Showing posts with label Carmen Tafolla. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carmen Tafolla. Show all posts

Saturday, June 1, 2019

You Can Go Home Again—50 Years Later, Keystone’s Class of ’69 is Thriving and Doing Fine!

How many of you attended your 10th high school reunion? How about your 25th? How about your 50th? Well, I haven’t been able to celebrate my 50th yet, but thanks to a very generous group from Keystone School’s Class of ’69, three of us (2 of us Class of ’68 and 1 from ’74) were offered guest passes into the wonderful world of some of the school’s most accomplished and most gracious graduates I can remember. And, I remember over 300 of you.

Keystone was founded in San Antonio in 1948 by two gentlemen, William B. Greet and John H. Eargle, Jr., originally as a program for students in grades 1–8, to strengthen and improve skills of those behind in learning—reading and comprehension, the school’s earliest academic focus. More on the beginnings from another of my projects coming in the near future, but suffice it to say that adding on a high school transformed Keystone into a competitive college-prep training ground.

Below: Class of '69 reunion organizers, Velma Nanka-Bruce, Carmen Tafolla, and Ciro Ramirez

Located in San Antonio, Texas, Keystone is a private K-12 nondenominational college-prep school and, in year 71 of its existence, continues to be well respected across the country. Many of San Antonio’s most well-adjusted scholars have flown through the hallways and down the iron steps into careers that have made them very happy. Make no mistake: it’s not a nerd school nor a site in the middle of the Monte Vista Historical District where brainiacs abound. Not one of the students even slightly resembled the characters portrayed in “The Big Bang Theory.”

I never knew that other folks in town might consider us a bit nerdy. We didn’t even know the word “nerd” back then. After all, when virtually everyone belongs to the Future Scientists of America, it is easy to assume that the place was filled with rocket scientists. Yes, we did have a few of those—actual rocket scientists, I mean—photographs on a delightful Class of ’69 slide show emphasized that very fact, but most of us weren’t. We were just interested in a lot of different things, all at the same time. Although one class member was teased as having an “epic fail” with his rocket, he turned out just fine in life, with a flourishing medical practice.

Right: Ciro Ramirez and George Farinacci.

Speaking of doctors, the private party room at the restaurant where the 50th anniversary took place was filled with those holding academic and medical doctorates (including dentistry), career educators, beloved parents who worked hard inside the home, nationally respected authors, ministers, church musicians, blues harmonica players, Nashville music insider for a major recording label, civil and nuclear engineers, patent holders, those who served in the military and those who protested injustice, those who wore POW/MIA bracelets and those who served in the Peace Corps. [Left: Judy Fitzgerald Tolbert and Carmen Tafolla.]

You know what was most impressive? It was the “other things” they had done outside their primary career work that blew me away. Starting and funding a nonprofit music organization to make sure students have access to music; spending time coordinating music for churches and special events, one who was able to play one of the most challenging complex church organs at age 16 and still plays on Sundays today (that’s the spare-time gig) after having been a world leader in AIDS research from the beginning. The hours that these grads have spent encouraging other young people to reach their dreams, mentoring and allowing others to shadow them to try on careers is spectacular.

Sharing their knowledge humbly and willingly—now THAT is the Keystone I remember. If you didn’t know them from high school, or know what they’d done in their careers so far, you couldn’t pick them out of any crowd. That was because they were relaxed and happy, many who were accompanied by their spouses who enjoyed watching “old home week,” and it seemed like just another lunch hour with family friends. In fact, it was just that, except for some in the room, it had been 50 years since they’d all seen each other. And, as everyone hugged each other “hello,” it was so easy to see that everyone in the room felt about 18 again. It was like time had been suspended for 50 years. [Left: Danny Downum and M/M George Farinacci.]

Most were world travelers at some points in their lives, having never said “no” to adventure, whether for work or for pleasure. The list of achievements overflowed today—in the Class of ’69 party room. And everyone was exactly equal with everyone else because they are all family. It’s just another Walton Family reunion, minus John-boy. That’s impressive. Respect, love, good-natured laughter, and warm memories served to undergird the appreciation for all who came together from across the country or state to share important time together.

[Right: Mary Newell Pape, Patrice Hensley, Carmen Tafolla.]

One of the most important things about Keystone graduates is that all are considered equal successes just because they survived Keystone. Oh, it wasn’t like Marine basic training school rigid, but the number of books you carried home with you each night for homework could be considered “hazardous” to balance.

