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It’s a funny thing, when one of your teachers dies, especially at a distance of days and lives and circumstances. I remember in 2002, preparing to give a talk to some gathering of the Nursing Faculty at the University of Calgary when I found out that H.G. Gadamer had died, cut off in his prime at 102 years. It had the effect of stilling and suspending what then followed, a talk that has since fallen from memory except for that suspense. The death of a teacher casts the teaching up into the air. A painting in the gate-house will not quite suffice. Pictures can be deceptive, perhaps especially ones drawn from memory.

"There Will Not Always Be Teachers Like This": For G.B.M.