Reta is real.  

​     I don’t know all the reasons my tears keep coming for Cliff.  I understand it will be a well-deserved exit, and an exit he has thought about a lot and for many years.  I think a lot of my tears are of gratitude.  None are regret, because he and I just understand.  I know I will miss him in this world for sure.  In July, I sent him a follow up to a text message conversation, in which he was pissed because he was already ready to go.  In it was  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEWSOPUfYF0.  He sent me a big “like,” but just for you who won’t listen to it, here is part of the last verse: 

Here where the angels
Have appeared and are gone
Your face like an ember
Glows in the dawn
​But I want you to remember
All wild deeds live on
All good times, all good friends

All good things got to come to an end
The thrills have to fade
Before they come 'round again
The bills will be paid
And the pleasure will mend
All good things got to come to an end

All good times, all good friends
All good things got to come to an end
 
        Yes.  It was good Cliff.  All good, sometimes hard, but all good.  I hope you’ll be able to see me when I come, and I thank you so much for even trying. I will miss you when you go, and there is no hurry for me or for all who love you.  I hope you’ll visit in spirit if you can, and that you get together on the other side with so many you’ve lost.  If none of that exists, I want you to know you are in me and my heart forever and for good.  I love you very much, Sandy