July 13, 2020
Gladys Odeneal says that Don Dillie picked the two of us out as being the true Liberals of MacArthur High School. Exactly how that happened I don’t know but it was an enjoyable relationship and even survived my slip and vote for Trump in 2016, although I had been fair to Left for 50 years. But I taught with Don for twenty-three years. Well, he was History and I was English, but we’d meet at lunch and teacher meetings and occasionally for a discussion in the hall. And we were both military and that is important, although there’s that time frame, he Korea and I Vietnam, and there’s a built-in respect, in those days you earned rank. But it was as a teacher and wit that I thought he was sensational. He was bright and very quotable, and I still use some of his sayings today. “It takes all kinds,” he would say, “And there are all kinds!” And he’d talk about Keynesian Economics, “You have to buy your way out of depression.” He’d discuss the wars and the causes of all things, and what the Wilsons and Roosevelts did or should have done to get things straight. But he was no mealy-mouth, and occasionally he’d flare forth with something that was a bit shocking but just as often humorous. Early on we were at breakfast and I was objecting to him picking up the bill and I had said so a time or two and finally he slapped the table and said, “It’s just a damn breakfast!” But one of my favorite things he said, because it was so unexpected, came at MacArthur. Somehow we had a teacher day but there were students roaming the hall with their kids, and Don said, “I was at my desk trying to get something done and looked up and there were six of the little bastards waving through the window!” So much for Liberal sentimentality!
It’s not that we socialized much, we had that age split and kid split, but we did some, and that was memorable. Donald Dillie did the greatest in my book, and that’s marry a great wife. We’ve all visited more and have gone to breakfast in later years, Gladys usually included, and Mildred is such a remarkably bright woman, and she’s been indefatigable with these later illnesses. But they weren’t joined at the hip and occasionally Don would want to see a movie, usually something controversial, “Last Temptation Of Christ,” and he’d say, “Would you want to see it,” as we did that movie in Champaign. He’d recommend a book and almost always use the same language, “It’s really very good!” And he talked of things we had in common, one being, of all things, East St. Louis where he was raised and still had a sister. I have a sister in Belleville and couldn’t believe what a fine place he said East St. Louis was in the late 40’s. “We’d catch a bus at night and ride throughout the city, and never be afraid.” “That high school was one of the models for the nation.” And remarkably, and perhaps his only slip in intelligence, he thought he could improve my beer habits. Both he and Mildred had taught in Germany and in the 80’s & 90’s he’d occasionally arrive at my door with a 6-pack of beer with some romantic carton and unpronounceable name. He, remarkably, had sometimes bought beer on one of the many “Elder Hostel” trips he and Mildred had taken, New York or something if you can believe. We’d have one and he’d say, “Don’t you think it’s remarkably good?” I, being but a Bush Man, and country boy to boot, could not tell it from the $3.95 six-pack, you know Navy enlisted instead of Army officer. But “Yes,” I’d say, “I do.” As Lincoln said, “Better be thought an idiot than to speak up and remove all doubt.” “Class,” as I always have said, “is born.”
Donald Dillie was a classy guy!
Sincerely, Dewey Akins