MK Speaker Series

THE HEADLINERS FOUNDATION PRESENTS
The Inaugural
*Michele Kay Speaker Series*

Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Go Behind the Scenes With Panelists Wayne Slater, Evan Smith, Peggy Fikac & Ken Herman as they discuss Rick Perry, Barack Obama and the year of the Teavangelicals How will the media cover the race?
for additional discussion questions see below
Wayne Slater is a Senior Political Writer for The Dallas Morning News. He previously served for 15 years as Austin bureau chief for The News covering national and state politics. He is a frequent guest on numerous network television shows and is co-author of two books, the New York Times best seller, Bush's Brain: How Karl Rove Made George W. Bush Presidential, published by John Wiley & Sons, and The Architect: Karl Rove and the Dream of Absolute Power, published by Random House

Evan Smith is the CEO and editor-in-chief of The Texas Tribune, which, in its first year in operation, won two national Edward R. Murrow Awards and a General Excellence Award from the Online News Association. Previously he spent nearly 26 years at Texas Monthly, retiring as the magazine's president and editor-in-chief. For eight years, Smith hosted the weekly interview program, Texas Monthly Talks, that aired on PBS stations statewide. He currently hosts, Overheard with Evan Smith, airing on PBS stations nationally
Peggy Fikac is Austin bureau chief and columnist for the San Antonio Express-News and Houston Chronicle. She covers government and politics - including Gov. Rick Perry's presidential race. Before the Hearst newspapers merged their Austin bureaus, Fikac was Express-News' bureau chief, starting just in time to jump on the campaign plane for George W. Bush's first presidential race. At the time, she considered it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to cover a Texas governor running for president. She previously worked for the Associated Press, specializing in public education coverage, where she traveled with the late Ann Richards during both of her campaigns for governor
Ken Herman, a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, is currently an editorial board member and columnist for the Austin American-Statesman. He began his journalism career in East Texas at the Lufkin Daily News in 1975. In 1977, Herman joined The Associated Press in Dallas, later moving to Harlingen to serve as the AP's correspondent there and, in 1979, to Austin to join the AP's Capitol staff. In 1988, he became Austin Bureau Chief for the Houston Post, a title he held until the paper folded in 1995. Herman then joined the American-Statesman as its Capitol Bureau Chief. From 2004-2009, he was the White House correspondent for Cox Newspapers.
During the course of the evening the panelists will also try to answer
What challenges do home-state reporters face when their governor seeks the White House?
How will Perry's campaign compare with George W. Bush's a decade ago?

Will national media rely on Texas journalists to help tell the story to the rest of the country?
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
5:45 pm Cocktails 6:15 pm Seating 7:00 pm Buffet Supper
Reservations Required for Members and Guests
$30.00 plus tax, gratuity, and cocktails.
R.S.V.P. 479.8080 or by email
Limited Attendance
All no shows will be charged unless cancelled 48 hours in advance.

*The Michele Kay Speaker Series memorializes the late Michele Kay; former business editor, Washington correspondent and columnist for the Austin American-Statesman... and a journalist of international stature. The series will support the presentation of fresh insights regarding the practice and experiences of professional journalism; its challenges and its value to our society.

‘You Look Great’ and Other Lies

This piece was pointed out by one of Michele's family members. I think that it is spot on. (Still having great difficulity with formatting and spacing with the blog.)

RKS

http://nyti.ms/juwR7T

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/12/fashion/what-to-say-to-someone-whos-sick-this-life.html?_r=1&pagewanted=all

‘You Look Great’ and Other Lies

by BRUCE FEILER Published: June 10, 2011 NYT

Six Things You Should Never Say to a Friend (or Relative or Colleague) Who’s Sick. And Four Things You Can Always Say.

First, the Nevers.

1. WHAT CAN I DO TO HELP?

Most patients I know grow to hate this ubiquitous, if heartfelt question because it puts the burden back on them. As Doug Ulman, the chief executive of

Livestrong and a three-time cancer survivor, explained: “The patient is never going to tell you. They don’t want to feel vulnerable.” Instead, just do something for the patient. And the more mundane the better, because those are the tasks that add up. Want to be really helpful? Clean out my fridge, replace my light bulbs, unpot my dead plants, change my oil.

2. MY THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS ARE WITH YOU.
In my experience, some people think about you, which is nice. Others pray for you, which is equally comforting. But the majority of people who say they’re sending “thoughts and prayers” are just falling back on a mindless cliché. It’s time to retire this hackneyed expression to the final resting place of platitudes, alongside “I’m stepping down to spend more time with my family,” or “It’s not you, it’s me.”

3. DID YOU TRY THAT MANGO COLONIC I RECOMMENDED?

I was stunned by the number of friends and strangers alike who inundated me with tips for miracle tonics, Chinese herbs or Swedish visualization exercises. At times, my in-box was like a Grand Ole Opry lineup of 1940s Appalachian black-magic potions. “If you put tumeric under your fingernails, and pepper on your neck, and take a grapefruit shower, you’ll feel better. It cured my Uncle Louie.”

Even worse, the recommenders follow up!

Jennifer Goodman Linn, a former marketing executive who’s survived seven recurrences of a sarcoma and is compiling a book, “I Know You Mean Well, but ...,” was approached recently at a store. “You don’t know me, but you’re friends with my wife,” the man said, before asking Ms. Linn why she wasn’t wearing the kabbalah bracelet they bought her in Israel.

4. EVERYTHING WILL BE O.K.

Unsure what to say, many well-wishers fall back on chirpy feel-goodisms. But these banalities are more often designed to allay the fears of the caregiver than those of the patient. As one friend who recently had brain surgery complained: “I got a lot of ‘chin ups,’ ‘you’re going to get better.’ I kept thinking: You haven’t seen the scans. That’s not what the doctor is saying.” The simple truth is, unless you’re a medical professional, resist playing Nostradamus.