Funny reminiscences were shared from “back in the day,” as when Russian-born language teacher Sergei M. Apostolov attended a basketball game and said (in full accent), “I am a great athletic supporter,” which he was. The photo of “Roscoe” brought a laugh—he was the human skeleton head on history teacher Maj. Philip E. Babel’s desk, under which all students were to place their homework and/or tests when completed. The label on Roscoe’s head read: “I flunked history.” We tried not to.

Then there was when English teacher Jim Klaeveman said, “Class dismissed” that brought gales of laughter. Best photo of the set was a science teacher I’ll just refer to as Mr. O, who had drawn the ire of some female students early on in his teaching there because of some rather antiquated views of women’s abilities. He made the mistake of stating those views in his outside voice, and the women in the class got up and walked out. Not a frequent happenstance but one that was not met with opposition. At Keystone, you were encouraged to express your viewpoint as long as you did it respectfully. And how did Mr. O turn out, you ask? It was said that his outlook on life changed immeasurably after teaching Keystone’s students, and of course after he’d had his first date ever with a nice young lady (not a Keystonian). [Below: Wine bottled by "the most interesting man in our world."]

Another beautiful aspect of the school was that many of the teachers were still young enough in their credentialing to only be 5-10 years older than we were, unless they were 40 years older than we were. In fact, because Keystone was a nonprofit where it was month-to-month whether payroll could be met sometimes (I worked in the school office and the founders shared things with me because I asked questions of them), teacher salaries were not at all competitive in San Antonio.

Some of our teachers actually taught night classes at nearby San Antonio College, or St. Mary’s University, Incarnate Word, or Trinity to afford to be able to teach us. In fact, we often used the exact same college textbooks so they conveniently only needed one set of lesson plans.

As part of today’s events, special guests included Keystone’s headmaster, Dr. Billy Handmaker, and alumni coordinator, Hannah Hyde. Dr. Handmaker is exactly the headmaster to lead the school into the future as he described some of the school’s upcoming refurbishing of the present buildings (in full accordance with historical codes), and he referenced with such great ease and knowledge the various rooms, knowing where Coach Eargle’s office was, where Prof. and Mr. Greet lived, where the various locations of the Cobras student lounge was, and where the four-square courts were once. You’d have thought he’s been there for 20 years. That’s the blessing of having a headmaster who “gets” what Keystone was all about and is to become as it takes its natural course of changing to meet the demands of present-day students.

Best news also was hearing about the progress of scholarship funds available for lower-school students toward tuition, books and fee expenses. This will assure the continuation of the tremendous diversity in the student body. In reflecting today with a Class of ’69 member, we remembered that some students arrived at school being driven in late model luxury cars, others were in ten-year-old station wagons, and other students took the city bus to get to the same place.

Once inside the buildings, you couldn’t tell one student apart from another, because everyone at Keystone was family on equal footing, distinguished only by a point or two on a test score, or a place atop the Top 10 academic leader board in South Hall.. Reunion organizers presented Dr. Handmaker with a gift toward the scholarship fund from the Class of ’69. Alumni activities have been encouraged and supported substantially by the school, and it was noted that any Keystonian who wants to see the place again is most welcome to come by for a personal tour.

Following the slide show, alumni participated in a rousing game of “Who is it here who has…” questions, and for every question that was answered correctly, alums were to come up and get a brick (four different colors and sizes and would you believe that in the free choices, every alum picked out all four different types of bricks? Again, not a nerd in the batch!).

By the time the questions were done, tables were filled with bricks in front of the alumni, all rather evenly matched. Who won? That’s the beauty of the game. The winner was: The entire Class of 1969, because each one of them had encouraged, nurtured, contributed, served, given back, and furthered knowledge and inspired others to pursue their dreams both by their examples and by their actions.

As this 50 year reunion took place, it was noted by name that only one member of the class had passed away in that time. Reunion organizing committee Carmen Tafolla, Ciro Ramirez, and Velma Nanka-Bruce did an absolutely amazing job of locating as many graduates as they did. Response via the slide show (photos and life updates) was grand, and promises were made to meet again next year, because it was too much fun to wait five more years until the 55th.

For most, Keystone is a place that lives on in the hearts of those who experienced it. Time will never take away the memories of some of the very best years of their young lives, for they all went through those times—together. That’s just what family does.

