Mary Ellen Ryder

How can you explain how much someone means to you in words. Sometimes I feel like I can. In this case, I can't. Mary Ellen was my best friend, and I loved her. I will always love her, and I will always have this heartache. They discovered the cause of the fire yesterday. I hope someone is held accountable. Here's what I wrote Tuesday afternoon, in the midst of falling apart. There is so much more to her. Her love of books, her telling me the plots of countless magical stories. Her beliefs in learning, in reading, in the ease of doing what others perceive to be difficult, her beliefs in me. Her books, her music, her cats, Peter, her sister. On and on. Such a tragedy. I wish I had more pictures of her. I'm just not a person who brings along the camera. I need to learn to do that better. Thanks, dad, for these.

I needed to send this letter along for Mary Ellen Ryder. She meant so much to me. I wanted to personalize a little bit of who she was.
Besides my husband John, Mary Ellen Ryder was my best friend. I am devastated by what happened to her last night. All I can do is think about who she was as a teacher, and as my friend. I think about the last time we met, how she bought me a lovely pair of earrings in Hyde Park after lunch, and our afternoon talk. We had many of those... too many to count. I will miss them terribly.
There were so many people whose lives were touched, and who were inspired by her to think, and to be positive. Her outlook on life usually had a giggle behind it. She could be sarcastic about policy and politics, and when the subject turned, be the most tenderhearted woman I’ve met.
I met Mary Ellen in 2004 when I talked with her about studying linguistics. I was a non-traditional student who spoke Scots Gaelic, and wanted to go farther into studying the science of language through BSU. She offered me a chair in her full introduction to linguistics class and I took to it instantly: partially because of my interest, but fully because of her excitement to bring me into the field of linguistics. She, like many others, gave me her phone numbers and asked me to call her anytime. Not too early, because she stayed up late, but anytime before 11:00pm was okay with her…. Well, not just okay, it was welcome. Gail Shuck, one of her fellow linguistics professors, and I spoke this morning about this tragedy on the phone and we both felt overwhelmingly bittersweet while we imitated the sound of her cheerful, “Hello” that she did when she knew it was she or I, or any of her close friends who was calling.
I was Mary Ellen’s intern for two semesters. We already had a close bond, but this just brought us closer. She wanted to prepare me for teaching at a University once I made it through all the hurdles she lovingly helped me through. I learned a lot about teaching from her. I learned that you are generous with your students. You are generous with all the information they need to be successful; you are generous with your time, and your respect for the students, so that when it comes time for them to take the tests, which could be difficult, they succeed if only they took her up on her generosity. I am so thankful I was able to watch this process from both angles, as a student, and as a tutor. I will take what I learned from her and use it when I teach, with a special place in my heart knowing exactly where it came from.
I had many classes from her over the years. On top of that we met every Wednesday at Moxi Java so we could dive into Latin and it’s morphology together. Usually that involved twenty minutes of hard work, and two hours of great conversation. Our friendship became something that lasted outside the walls of the University. She came to my graduation party in May, and was there before me. (Picture of her and Peter at the party is attached). She was that way, though. She was excited to support me through my journey at BSU. Our lunches were an important part of our lives and I had expected and hoped that I would continue to meet her for those lunches until the day we died. I didn’t expect that to come so quickly. I would give anything to rewind the last two days and try to change things. I know it’s not possible. I only wish so terribly I could.
I loved Mary Ellen Ryder. She became a part of my life. My husband John loved her and our friendship. I loved her husband, Peter. I am so concerned for him now. I feel helpless knowing that I have so little to offer that is tangible. I only hope that it will help him to know how much I care for him, and how much I cared for her… how much I will always care for her. I’m so sorry to lose her. I am devastated by this great and personal loss. I can’t imagine what Peter is going through now. I send him my deepest thoughts and concerns. I sit feeling helpless and lost, knowing that she is gone, and the place where I could reach him is gone. I need to be able to do something, so for now, I’ll send along this letter in hopes that I can personalize her somewhat more. I could never show in words, however, the sound of her “Hello,” nor the sweetness of her eyes, nor the excitement in her step. I can say that she was my friend and she will be missed.