5. HOW ARE WE TODAY

Every adult patient I know complains about being infantilized. The writer Letty Cottin Pogrebin, who had breast cancer, is working on a book, “How to Be a Friend to a Friend Who’s Sick.” It includes a list of “no-no’s” that treat ailing grown-ups like children. When the adult patient has living parents, as I did, many mothers in particular fall back on old patterns, from overstepping their boundaries to making bologna sandwiches when the patient hasn’t eaten them since childhood. “Just because someone is dealing with a physical illness,” Mr. Ulman said, “doesn’t diminish their mental capacity.”

6. YOU LOOK GREAT.

Nice try, but patients can see right through this chestnut. We know we’re gaunt, our hair is falling out in clumps, our colostomy bag needs emptying. The only thing this hollow expression conveys is that you’re focusing on how we appear. “When people comment on my appearance,” Ms. Linn said, “it reminds me that I don’t look good.”
Next time you want to compliment a patient’s appearance, keep this in mind: Vanity is the only part of the human anatomy that is immune to cancer.

So what do patients like to hear? Here are four suggestions.

1. DON’T WRITE ME BACK.

All patients get overwhelmed with the burden of keeping everyone informed, coddled and feeling appreciated. Social networking, while offering some relief, often increases the expectation of round-the-clock updates.

To get around this problem, I appointed a “minister of information,” whose job it was to disseminate news, deflect queries and generally be polite when I didn’t have the energy or inclination to be. But you can do your part, too: If you do drop off a fruitcake or take the dog for a walk, insist the patient not write you a thank-you note. Chicken soup is not a wedding gift; it shouldn’t come with added stress.

2. I SHOULD BE GOING NOW.

You’ll never go wrong by uttering these five words while visiting someone who’s sick. As Ms. Pogrebin observes of such visits, don’t overstay your welcome. She recommends 20 minutes, even less if the patient is tired or in pain. And while you’re there, wash a few dishes or tidy up the room. And take out the trash when you leave.

3. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME GOSSIP?

One surefire tip: a slight change of topic goes a long way. Patients are often sick of talking about their illness. We have to do that with our doctors, nurses and insurance henchmen. By all means, follow the lead of the individual, but sometimes ignoring the elephant in the room is just the right medicine. Even someone recovering from surgery has an opinion about the starlet’s affair, the underdog in the playoffs or the big election around the corner.

4. I LOVE YOU.

When all else fails, simple, direct emotion is the most powerful gift you can give a loved one going through pain. It doesn’t need to be ornamented. It just needs to be real. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.” “I hate to see you suffer.” “You mean a lot to me.” The fact that so few of us do this makes it even more meaningful.

Not long ago, I reached out to my friend’s sister, Amy, who had endured three surgeries in the previous six months for a tumor in the thalamus. She was undergoing physical therapy and had just returned to work. What most annoyed her, I wondered?
“I liked having the family around,” she said, referring to her six siblings and their five spouses. “But I had a lot of issues with my room seeming like a party and my not being in a place where I could be down if I wanted.”

The most helpful tip she got? “People reminded me that I had a free ‘No’ clause whenever I needed it. Especially as someone who tends to please, that was helpful.”

So in the end, what would she say to someone like her sister who leaned over and asked for advice?

“Fully embrace the vulnerability of the situation,” she said. “I would never have gotten through it if I hadn’t allowed people in.”

That even included a new boyfriend, who became so intimately involved in her recovery that she allowed him access to her innermost self. The two became engaged in the I.C.U. and plan to marry next year.

Bruce Feiler’s memoir, “The Council of Dads: A Story of Family, Friendship and Learning How to Live,” has just been published in paperback.

MKDDS INAUGURAL EVENT

This is the first in a series that we have been working on for several months.

The Michele Kay

Distinguished Speakers Series

Inaugural Event

Featuring Peggy Fikac, Ken Herman, Evan Smith and Wayne Slater

"As presidential politics heat up,

how will the media in Texas

cover the race?"

Cocktails 5:45 pm

Program 6:15 pm

Dinner 7:00 pm

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

The Headliners Club

Joanna Hitchcock -- Open Forum

This posting has been delayed because I have found it to be very difficult to work on the blog.

This piece is from Joanna Hitchcock, a Brit, who recently retired as Director of the University of Texas Press. Joanna was a close friend. She gave the talk at an Open Forum meeting. Michele really enjoyed Open Forum. It was a ladies luncheon group with intellectual programs and a high power membership. After one meeting, Michele said that everyone else at her table had a building at the University named after them.

MICHELE KAY

December 2, 1944 – February 16, 2011

Michele Kay joined Open Forum in Fall 2007 and was diagnosed with cancer in March 2009. But in the short time she was with us she relished her membership and was already sufficiently engaged to chair the program committee in only her second year.

Many people have written and spoken aptly and movingly about Michele since she died in February after surviving an amazing two years with brain cancer. Some of you will have read obituaries and articles about her life, and I can’t do better than to pull snippets together from them and from her own writing, including the memoir she was dictating to her friend and former Statesman colleague Mary Ann Roser during her last year.



Micheline Trigachi was born in Cairo on December 2, 1944, to a French-speaking Jewish mother and a Roman Catholic father, who was British by virtue of being Maltese. Her early life appears to have been a happy one. But her world came apart when her family was deported to London after the Suez Crisis in 1956. Speaking only French and Arabic, Michele set about learning English with characteristic determination. A year later her father got a job in Hong Kong, and by the end of that year her English was fluent. I don’t think you’re going to agree with me if I say she and I spoke alike, but someone observed that she had “a vaguely British accent,” and she certainly knew how to pronounce water.