It was a joy to be present today, among the upperclassmen who were my early role models, my heroes, and who showed me how to treat those students coming up in classes behind me—with love and patience. You all haven’t changed a bit, and you all will be “forever 18” to me.

Respectfully submitted,

DLW

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Reaching for the Sky, for the Sake of Dr. Ernesto Bernal

As a child, I had very few heroes. The fluidity of childhood meant growth and change, so there wasn’t a fixed amount of time to develop long-term trust in adults, save for their daily presence in your life. Thanks to Keystone School, all the educators placed teaching as their number one priority, so eventually I’d find many heroes throughout my years there.

To be clear, the founders were never my heroes; they were facilitators in my life. Aside from my mom, I do recall awarding the first title of “hero” to the future Dr. Ernesto Bernal, who taught English and Government to the high schoolers. At the time, he was known as “Mr. Bernal” or “Mr. B.” I trusted him implicitly, instinctively, and I was, and remain, slow to give my trust.

Keystone’s campus was a collective of old Victorian style homes in the Monte Vista District of San Antonio. Not only did it feel like home, it looked like home. Fireplaces in certain rooms, old-time radiators in others, a red plastic vinyl couch in the main hallway for children to sit on between classes, and a full-scale commercial kitchen smack in the middle of the building with amazing cooks preparing homemade lunches. The old carriage house was now a makeshift science lab with a classroom directly upstairs, accessed by iron railed steps. There was no gymnasium; we had an asphalt basketball court. Yes, we were home all right.

As a discerning child, clearly more skeptical than I realized until years later, I expected people to fall into one of two categories: ones who would do what they said they would do, and others whose word meant nothing.

One of the “grown-ups” I met first at Keystone was Mr. Bernal. He’d soared through Central Catholic High School and St. Mary’s University and when I arrived, he was teaching at Keystone, highly regarded as both teacher and friend by all my friends in high school. That last sentence might give you pause to doubt…a five-year-old with friends in high school? That was Keystone, though, and as diverse as we were in race, creed, and socioeconomic level, we were diverse in the ages of our friends. At the time, I was about 18 months younger than most of my own classmates. So, the high schoolers were fascinating to me, as they never talked “down” to me. Not one.

That’s how I was bold enough to address a “grown-up” and greet Mr. Bernal often, early in the morning when he arrived on campus and checked into the dining room to welcome the day. With his warm, loving smile, my eyes quickly found his and I went right up to him. He extended his hand and shook it firmly and bowed his six-foot-plus frame to meet me at eye level, without crouching down. His deep, rich voice resonated with his words.

Everyone received the same greeting, so I wasn’t any different than the others. He carefully studied all his “future” students. His senior high students adored him, and they considered him a mentor, friend, and almost equal, as he was really only about six years older than they were.

Later, Mr. Bernal would embark on master’s studies at St. Mary’s, while teaching. Although he ultimately left Keystone in 1966 to pursue doctoral studies full-time, it wouldn’t be the last time we’d see him. He’d come back occasionally to visit with some students who were now seniors themselves. Now, they addressed him as Ernie. He remained their friend and mentor, even if he wasn’t their teacher. And, St. Mary’s wasn’t that far away and we loved seeing him.

And, it wasn’t until Oct. 1, 2016, that I would learn the story behind how Ernie came to Keystone. I will quote directly from the beautiful words written by his wife, Carmen, and shared on the day of the unveiling of a most special honor, long overdue. As she writes,

“On the Monday after Labor Day, 1960, Ernie M. Bernal, a 22-year-old brand new graduate of St. Mary’s University, walked into Keystone School to start a job as high school English teacher and Government teacher. His job interview with Coach Edwin W. Eargle, Headmaster of Keystone, had been rather rushed and he was told, ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you.’ Coach added, ‘WE have a lot of applicants for this job.’ Ernie answered, ‘Not like me you don’t.’ And he was invited to sit back down and chat a while.”

Of course, he was hired.

Just as every student basically was involved in as many extracurricular activities as possible, Keystone faculty wore more than two hats. Originally asked to help grade the entrance exams screening potential Keystone students, Ernie asked if he could reach out to expand the pool of scholarship students by calling colleagues and friends at every high school across San Antonio including all socioeconomic backgrounds to send their best to try out.

