Jim Mehegan taught geology at Riverside Community College from 1996 until 2004, when he died of a heart atttack in July during a trip kayaking the Colorado River. I have had many teachers and colleagues whom I have respected immensely, but Jim combined excellence in teaching and commitment to the life of the institution in a way precious few do.

6 August 2004

Remembering Jim

It has been 13 years since I received a phone call as deeply saddening as the one I received from Karin Skiba a few days ago. That phone call, like Karin’s, was to inform me that someone I cared for deeply had died. That phone call, 13 years ago, wasn't a surprise. Erich, my closest friend since fourth grade, had been depressed and alcoholic for several years before he took his own life. Learning that Jim had died left me speechless.

Perhaps it shouldn't have. I remembered the observation Virginia McKee-Leone made about Jim after going on one of his many geology field trips a year ago: “Jim’s won’t die of old age,” Virginia had observed. I knew that Jim had “health issues.” He spoke matter-of-factly about the regular injections his arthritis required. Only a few weeks ago I learned that Jim was diabetic. But Jim didn't wear his health issues on his sleeve; we should all be so healthy as Jim. On more than a few occasions, I invited Jim for dinner or for a party, but on every occasion, Jim had a date with a surfboard, a kayak, or a hiking staff. Just a few weeks ago Jim was joking about the concussion he’d received for a moment’s inattention while kayaking on the Kern River the previous weekend. None of us knows when our heart or brain may give out, from a heart attack or a stroke; Jim didn't know. All of us would live longer, other things being equal, by living as active and vital a life as did Jim.

Jim was a great teacher, and I know this the way we all know whom of our colleagues is truly committed to and the master of his craft: from the students we share in common. Jim’s students were more varied than are most of ours. They included the college President. They included many of his teacher colleagues who went on Jim’s geology flex trips. I count myself lucky to have gone on one of those trips. And like all natural teachers, Jim never stopped teaching. We couldn't have even the shortest of conversations about my home in the San Bernardino Mountains without discussing earthquakes, debris flows, or decomposed granite. During one of our last conversations, Jim had been teaching me about the number of human communities built in proximity to active volcanoes, and the belief of geologists that sometime in the next century, one million human beings would die as a result of living too close to a volcano that only seemed to be sleeping. This is to say that Jim knew that human beings live close to death, and should live, as much as they can, with the future they cannot avoid.

Jim was supposed to spend his fall semester teaching abroad on RCC’s fall Florence, Italy program, and as those who knew him knew, he began buying books (and geology books are evidently anything but cheap) and educating himself about Italian geology and vulcanology long before he was selected to teach in Italy. Even had he not been selected to go to Florence, he would not have thought the money invested in those books to be wasted, since they took their place contributing to his own broader command of his field.

In yet another way, Jim was an ideal colleague. I grew up in the 1960s and have always maintained what many would consider a naïve belief in the potential for human beings to work together democratically. My friendship with Jim constantly confirmed that my idealism was not completely naïve. For in addition to being a stellar teacher, in the classrooms of RCC and the Grand Canyon, Jim was also a stellar colleague in those venues where faculty seek to fulfill their obligations to the institutions which make it possible to follow their intellectual muses. Jim was active on both the academic senate and our CTA executive board. Jim understood that as human beings we wear many hats, and Jim was a committed member of both the RCC Academic Senate and RCC CTA branch. The positions he argued that the Senate should advocate were distinct—though not inconsistent or conflicting--from the role he advocated CTA should pursue. I disagreed with Jim at times, but I never had reason to doubt either the sincerity of his point of view or its cogency. Yet Jim was also deeply respectful of his colleagues whose teaching or research kept them distant from the democratic obligations of our institutional responsibilities.

To a degree that I think exemplary, Jim respected others, and always understood that respect was not predicated on agreement. When Jim left his tenured position at CSUSB, his department chair refused for two years to accept his resignation, insisting that he remain on leave. Jim got along with the President and administrators of the college, though he sometimes questioned the way in which they led the college. During the final stages of contract negotiations this past spring, Jim spoke clearly of the importance of faculty supporting the work of their negotiation team, even though he had been critical—and even briefly resigned from the executive board—over his principled concerns about the appointment of that team. Being human, we will all continue to disagree with one another—we would be lucky indeed to disagree as articulately and respectfully as Jim’s example demonstrated to us.

I'm pretty sure Jim was not religious, though it may be that it was creationist geology that galvanized Jim’s understanding of religion. On the few occasions that I spoke with him about Greg Burchette’s idea that RCC should offer a course on evolution that would look at the subject from both the perspective of the natural sciences and varying religious cosmologies, Jim was very concerned that the area of expertise of those two very different disciplines be kept distinct. So I close with a passage from Annie Dillard’s book, For the Time Being, which seeks to be true to both the world that science presents us and that religions teach us to interpret:

“I saw to the south a man walking. He was breaking ground in perfect silence. He wore a harness and pulled a plow. His feet trod his figure’s blue shadow, and the plow cut a long blue shadow in the field. He turned back as if to check the furrow, or as if he heard a call. Again I saw another man on the plain to the north. This man walked slowly with a spade, and turned the green ground under. Then before me in the near distance I saw the earth itself walking, the earth walking dark and aerated as it always does in every season peeling the light back: The earth was plowing the men under, and the spade and the plow. No one sees us go under. No one sees generations churn, or civilizations. The green fields grow up forgetting.

“Ours is a planet sown in beings. Our generations overlap like shingles. We don’t fall in rows like hay, but we fall. Once we get here we spend forever on the globe, most of it tucked under. While we breathe we open time like a path in the grass. We open time as a boat’s stem slits the crest of the present.”

It is a false cliche that none of us are irreplaceable. Certainly we can hire a new geologist. Another teacher will go to Italy in Jim’s place; his department will choose a new chair and a new Senate representative. CTA will initially appoint a new Vice President. The persons who are appointed to those positions will know or will learn that they have “taken Jim’s place” only in the most superficial of ways. Jim cannot be replaced, though perhaps each of us might learn and dedicate ourselves a bit to doing better what he did so well. That would be the most fitting tribute we could offer.

[Annie Dillard, For the Time Being (New York:Vintage, 1999), 203.]

back to homepage