Michele has variously been described as “a five-foot-tall fireball,” “a tower of energy,” “diminutive only in size…with a no-nonsense intensity that couldn’t hide a soft heart underneath.” She “thought fast, wrote fast, and spoke very fast. She disliked distractions, could be brusque and refused to suffer fools.” Eternally curious, she was a high-energy workaholic, but also a loving wife, mother, and grandmother. “She had an infectious smile, an impish laugh, and piercing eyes.” She was a sympathetic listener, who cut to the core of a problem or issue immediately. And “she reinvented herself time and time again—her professional life, while grounded in journalism, included stints in politics, business and community involvement,” and finally academia.



Her 40-year career as a journalist began right out of school covering weddings for The Hong Kong Standard, a job which she described as a disaster since she wasn’t interested in the women’s page and couldn’t tell one piece of clothing fabric from another. She moved on to cover news for the South China Morning Post, to Saigon during the Vietnam War, to the Dallas/Fort Worth Business Journal and Texas Business Magazine, and then to the Austin American-Statesman, where she served successively in various capacities. Of Michele as journalist, the late congressman Jake Pickle wrote in a letter to her about her coverage of his time in Washington: “In all my terms as a congressman of the 10^th District, you were the best… You gave me no quarter…. And it was fun reporting to you because you told it honestly and forthrightly….you were great to work with. I always felt comfortable in talking to you. I always knew you got your facts straight and reported to our constituents a view point of honesty and fairness…you were the best newspaper writer anyone could hope for.”



After leaving the Statesman in 2002, Michele fulfilled her lifelong ambition of going to college by getting two degrees from St. Ed’s, before going on to teach journalism there. “I wasn’t really a teacher,” she wrote. “I was somebody with a passion for something who wanted to share it.” She stirred things up, creating a journalism minor and transforming the “really pretty bad” student newspaper into a professional publication. Father Brusatti, the Dean of the School of Humanities, described “her regular camping in my office with a list of demands—she never really called them demands, just very urgent requests and needs if we are going to succeed.” The students “loved the hustle and bustle of working with Michele Kay…. On hectic production days, we could often find Michele sprinting between each room yelling orders, answering multiple phones, and keeping us on task.”


Michele made friends easily. The same curiosity that made her a good journalist made her a great friend. She wanted to know everything about your life, but she was curious without being nosy. Her husband Robert Schultz described their first date in July 1997 as “the longest, most intense press interview I ever experienced…. I barely knew Michele before our first date, but as I was driving home afterwards, I asked myself ‘Is there any significant fact about me that this woman does not now know?’"


Michele and I first met at a dinner party at B.J. and Bob Fernea’s in the early nineties and followed up by getting together for lunch just before she moved to D.C. as Washington correspondent for the Statesman. When we reconnected, over 10 years later (I can’t remember how this came about, but I think she just picked up the phone one day) she’d been through several reincarnations. She’d met and married Robert Schultz and begun the happiest period of her life; she’d been involved in a political campaign, returned to the Statesman for 3 years, then gone to St. Ed’s, as I mentioned.


Michele and I soon discovered we were at roughly the same stages in our lives. Many of our vital concerns were similar, but there was also enough difference in our experiences to add spice and variety to our conversations. One of the many subjects on which we agreed was work: we enjoyed it far too much to want to “retire and not do anything.” “What would I do after I’d got everything in the house organized by 10 a.m.?” asked the super efficient Michele. When she did finally decide to retire in 2008, we talked about how much she was enjoying her leisure, spending time at home with Robert. She wanted to give herself some space before taking up any new projects. And always hospitable, she used this time to give parties, always for other people and causes, and invariably—in Tracy Curtis’s phrase—“self-catered.” At our final lunch before her diagnosis, she talked about how she was beginning to think about re-engaging in community projects and what she might like to do. Sadly, she never had the chance to go further, as fighting cancer took almost all her energy over the next two years.


One of the subjects Michele and I agreed on was the value we placed on becoming U.S. citizens. We were naturalized two years apart in the late nineties, and having at last gotten the vote, neither of us ever missed a chance to use it. But whereas I was simply a two-timer and felt as though I belonged, partially at least, both here and in England, Michele felt she did not belong anywhere for most of her life, having lived all over the world--in Egypt, London, Hong Kong, Saigon, San Francisco, Paris, Tel Aviv, New York, and Dallas--and it wasn’t until she made her last move to Austin that she finally felt settled.


And we also shared grief. Michele’s mother died in March 2005, mine two years later. Her mother was smart and fashionable, like mine; but unlike mine, she did not believe in education for women. Our mothers were both difficult in their different ways, but as Michele put it so well—and she could have spoken for both of us: “in the end, I could only think…how much I loved her and how much I would miss her.”

Whatever one asked of Michele, she was quick to say yes, almost before one had finished the request, whether it was to accompany me to an obligatory UT dinner, to co-host a party, or, ironically, to act as executor for my will.



The Open Forum meeting in November was the last time I had a real conversation with Michele. She was feeling a little better that day and she enjoyed it. On the way home in the car, she mentioned that she was meeting that afternoon with her minister friend to arrange her funeral. She said she hoped we’d have some time together after I retired; that was not to be. But she also expressed the hope that she would not be forgotten, and that’s one wish of hers that those of us who were fortunate enough to have known her can be sure to fulfill.

　

Some Words to Help Us Rember

Memorial Service for Michele Kay
Queen of Peace Chapel at St. Edward’s University
April 2, 2011

Some Words to Help Us Remember
Louis T. Brusatti

We gather today to remember:

The five-foot-tall fireball who hitchhiked across India and Europe as a teenager…

The woman with the forty year journalism career that took her to all parts of the world…

Her no-nonsense intensity and never-ending curiosity that made her a formidable and dependable journalist…

Her war correspondent mentality emerging from her time in Vietnam…

The woman who continued to re-invent herself time and time again—be it journalism, politics, student and ultimately professor.

She spent her life on the mountain, bringing rich food and choice wine to the New Jerusalem.