They immediately agreed. It was because of Ernie Bernal that Keystone truly became ethnically diverse and seamlessly so. Throughout my entire twelve years at Keystone it was always the most wonderful learning experience everyone enjoyed. It wasn’t simply tolerance for others’ beliefs, we embraced our cultural diversity and brought out the best in one another, always with respect. That’s to Ernie’s insight and credit plus others’ good judgment.

Keystone graduated more than the usual number of future scientists and doctors, but they educated everyone to be critical thinkers and even philosophers, ready to take on anything and everything with a passion. Debate was encouraged, opposing ideas always welcome. Independent thought among students was cultivated. Spirits of creativity abounded.

For six years, from 1960 to 1966, Keystone flourished with the presence of educator Bernal. But as a child, I never knew that. While teaching at Keystone, he completed his M.Ed. in Education and had risen to Vice Principal of the High School, while teaching English and Social Studies. I only knew Mr. Bernal greeted me every morning with a smile, a bow down to shake my hand, and a lovely wish to have a great day, along with a gentle admonition to work hard. I did so willingly, with his encouragement.

As you can see from some of the yearbook photos, Russian, German, Spanish, French, and Latin were the languages taught in addition to Chemistry, Biology, English, Math, Physics, and Music. You took as many classes as you could handle, with the permission of Mr. Bernal and Coach Eargle, who assessed each student’s future college interests and gave permission.

I couldn’t wait to introduce my mom to my friend, Mr. Bernal. One day he was on campus after school let out, and my mom came to pick me up after working her secretarial civil service job at a San Antonio AFB. When they saw each other, there was a warm recognition in both of their eyes as she said to me, “Dawn Lee, I’ve known Ernie for years, since he was a young man.” Turns out, he had a first job working at the executive offices of the grocery store chain for which my mother had worked, long before she met and married my dad. She’d proudly watched him grow up.

Later that night, Mom pulled out a copy of an old newsletter she’d designed for the company, showed me his picture and told me how he was one of the young people the company hired for the summer and how hard he worked. I had long forgotten that for decades until I saw that exact same photograph in Ernesto’s tribute video Sunday night. It nearly tore my heart out as I flashed back to being five years old again, when I had just first met Mr. Bernal, and the memories flooded through as did the need to cry, but I didn’t. Not then at least.

People weave in and out of our lives, just as the beautiful “Weaving of Words: Quotations and Tributes” that were shared Sunday night by Rose Catacalos and Kevin McManus, two of his dear friends. Keystone students’ quotes were among those included. One of the most beautiful was shared by Patricia (Jeski) Goodspeed, “He was the most influential teacher I ever had.”

I smiled hearing that, as I’d been the one to read one of the most beautiful tributes Patti wrote for him just a year ago, on the occasion of a beautiful brick paver being unveiled on the campus of Keystone School, an event he attended where he was fully aware of the love of all those who’d come for that very special day and others who shared their love via e-mail.

During the Life Celebration, my mind wandered during the lovely preservice music. I reflected on meeting Mary Carmen Tafolla, when she entered Keystone’s ninth grade, the final year that Mr. Bernal was at Keystone. Carmen was one of the kindest upperclassmen, adorable with a loving personality and a twinkle in her eyes.

She always had her arms piled full of books, foreshadowing her future as 2012 San Antonio Poet Laureate (first ever) and 2015 Texas State Poet Laureate. After Mr. Bernal left Keystone, eventually Jim Klaeveman would come to teach English and fill the void Ernie left, challenging students to express themselves. It was Ernie’s destiny calling him, and he had even more powerful accomplishments ahead.

When Carmen graduated, she went to Texas Lutheran College in Seguin, then Austin College and ultimately, like many Keystone women, she’d go on to earn her doctorate degree at UT Austin. She distinguished herself as a writer quickly. It wasn’t until many years later that the perfectly magical pairing of Carmen and Ernie would be created. Manifesting miracles happens with faith, and this was ultimately just one more example of that.

In his collegiate career, Ernie taught at St. Mary’s University, the University of Texas at San Antonio, California State University–Fresno, Northern Arizona University, and ultimately became Dean of Education at University of Texas–Pan American. Carmen wrote prolifically, and no one in the world was prouder or more supportive of her than her Ernesto.

