One minute we might be discussing Viet Nam, the next minute it might Jesuit priests in South America, the next it might be 17th century interpretations of the occult. And then he would smile-always smile-and offer that there was so much he wanted to write about and talk about and think about. Nathan was a never-ending source of intellectual stimulation. And with all that pursuit of knowledge, he never failed to laugh – at himself, at what he had written, at what others had written. Never malicious, never ironic, never mean-Nathan's love of learning always came with laughter.

It is a rare and privileged opportunity to stand here and offer a few words about my friend Nathan.

There isn't enough time this afternoon for me to put into words all that Nathan meant to Troy University in the short time he was with us. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned that it is not the longevity of the journey that matters. Rather, it is the passion and the power and the promise of that sojourn that leaves behind a measure of its true worth. Certainly, in the case of Nathan, he did not stay with us at Troy University near long enough. And it would not have been long enough if he had stayed a decade or more. Although, I am certain that Troy University and all of us who are Trojans would have been enriched beyond measure if Nathan had stayed with us for 10 or 20 or 30 years.

Above all else, Nathan was the living embodiment of what it truly means to be a professor: he loved learning and he loved the learners. From the very first time I met Nathan, when I interviewed him as a candidate for a faculty position in our History department, I knew that he loved learning. He *absorbed* ideas and issues like very few people I have ever known. He *ranged* across fields of study that, individually, should have been sufficient for a lifetime's work. He *connected* what he had read and thought in one area with scores of readings and thoughts in other areas. In our conversations, admittedly, I chased after him, trying to keep up. One minute we might be discussing Viet Nam, the next minute it might Jesuit priests in South America, the next it might be 17th century interpretations of the occult. And then he would smile-always smile-and offer that there was so much he wanted to write about and talk about and think about. Nathan was a never-ending source of intellectual stimulation. And with all that pursuit of knowledge, he never failed to laugh – at himself, at what he had written, at what others had written. Never malicious, never ironic, never mean-Nathan's love of learning always came with laughter.

And of course it might have been enough if Nathan had simply been among the best and brightest thinkers to pursue his love of learning while here at Troy.

But Nathan loved the learners, too.

Nathan's enduring legacy will be the students he helped along the way-some by listening, some by encouraging, and some simply by being the figure who bridged the chasm between Faculty and Student. He helped the students from right down the road and he helped the ones from halfway around the world. If you were a student and you found yourself in Nathan's orbit, then he knew who you were and he cared about you.

Nathan and I were part of Dr. Schmidt's original team that went to a summer time conference in Utah and came home with a plan for First Year Studies at Troy University. He was such an integral part of the selection process for Common Reading Initiative book in its first two years. I remember that his first choice in our first meeting was a 600-page biographical work translated out of the French, but as Nathan said, "the students could read it in the original if they wanted to." And Nathan laughed (although I seem to recall he recommended a similar book the second year).

Nathan was a driving force behind the creation of the Interdisciplinary Seminar (IDS 2200). The course fit so nicely into how Nathan saw students: as colleagues and partners in the journey toward knowledge. That course, too, is a part of Nathan's legacy at Troy University.

Lest you think that Nathan was a kind of sainted teacher-scholar, a kind of 21st century Mr. Chips who had landed on Troy's shores, allow me to remind you he had a wicked sense of humor. Flying out of Utah, in a gathering summer thunderstorm, Nathan, who was sitting next to me, began an involved story of his trip out of an African country. Just as we were in that critical phase of take-off, Nathan began a detailed description of how the African plane blew an engine on take-off and how they flew home, across the Atlantic, on one engine. At that point, as our plane was bouncing around in the sky, I turned to Nathan and asked him if we could talk about some other topic. He looked at me, smiled and then Nathan laughed.

On this past Friday night, I dreamed I was here on campus and walked into a meeting. This is hardly surprising since I seem to spend so much of my time these days sitting in meetings. At the meeting, I saw Nathan sitting there, at the conference table. And I knew that Nathan had left us and that I wouldn't sit across from him in any more of our gatherings. And as dreams often are, in the next moment, the meeting was over and people had dispersed but as I looked, Nathan was still sitting at the table and he was laughing.

And in that moment, in my dream I realized that Nathan has only left us in the physical sense. His spirit, his legacy and his laughter are a part of Troy University. He will be the subject of scores of stories told by those of us who knew him–told amongst ourselves as we remember the privilege of having been a part of his sojourn here and told to those who never had the chance to know him so that they will understand why Nathan meant so much to us and to Troy University.

And I believe that when we tell our stories, we will smile and when they are told, Nathan will be laughing.
 

Comments from Troy University's Associate Provost Dr. Hal Fulmer made at Nathan Alexander's Troy University memorial service on August 24, 2009. The IC tribute page to Nathan is here .