We Remember:

Her time at St. Edward’s University—as an undergraduate and then graduate student and finally a professor…

Her work with the Hilltop Views—moving it from Student Life into the School of Humanities, from a rather amateurish to a professional publication…

Her commitment to the creation of a journalism minor and a true teaching laboratory for Hilltop Views…

Her regular camping in my office with a list of demands—she never really called them demands, just very urgent requests and needs if we are going to succeed…

Her intensity in the face of conflict with any of us…

Her genuine interest in her students


We remember:

That infectious smile and impish laugh—who could ever forget them? Those piercing eyes shooting forth questions and making comments.

That her home was open to all. There was a place for everyone at her table—there is that wonderful picture of her “stirring the pot” at a dinner she prepared for her students.

That her life was filled with love—Robert, her two children and five grandchildren. There was such excitement in her voice when she talked of the grandkids.

That her life was filled with good friends and admiring colleagues… The last time we had lunch we went to The Tree House—it’s quiet—with some colleagues from St. Edward’s and the Writers’ League. The conversation was animated and filled with stories and life.

That her cancer would not take over her life. She continued to live as determined and independent for as long as she could.

A dedicated journalist,
a woman of passion and deep belief,
an inspiring teacher and mentor,
a determined colleague, and loving friend,
a loving wife and mother and grandmother.

Michele was about calling forth the best in each of us with a drive and focus.

In a few moments we will hear from others in her life who will help us continue our process of memory.

Philip Jones Remarks

Philip Jones -- Michele Kay Eulogy


Writing for Michele was a daunting task. When you respect someone it's hard to submit your work to their judgment. But that paled in comparison to the responsibility that comes from writing about her – and trying to justice to such an inspiring person.
When I was graduating from St. Ed's, Michele invited me to coffee to talk about my plans for the future. To be honest, it wasn't so much an invitation as much an order.
I didn't really want to face her with my lack of a plan, as it was scary enough to admit to myself I did not know what was coming next. But even though she had gone from being this intimidating newspaper woman with an amazing life story to a dear friend who had shown genuine compassion, I still didn't want to run the risk of disappointing her.
But I knew better than to try to lie about what I thought I might do. We all know she could see right through deception.
In that conversation, she told me something that will always stick with me: "When you're trying to decide what to do with your life, decide on whatever will make it more interesting." That advice could have been easy to dismiss coming from anyone else. But Michele had lived that way, and that made her words impossible to ignore.
A lot of students here today got that same debrief because she cared enough to be invested in our lives inside and outside of the classroom.
As students we had a very different background and experienced much less than her. But she still saw so many of us as friends. Speaking for myself, I can't tell you how much that meant.
When I've talked to people who knew her for decades, through her work in journalism or politics, it strikes me that they all describe her like I would. We all knew the exact same Michele. She didn't show a different face to different people. I don't think she was capable of the masks that so many of us can wear depending on who we are with.
She was so earnest and filled with conviction to make clear how she truly felt. As her friends, we were lucky to have someone like that in our corner: someone who would tell us how it really is.
And the irony of it all is that when I first met her, I thought she was so intimidating; a sheer force of nature. But even with all that will, energy and unrelenting inquisitiveness, you didn't have to talk to her long to realize that kindness and generosity went to her very core.
She helped some students enter journalism who had never considered it as a career before meeting her. She inspired others to pursue their dreams in other parts of the world. Whatever we were aiming for, I think we were more likely to give up on ourselves than Michele was to let us.
As her students, we could not have asked for a better mentor to help us find our voice. Those of us who got to know her better, were even more blessed to count her as a friend.
I miss Michele deeply. But she always taught us not to bury the lede. The real story here is how blessed we were to have been touched by such an amazing life.

Jena Heath Remarks

Hello, I'm Jena Heath, the person who had the unenviable challenge of following in Michele's very large shoes as faculty adviser to Hilltop Views and coordinator of the university's journalism program.
Back then, in the fall of 2008, I seemed unable to turn a corner without meeting someone who looked at me pitifully before telling me all about the transformation of Hilltop Views under Michele's guidance. The feel-good newsletter became a vibrant, thoroughly reported and well- written campus newspaper thanks to my petite friend's very large ambitions for her students and her unerring faith in what they could accomplish.
Needless to say, I was thrilled about starting this new chapter in my life after 17 years as a newspaper reporter and editor. I was also daunted.
The one person who encouraged me most during those early days was Michele herself. We met in her office at home, where she shared her syllabi, her grading philosophy, her insights about her colleagues (positive, but unvarnished, as I'm sure you can all imagine) and lots of very keen advice about the transition from the newsroom to the classroom. Most of all, she shared the absolute joy she took in getting to know her students.
And know them she did. She told me not just about one editor's design talent, but about her outsized loved of cats, her extreme shyness and the potential Michele saw in this serious young woman, both professionally and personally. Michele made it her business to help bring that potential forth and, just as important, to help her young friend have some fun.
She told me about the romances on the Hilltop Views staff. No new couple was subtle enough to elude her hawk eye and though she tried to stay more or less neutral, she couldn't help musing about whether or not they were a good match and wondering about what the future held for them.
She knew all about her editors' families, their academic challenges and triumphs, their hopes and their disappointments. She loved them and they loved her in return.
In one of the many tributes to Michele published since her death, I read this quote:
"I wasn't really a teacher," Michele said of her love of interacting with the students. "I was somebody with a passion for something who wanted to share it with them."
In this, I will beg to differ with my dear friend. She was the epitome of what a teacher should be. I know because I learned so much from her. When we first met, in the summer of 1999, I had joined the Austin American-Statesman as its Washington correspondent. I spent my first two weeks in Austin trying to meet everyone I could. Everyone I encountered, from reporters, to public officials to lobbyists, said there was one person I couldn't leave Texas without knowing – her name was Michele Kay.
So, I called her. She invited me over to the Greystone house, where she and Robert, who were still newlyweds, lived then. She sat me down at a table in the back yard, got me a Perrier and disappeared. When she came back, she handed me a large box. Inside were more rolodex cards than I'd ever seen. It was Michele's source list – a who's who of powerbrokers and notables. She then ordered me to take notes while she explained how Texas worked.
That was my first lesson from Michele. There were many others. Over the years, over more dinners and glasses of wine than I can count, she taught me to, among other things, cook a roast, correctly baste a Thanksgiving turkey, shop for clothes at lightning speed (a visit to Ann Taylor with Michele was always a dizzying sprint) and, most important, not to sweat the small stuff when it comes to being a mom. She taught me to see the humor and pathos in people's mistakes and foibles – and in my own. She took great delight in gossip, but never in a malicious way. Indeed, her enormous interest in others, her curiosity about people and embrace of their differences, helped me, I hope, to become more patient and accepting, to see that we all make mistakes and that the vast majority of these mistakes should be forgiven.
In the final weeks of her life, Michele taught me her greatest lesson. I was fortunate to be able to help Robert during the week. Together, we spent many quiet mornings rousing Michele, helping her with breakfast and, often, sitting by the fireplace and just relaxing. I watched the friend who had so tenaciously fought to hold on to her amazing life slowly decide – and I believe it was her decision – to let it go. In those weeks, though she stopped expressing herself verbally, Michele's eyes said it all. She was at peace.
Michele told me more than once that what she feared most was being forgotten. She wanted to know that she had left a legacy. I assured her that she had – and that we would never forget her.
Today, it is my great honor to announce the creation of the Michele Kay Outstanding Student Journalist Award, which will be given this year at Honor's Night to a graduating senior who has minored in journalism, worked consistently for Hilltop Views and intends to pursue a career in the field. Along with the Michele Kay Outstanding Portfolio Award, I know that these honors will underline, each year, this remarkable woman's contributions to our university and to the profession she loved so much.
Thank you.