The Bernals, Carmen and Ernie, shared 38 magical, loving years together, weathered the loss of their first child, Cielos, and the health challenge that Carmen refused to give into, emerging victorious from that battle. Carmen lost her beloved mother (age 99), in January this year. Yet, she remained brilliant as an author, writing while faithfully caring for their children and providing daily loving care for Ernie, who fought Parkinson’s through Stage 5 and beyond. Never once did Carmen complain. Ernesto’s love and the love they shared was sufficient to see her through the demands of her daily life. Keystone kids are multitaskers—we insist on it. But there’s a limit, yet Carmen soared above the limit.

She has always been a hero (she-ro) to me, just because she was a published writer. I loved seeing her when I’d return to San Antonio for Keystone reunions, formal and informal, with all the upperclassmen I’d admired growing up. We were only a few years apart and class year was never a barrier to being part of a Keystone family activity. For so many years, Tommye Brennan Howard ’63 hosted a gathering in her home, or we’d meet at Jim’s Coffee Shop for a reunion burger and fries and hours of coffee and conversation.

I remember once we all came together specifically to help “save” Keystone from (I’m searching for a kind word here) less-than-gifted leadership. Many alumni were so concerned that we met with Keystone parents and board members to determine whether we could be helpful.

Ultimately the leadership continued a few more years. Independently, a few Keystone alumni and Ernesto formed the Camino School concept, and the San Antonio Gifted Education Foundation was started. This school was described in one of Ernesto’s numerous peer-reviewed academic publications.

What I never knew, even until I heard it Sunday night, was the pioneer and cutting-edge researcher that Ernesto had become throughout his educational and academic administrative positions. He never spoke of it at gatherings; he was entirely focused on what we were all doing in our lives and careers, forever the encourager who believed in us unconditionally. We thought everything was golden in academe.

My heart broke to hear on Sunday night, from two of Ernesto’s academic colleagues, that because of his brilliance and innovation and the fact that he was a natural pied piper of future educational leaders, others—often in a superior administrative position—were jealous of him. They tried to find ways and means of quashing his light, but they were not the gifted and talented educator that Ernie was, and they failed.

That they tried, though, hurt so badly to hear. But as one of his students recalled, he was merely amused at their attempts. Because he was smarter, he considered the source of the discontent and projected pity for the purveyor. Yet, you know he felt the pain of interdepartmental rivalry. Academic egos are often so fragile, and there’s such competition for the spotlight that it’s commonplace.

Ernie’s brilliance and respect garnered among his peers, from professional colleagues to students, would dwarf any insecure person. Yet, academics is supposed to be the home of sharing, interacting, exchanging ideas and getting to the best ones. However, it’s also home base for those who would prefer to argue over the location of their precious parking space.

Although those colleagues no doubt caused Ernie to seek new academic positions elsewhere at times, from those trials came the opportunities to work with even brighter minds, interacting with new students and reaching out to an even larger audience through the new works accomplished. What we heard was how Ernie had encouraged virtually every student he interacted with to become an honors student, to work hard, give back, love life, and be a good community servant. Several private “good deeds” never before heard about Ernie’s life included spending consecutive weekends chopping wood and delivering it to homes in need for winter heat across town; early on, despite a tight budget, he shared generously and often helping families in need.

One future CEO wrote about how, when Ernesto was being pushed out of a department by a jealous superior, he made a phone call to assure that young faculty would have jobs, personally placing them around the country. One younger colleague remembers he said she’d be “just perfect” for a job in company of which she is, 25 years later, now the CEO. These individual stories, loving messages and diverse testimonials formed the portrait of a man we all loved without even knowing these things.

On the 50th anniversary of Ernesto’s teaching career, many of us from Keystone gathered among the crowd in Olga and Al Kauffman’s home. The Keystone kids included: Bruce and Suzi Hughes, Bonnie Ellison, Wayne Vick, and my beloved big sister/friend, Tommye Brennan Howard. We paid tribute to the man who’d changed our lives forever with his love, of us and of education. It was wonderful to meet Father Eddie Bernal, Ernesto’s younger brother, whom he’d badgered his mother —relentlessly—to bring into their lives.

In an adorable story told Sunday, Ernie so greatly wanted a younger brother, and he asked his mother all the time for one. As was shared, Ernie’s mother explained to him that she was now a bit older and the possibility existed that it was risky and that she might have a child born with two heads. That didn’t deter Ernie one bit as he said, in Spanish, that he would absolutely love a baby brother with two heads!! We all exploded with laughter, knowing how passionate he was about his causes. Fr. Eddie was another of God’s gifts to everyone as he was the light of Ernie’s life for so many years, until a heart attack took him on May 29, 2016. Still, we were all together for Ernesto's special celebration, as lovingly created by Carmen, Olga, and Al, for all of us to enjoy.

