When you live in the small city you grew up in, you go to a
lot of wakes. It’s not that more people
die here, it’s just that more people touch each others lives. Even when we think we are going to just to
support one of our friends that lost a loved one, we find memories of our own
reflected in the pictures on display in the funeral home. We are all interconnected in a special
way. From time to time it feels
suffocating, but more often than not, it is comfort in the connection. These roots run deep and it helps us not feel
as if we are floating on our own.
Today we said our final good bye to Mr. Richard Betz a
teacher beloved throughout the community.
I stood in line for an hour with my husband who grew up golfing with Mr.
Betz, my mother-in-law who took part in the healing touch ministry Mr. Betz and
his wife led at the local hospital, and a high school friend a few years my senior
who came on behalf of her classmates that live far away. There were friends who met the Betzs through
their yoga instruction and former athletes that can contribute their golf
swing, wrestling moves and sportsmanship to Mr. Betz. With wet eyes and crackling voices we told
his wife our best memories of him. They
were all unique. I was lucky enough to
grow up as an extended part of his family.
My parents stopped by afterwards and they had stories of their own from
family birthday parties, graduations and weddings. Although his lifetime was far too short, it
was a life time filled with people, stories, and community.
Mr. Betz’s teaching style was simple. Love your subject, love your students, work
hard. His lesson plans didn’t come from
the latest and greatest study on education.
They came from the nightly news, the New York Times, and the 3
Stooges. He facilitated conversations
by sitting at our level and just asking what we thought. I took his AP Government class during the Impeachment of President
Clinton. Every morning he came in with a
VHS tape from the night before of Cokie Roberts covering the latest phase of the saga. His
adoration for Cokie was contagious and we cheered when she came on the
screen. What better way to learn about
government than to see it in action.
Reading the online guest book of his obituary a student shared a similar
story of learning government through current news, but he had Mr. Betz during
Watergate. The political junky in me
(that he helped create) is a bit jealous of that. If they kept voter registration stats, Mr.
Betz would be the all time highest recruiter in Montgomery County. He didn’t care what party you registered for
but you would register. If you needed
help, he had a political personality quiz or two that would help you find your
party.
Mr. Betz was notorious for cutting out New York Times
articles he thought a student might be interested in. A good friend who is a political science professor
today remembers Mr. Betz cutting out articles for him even though their
politics could not be more different.
Another online writer remembers Mr. Betz making her feel welcome as she
adjusted to America and still brought her articles about her home country to
the grocery store she worked at after graduation.
When things got too heavy, Mr. Betz called on the 3
Stooges. Most of us were too young to be
that familiar with them so we found it hysterical. Besides the laughter Mr. Betz also had a
purpose to showing them through the moral of the story or a connection between
Larry , Moe, and Curly and some of our current elected officials. When a
student was having a hard day, Mr. Betz could tell. He’d write a pass for them to stop by later
or stay after class. He was there to
listen, there to help. If you just
needed some quiet time for yourself, he’d give you that too. Love your subject, love your students, work
hard. In a day when teachers and
students are drowning in educational jargon, there is a beauty in the
simplicity of his teaching.
Mr. and Mrs. Betz were before their time when it came to
teaching the “whole person.” They were
into yoga before yoga was cool. We were offered free and discounted student rates at the classes they taught at the local
Methodist Church. These classes were the
perfect escape as we stressed over college acceptances, graduation, and high
school life. They began healing touch or
Reiki style therapy at the hospital with Sister Rita Jean helping countless
people. The Betzs traveled to Arizona a
couple of times a year for yoga and healing retreats. It seemed a natural retirement place except
for the dedication the Betzs had to their community. What was natural to them was to stay here,
continue yoga, healing touch therapy, golf, teaching youth golf clinics and
being active members of their families
and community. Sure, Mr. Betz still lamented that it was harder to find the New
York Times two hours away from NYC than two thousand miles away. But home was where they stayed.
After we gave our condolences to Mrs. Betz she turned to her
brother-in-law and said, “Can you believe it?
Who would have thought such a big impact?” Of course her brother-in-law believed it, we
all believed it. But to Mr. and Mrs.
Betz, it was just part of living in a community. Their daily activities were not for attention
or accolades, but to be present where they were needed and to give where they could. It was so simple that I didn’t realize the
full impact he had until now. I hope he
knew how many lives he touched and what a better place this community was
because of him. I am glad we were all
able to tell his wife and family. Love your subject,
love your students, work hard and go out and vote. Rest in peace, Mr. Betz, Namaste.