Hiltop Views on Memorial Service

Published in the Hilltop Views 06 Apr 2011

Memorial service remembers former professor, student
By Anna Whitney

Friends, colleagues and former students gathered April 2 at Our Lady Queen of Peace Chapel at St. Edward's University to remember former St. Edward's student and professor Michele Kay.
Kay, a journalist who first came to St. Edward's as a New College student, died at her home the morning of Feb. 16. She was 66.
Fr. Lou Brusatti, dean of the School of Humanities, delivered the opening prayer and was the first to eulogize Kay.
"We remember a five-foot tall fireball who hitchhiked across India as a teenager," Brusatti said. "She was a woman who continually reinvented herself."
From being a journalist, to a student, to eventually becoming a professor at St. Edward's, Kay did constantly reinvent herself.
Kay spent 40 years as a writer, journalist and public relations official before coming to St. Edward's to earn her bachelor's and master's degrees. Kay was a journalism professor and faculty advisor to Hilltop Views from 2005 to 2008. She also helped create the journalism minor at St. Edward's.
Friend and colleague Professor Catherine Rainwater described how Kay and her family were expelled from Egypt when Kay was 12. She also talked about her friendship with Kay that began in 2008.
Rainwater remembered Kay for her love of travel and her compassion, humor and wit.
"A reporter, she never missed a beat," Rainwater said.
Former St. Edward's student and former editor-in-chief of Hilltop Views Phil Jones described Kay as helpful inside and outside of the classroom. He described Kay as "a sheer force of nature" who cared intensely for students.
"You didn't have to talk to her very long to know kindness and generosity went to her core," Jones said.
Friend, colleague, and current faculty adviser to Hilltop Views Jena Heath spoke about her friendship with Kay, which began shortly after Heath was hired to be the Austin American-Statesman's Washington correspondent.
Heath visited Austin for two weeks in 1999 to make contacts and meet people as she began working for the American-Statesman. Heath had asked around to find the most knowledgeable people to speak to, and Kay, also a journalist for the American-Statesman at the time, had been highly recommended.
"Everybody said I should meet Michele. That was the beginning of our friendship," Heath said in an interview.
Heath said that during their meeting, Kay ordered Heath to take notes while she explained how Texas government worked.
"She was the epitome of what a teacher should be," Heath said.
At the memorial service, Heath announced the creation of a new scholarship and the re-naming of a previously existing scholarship in honor of Kay.
The Michele Kay Outstanding Student Journalist Award was created this year and will be funded from the Hilltop Views budget. It is a $300 award for a graduating senior who is a journalism minor, has worked at least three semesters at Hilltop Views and who intends to pursue a career in journalism. It will be awarded for the first time at Honors Night on May 2.
Heath said that Kay and her husband, Robert Schultz, endowed the Michele Kay Outstanding Portfolio Award in 2005, "with a very generous gift to St. Edward's." The award was recently re-named in honor of Kay.
"What she feared most was being forgotten. She wanted to know that she had left a legacy. I assured her that she had, and that we would never forget her," Heath said. "We know these awards will keep Michele's memory alive."
After the memorial service, many headed to the Doyle Hall Courtyard for a reception, where friends shared stories about Kay's intellect, honesty and kindness.
Professor of American Studies for New College Paula Marks remembered being Kay's teacher.
"She was always a delightful student that brought that intense curiosity," Marks said. "She had a very incisive mind and a fascinating history."
Kathy Warbelow, business editor for the American Statesman, spoke about being Kay's boss when Kay was a business columnist for the newspaper.
"Michele used to work for me, which means she taught me a lot. To be her editor, you'd learn," Warbelow said. "She had a powerful intellect."

St Ed' Service Intro

St Edward’s University Memorial Service 02 April 2011

My apologies for taking so long to post the texts from the 02 April St Ed’s memorial service. All of the participants promptly sent me their notes, but I have experienced great emotional difficulty in posting them.
The service was conducted by Fr. Louis T. Brusatti, Dean of the School of Humanities, who was Michele’s dean when she worked at St Ed’s. Lou used the songs and readings Michele selected last year. All of the speakers were St Ed’s friends.