It didn’t seem that long ago we were all together at the Kauffman home, offering our thoughts and written tributes, visiting with each other like it was 1963. It wasn’t. Sadly, illness struck Ernie and it came in the form of Parkinson’s Disease. It was a challenge he battled bravely and with dignity. In late summer 2014, Tommye and I had planned a day to bring lunch and visit with Ernie and Carmen. Tommye was bringing the food (you knew that already) and I would be bringing the Bill Miller’s iced tea (you knew that already, too). Sadly, the night before our planned day, Ernesto was admitted to the hospital, so the visit was postponed. “Soon,” we said. “We’ll do it very soon,” we all agreed.

Didn’t happen. Just two weeks later Tommye suffered a heart attack, and while in the hospital, it was discovered that she’d had end-stage cancer that had gone undiagnosed. A week later she was gone. Not bringing this up to mark yet more sorrow but only to emphasize the fragility of life and to pound it into my head to never miss a day telling people who are important in my life that they are important in my life, irreplaceable, and loved.

In 2016, when we were celebrating Ernesto’s paver unveiling at Keystone, Carmen was still reflecting Ernesto’s modesty in sharing only some information about his pioneering career work, noting that he’d “published the first research on the gifted Mexican American child, and became a well-respected scholar in the fields of gifted bilingual education, psychometrics, and test bias.”

In fact, as we learned things we’d never known before on Sunday, Dr. Ernesto MarroquĂ­n Bernal required multiple individuals speaking to share just a few of his achievements. He had been chosen to deliver the inaugural address at the Escola di Marketing, EducaciĂł, y AdministraciĂł in Barcelona, Spain, because of his role in organizational change. Imagine if you will a young man from San Antonio, Texas with a passion for life and education, able to change the world with his brilliant mind. That was Ernesto.

He developed the Division of Bicultural/Bilingual Studies at UTSA in the 1970s together with Dr. Albar Peña and Dr. Tomás Rivera. The Bernals together with former Keystone students created Camino, a bilingual school for the gifted and creative child. We knew about Camino, but we didn’t know that Ernie had been honored by the College Board for his work exposing them to the testing bias of their instruments. What he showed in his research was that minority children were being mislabeled “culturally deprived” and he shone a light on the gifted Latino child, which had never been done before.

National recognition and accolades were heaped upon Ernesto in his lifetime but still they only measured one aspect of his impact. If any one area of accomplishment should be highlighted, it was his ability to teach others when statistics were actually valid and reliable vs. when they were false elements used as weapons to boost misguided precepts.

There was beautiful music incorporated into Ernesto’s life celebration, including “Danos Paz,” offered by Chayito Champion and Steve Arispe, then “Here I Am Lord,” and “On Eagle’s Wings,” with Helen Lloyd on guitar leading the congregation and the conclusion was the Champion family performing “Sevillana — an Expression of Despedida,” a final farewell.

A moving rosary was held to conclude Sunday night’s observations and reflections on his life. On Monday, Sept. 11, the funeral liturgy was held at St. Timothy’s Catholic Church with a Mass of the Resurrection. In both services, a magnificent video was shared that was prepared lovingly by David H.B.T. MarroquĂ­n. Son Israel Bernal read “High Flight” in commemoration of Ernesto’s love of flying. The Rosary Recitation, presented by so many faithful friends, reminded us to focus on giving thanks to God for his life.

It is said that angels get their wings when they transition from the earthly existence to the next life in Heaven. I’m inclined to dispute the timing on that concept, in that, upon reflection, surely we had an angel here among us for some 79 years of his life and more than 50 years among ours. We do not grieve for Ernie, who is at last free of the constraints that prevented him from communication, except through his loving, knowing eyes.

We grieve for his family and for ourselves that we had to say goodbye, but rather than wallow in yet more pity and pain of loss, it would seem fitting that we can rededicate our lives and our daily activities to doing our best, being our best, helping strangers and friends alike, encouraging children we meet to become honor students, to live lives filled with passionate pursuit of “the best,” in whatever form they perceive it. For if we can do that, and keep Ernesto’s example uppermost in our minds, then we can reach for the sky, just as he taught us, and be our most authentic selves. God bless you, Ernesto, and thank you for your love of the Keystone kids. You’re still my hero.