Kelley Harrington

Around the early 90s, Pat and I went to a Bobby McFerrin concert at the Schnitzer Concert Hall with Julie and Dennis, and a few other friends. Bobby's giant hit Don't Worry Be Happy had come out in 88 and we were delighted to get to see him live.

As I recall, Bobby came on stage and performed a song or two after which he began to engage with the audience. Almost immediately, like a horse to water, he locked eyes with Julie. It was apparent even from the stage with glaring lights, and sitting ten rows back that he was captivated by her. He proceeded to hilariously climb, as deftly as a highly trained dancer, over the rows of seats and people by carefully placing his feet on the armrests until he got to Julie.

Bobby began to ask Julie and the rest of our group a few questions. Finally, he asked her what she did for a living. Julie responded, "I used to teach." He then asked her, "What do you do now?" Instead of promoting herself and her position with Bobby and the packed hall, Julie, without missing a beat, replied, "I don't teach."
I have never forgotten this partly because it was a kick to see Bobby McFerrin, but mostly because of Julie's sharp wit and her enduring humility. She is still teaching all of us.