I have been quite surprised at how difficult the grieving process has been. I had thought that with two years to prepare and having worked out every possible detail in advance that everything would progress like a well-planned engineering project. I did not take into account the incapacitating impacts of grief and depression.

RKS

Catherine Rainwater Eulogy

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Catherine Rainwater Eulogy

St Ed's Service 02 Apr 11

The following beautiful piece is from Catherine Rainwater, as presented at the St Edward's University memorial service held on Saturday, 02 April 2011.

Catherine was one of Michele's dearest friends from the University. Catherine is editing Michele's book on displacement.

Catherine Rainwater

Eulogy for Michele Kay

(December 2, 1944 - February 16, 2011)

April 2, 2011

St. Edward's University, Our Lady Queen of Peace Chapel

Many years ago, I learned by negative example that a long road trip in a Volkswagen could provide a pretty accurate measure of a friendship. I value each and every friendship that I'm lucky enough to maintain, but the ugly truth is that some of them wouldn't bear up under the stress of travel in a Volkswagen farther than three or four hundred miles, even under ideal road conditions. I learned through that same negative example to gauge accurately a companion's travel mileage capacities, and to avoid getting into a car with a person not likely to hold up past the county line.

I never took a long road trip with Michele in a Volkswagen, but I know in fact she was an Austin-to-Boston sort of friend. She was thoughtful and considerate, a great conversationalist, a person who listened and remembered, a friend with no end of her own fascinating stories to tell, but who always wanted to hear mine. When Michele asked a question, she was genuinely interested in the answer. I never heard her talk simply because there was open air space. She was always on the trail of a point, or ferreting out some deeper understanding. During her long illness, as the verbal skills she valued failed her, I could still see clearly in her large, expressive eyes an enduring curiosity and capacity for listening.

Though I no longer have a Volkswagen, I did enjoy a few short road trips with Michele throughout the too few years we knew each other. One I remember fondly occurred in October of 2008. My mother had passed away a few weeks earlier, and now I had to return to the old cemetery in Brady, Texas, where she is buried alongside family and old friends, to see that her headstone had been set correctly. Perhaps because Michele had buried her own mother not long before, she insisted that I shouldn't carry out my melancholy chore alone. She enjoyed car trips, and volunteered to ride along with me. Gladly, I accepted, for Michele's company was a gift at any time. We decided to make a day of it, not to rush, and to find a place to eat lunch in Brady.

Around 10 a.m., we set out for the cowboy town my mother loved that calls itself the Heart of Texas. Along the way, we talked about our mothers, born in the same year, who seemed to share some things in common, perhaps generational, despite their distant, different origins—her mother from the sandy Plains of Giza, now buried in a Jewish cemetery in London; my mother from the rolling plains of central Texas, now buried less than a mile from where she first drew breath.

As we drove past fields of cows and goats and horses that define the open Texas Hill Country, Michele said, "I thought I was okay when my mother died, but I really wasn't." I felt acquainted with Michele's mother, though I never met her, based on autobiographical essays Michele had written and I had read. I could easily picture Paulette who, like my own mother, had a flair for fashion and a variety of old-fashioned convictions. Michele's compassionate nature showed in her regard for her mother. Before Paulette died, Michele called her every day in London and visited her at least twice a year. Even though our mothers were both way past 90 when they died, we missed them, and we were their children still. We laughed and called ourselves some old, pathetic orphans.

Along the way to Brady, we stopped for the necessities—that is to say, to buy club soda. At the windswept, lonesome cemetery, all was well. Michele wandered among marble angels while I arranged a few Gerbera daisies near my mother's freshly cemented marker. I wondered what my friend was thinking in this resting place of several generations of my family. I knew that her own family's exile from Egypt, when Michele was 12, was only the first experience in her life that led her to feel she was a stranger, without a country, without a home, without even a native language to anchor her in place and time.

Michele said, not long before she passed away,

"I always believed when I died I would be buried in England. But my mother is buried in a Jewish cemetery, and my father's ashes are in a non-religious cemetery. For the first time since my parents met, they couldn’t find a way to be together. It wouldn’t make sense for me to be buried over there. I feel, now, here is where I will be buried. I love this house. I would like to be buried in the back yard."

It made me happy to know that after moving to Austin and eventually marrying Robert, Michele at last had found the place where she belonged.

As we left the cemetery, the sun shone down on my mother's black, granite marker. In the glossy, reflective surface, I saw the sky, mirrored as it will be there for all my own remaining days, and beyond. I'll never forget, and I'll always be glad it was Michele who accompanied me that autumn day, before the grass had had a chance to grow across my mother's grave.

Next we were off to lunch at Mac's Barbecue on Highway 87. There I was amused by the girl from Cairo who, as an adolescent, had adopted English as her native language. Her comprehension of the English dialect, central Texan, was complete. I just wish now that I'd asked her to try to speak it. Among camouflage-clad October hunters, we ate barbecued chicken and were amused by the ambient conversation.

"I'm'na drive on over't S'nangelo an' gitt 'at trailer t' put down by the creek," said one. "Ep," said his buddy. "Musquituhs dang near drove me crazy out 'air at that creek las' time I went fishin'. Kep flyin' in m'ize all mornin'."

"Gitcha piece-a pie?" a passing waitress asked.

"Oh, no thank you," said Michele, glancing down at the untouched three-quarters of the one-quarter chicken she had ordered. "I'm quite full."

The crack reporter never missed a beat. Here among us all in Texas, she was, most certainly, at home.

　

　

St Ed's Service

http://www.hilltopviewsonline.com/news/michele-kay-s-on-campus-memorial-service-announced-1.2085191

Michele Kay's on-campus memorial service announced .

Michele Kay's on-campus memorial service announced.

By Tristan Hallman
Updated Wednesday, March 9, 2011 17:03

St. Edward's University will host a memorial service for former student and professor Michele Kay on Saturday, April 2 at 11 a.m. in the Our Lady Queen of Peace Chapel.

There will be a reception following the service.

Kay died at her home the morning of Feb. 16 after a lengthy battle with brain cancer. She was 66. Her funeral was held the following weekend.

From 2005 to 2008, Kay was a journalism professor and faculty advisor to Hilltop Views at St. Edward's University. She spent 40 years as a writer, journalist and public relations official before coming to St. Edward's to earn her bachelor's and master's degrees.

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02 April Memorial Service

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A memorial service for Michele will be held

at

11:00 am

on

Saturday 02 April 2011

at the

Chapel at St. Edward's University

(at University Circle and St Joesph

across from Trustee Hall)

3001 South Congress Avenue

Austin 78704

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St Ed's Services

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We are working on putting together a memorial service at St Edward's University. Most likely date will be Saturday, 02 April.

RKS

Bruce Todd's Notes from 19 Feb

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As a bit of a preface to Bruce's comments, the longest, most intense press interview I ever experienced was my first date with Michele, 10 July 1997. I barely knew Michele before our first date, but as I was driving home afterwards, I asked myself "Is there any significant fact about me that this woman does not now know?"

RKS

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Good morning. I’m Bruce Todd, and I was proud to call Michele a friend.

While everyone here wishes there was no need for an obituary, I was delighted to read the pieces in the paper written by Peggy Fikac, Mary Ann Roser and Chuck Lindell. It’s fitting that Michele’s passing was noted in such beautifully written pieces.

As to Michele’s comment that she wished the autobiography she was writing wasn’t “all about her,” my comments today WILL be “all about her.” Sorry, Michele.

It is hard in a brief time to sum up the attributes and characteristics of a person. Do I talk about her world experience, her life as a reporter, her teaching career, or all of the above? Since time is limited, that would be tough, especially for someone like Michele Kay.

So I will talk about one characteristic that epitomizes all these experiences. That would be the look in her eyes.

Michele’s eyes had three classic looks. One was when she was in her interviewer mode, and her eyes bored into you, saying, “I already know the answer to the question I just asked, so get it right, buster.” Bill Miller characterized this as her “no BS, please” look.

In this mode, she could be very direct in her evaluation of one’s answers. Michele once called to interview me about a fairly technical topic. After the interview was concluded, I asked if my replies had been of help to her story. She told me that I HAD helped make her story factually correct but that my answers had done nothing to make it less boring!

The next look was one of friendship, which is the one I saw far more often. I think you all can picture it. Her big brown eyes would start darting just a bit, and her whole face would animate—nose sort of twitching, mouth resisting a grin.

When I was still in office as mayor, I had a chance to visit Washington numerous times, and I always made it a point to get together with Michele and get caught up.

I went over to her apartment in D.C. one day after an ice storm had hit the city. Michele’s car was parked on the street, frozen over and unmovable. Without much of a greeting, she handed me a tire iron and basically told me to get busy. Although I was dressed in a business suit and an Austin-weight overcoat, I was not about to say no, so I took her tire iron and broke off enough ice from the wheels so that the car would move. She “supervised” the chore with that look on her face and a running stream of directions.

And the third look became magnified after she met Robert. That’s when she found the love she richly deserved and a real sparkle came into her eyes. She was so happy with their life together. Elizabeth and I lived right around the corner from Robert and Michele for several years after they got married, and I always enjoyed driving by their pretty house, seeing her white Mercedes, and thinking about their wonderful marriage.

Parenthetically, I will say that I tried to avoid their driveway when Michele was backing the Mercedes out. You could never even be sure that a human being was in the car behind the wheel—since her head barely cleared the dashboard—It always seemed prudent to me to give her a wide berth!

I’m not saying that her eyes didn’t occasionally revert to the “I know the answer look” after they got married. But with Michele, the sparkle would always come back.

Robert, you and her beloved children and grandchildren were the sparkle in her eyes. I’m grateful to you for the care you took of her during these last two years, but more than that, all of her friends are extraordinarily thankful that you brought love, laughter and support to a woman whose memory we will treasure for the rest of our lives.

Bruce Hight's speaking notes

Eulogy for Michele Kay, Feb. 19, 2011
Good Shepherd Episcopal Church, Austin, Texas
Bruce Hight

Email intro . . .

On Nov. 9 I received the following email, addressed to me and Bruce Todd, which I quote in its entirety:

“Bruce and Bruce –

Michele is busy planning her funeral this week.
She is wondering if you two would like to speak at it.
What do you think?"

Signed, “Robert”

I will treasure that email for the rest of my life.

It is so Michele – asking a question: but you know how you are supposed to answer;

And so unflinching in the face of her fate . . .

And it is so Robert – that so direct question: What do you think?

So of course I said yes. But getting through this will be difficult.

Michele’s family – Robert, her children Warren and Deborah, her grandchildren and her extended family – have suffered the greatest loss.

But like all of you here today, I have lost one of my best, dearest friends.

Like you, I have relished all of the stories about Michele.

Still, underneath the good humor and the company she so enjoyed, there’s an enormous well of sadness.

Speaking today is not made easier by the fact that Chuck Lindell wrote a fine obituary about Michele for the American-Statesman’s news pages.

Peggy Fikac and Mary Ann Roser did the same for the family’s own obituary.

And so did the journalism students at St. Edwards University, in the student newspaper, the Hilltop Views.

Each of them, in different ways, captured the astonishing sweep, the grandeur of Michele’s remarkable life.

Born in Cairo, grew up in Hong Kong, went to Saigon – a war zone! – in the 1960s to get a job and so much more! And she ends up in – Austin Texas?

How lucky we are that she did.

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Journalism . . .

Michele and I were colleagues for a number of years at the Austin American-Statesman. And later, as she was building the journalism program at St. Edward’s University, she asked me to teach a class one semester on editorial writing.

I could not say no to Michele and I taught the course with her considerable help.

As you can see, she had one more assignment for me before she left, and I think she would want me to talk a bit about being journalist – which was so important to her.

Journalists have argued for at least 100 years whether ours was a craft or a profession.

Either way, it is -- at its best -- an obligation, a duty:

To try to get at the truth of a thing. To throw light on the government or business or academia – even sports, or society.

To get it right. To be fair – but also not to be intimidated or fooled or seduced by flattery, or laziness.

Now, Michele could laugh at herself, her eccentricities, her A-type personality, that machine-gun way of talking she had – not so much talking, but strafing bursts of words at whoever or whatever came into earshot or eyesight. Like most journalists, she was something of a gossip. And truth is, journalism can be a lot of fun.

Those who worked at the Statesman know the Feliz Navidad story. But you’ll have to go to the reception today to hear that one.

But when it came to her duty as a journalist, she was fierce – dead serious. She would not be denied.

For Michele, there was always one more call she wanted to make for a story. One more source to check out. Another fact to double-check.

She was determined to know the whole story, not just what people wanted her to know. And she expected the same of those who worked with her.

Michele agonized over mistakes, however trivial.

Michele practiced her craft adhering to the highest professional standards of her chosen field.

She set those same high standards for her students and faculty at St. Edwards.

She did her duty. And now her duty is done.

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Friendship . . .

I want to touch on one other thing about Michele: Her great gift for giving and receiving friendship.

The range of those friendships could be astonishing, and as large as the crowd is here today, it is only a part of her extensive network of friends, contacts, sources and others, all of whom would pick up the phone when she called.

Of course, some took the call because they feared what would happen if they did not . . .

One reason why Michele was such a good journalist was that she had so much curiosity – and that curiosity made her such a great friend.

The pews here today are stuffed with her best friends.

When she asked you how you were doing, it was not a rhetorical question.

She really did want to know how your kids were doing, how your job was going, where you had visited, what interesting books you had read or classes you had taken.

Michele could be disarmingly frank, sometimes, about her own problems and troubles. And she could be surprisingly direct in asking others about theirs – but then, good journalists can be that way.

If Michele was your friend, you had a friend you could trust completely, and know that if you needed her, she would be there.

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Robert . . .

Her best friendship, of course, was with her husband, Robert.

They did not have enough years together, but the years they did have -- they lived to the very top.

Over the last two years, all of us who valued Michele as a friend -- however much we loved her and however often we visited her -- could still go home and away from her suffering.

Not Robert. He was there -- every day – taking care of her all day, in that very practical, just-the-facts-ma’am, engineer’s way of his.

He was spared very little as the woman he loved and married struggled with her disease.

Robert, I think I can claim safely to speak on behalf of Michele’s legion of friends when I say thank you – thank you so much -- for taking such good care of her.

To the very end, Robert was faithful to his vow to love her in sickness and health:

To a degree we pray that will never be required of ourselves. Robert, we are awed by your example, and grateful for it.

And all of here are proud and privileged to call Robert and Michele our friends.



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Kenneth and Heidi Schultz Posting

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From Kenneth & Heidi's Blog

Thursday, February 17, 2011

A Lovely Life Remembered

In 1999, Ken’s dad, Robert, married Michele Kay who, despite her petite stature, proved anything but small in character. A vibrant, full of life, go-getter, Michele added so much to the countless lives she touched. In fact, little did we know at the time of their marriage what a wonderful addition she would become to the Schultz clan. Looking back, though, we can easily see the numerous ways she enriched our lives. Sadly, after 2 hard fought years against brain cancer, Michele passed away yesterday at home in Austin.

One of the most special points in my relationship with Michele came when she asked if I would like to read her thesis on displaced persons based on her personal memoirs which she hoped to one day make into a book. Understanding how personal this was to her, I counted myself honored that she would even ask. Filled with details of her life beginning in Egypt and then taking her around the globe, I found her story mesmerizing, and I couldn’t devour it quickly enough. Despite many hurdles at different points in her life, she embraced all of the experiences, places and people crossing her path. She loved new challenges and opportunities, and clearly inspired those lucky enough to know her along the way.

I will forever cherish the last night spent with Michele in Austin back in July. While Ken and Robert ran a few errands, Michele and I shared an amazing couple of hours of conversation related to everything from her struggles and setbacks with the cancer to her love and appreciation for Robert, the spiritual aspects of death and afterlife, and just the little joys found in day to day living. As she hugged me goodbye the next morning and whispered in my ear that she loved me, I felt a bit of sadness knowing that I might never see her again but also a huge sense of gratitude for the opportunity to know such a thoughtful and remarkable woman.

Michele, thank you for allowing us to be a part of your life, for your inspiration, and most importantly, for the love you brought to our family. We will miss you.
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Legacy.com Postings

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From the Guest Book at Legacy.com

http://www.legacy.com/guestbook/statesman/guestbook.aspx?n=michele-kay&pid=148672369&page=2

February 20, 2011

Thank you Michele for touching my life as you did. You will always be in my heart.

Mae Stoll,

Austin, Texas

February 19, 2011

We loved Michele and we love her family. The rest, you know. Always, Jena, Clay, Caroline and Adrian

Jena Heath,

Austin, Texas

February 18, 2011

To Robert and family, you have my deepest sympathy. Michele managed to embody a unique mélange of qualities: chutzpah, tenacity, candor, insatiable curiosity, hospitality and tenderness. I am honored to have dined at her table and to have called her friend and adviser. The world mourns the loss of a woman who composed a life of full-out living.

Maria Henson,

Winston-Salem, North Carolina

February 17, 2011

God Bless Michele and her loved ones. She is truly one of a kind.

Karen Trikilis,

Austin, Texas

February 17, 2011

The staff of Tarrytown Dental wishes to Robert and family, our deepest condolences to you. She was much admired and respected by us all. She will be deeply missed!

Tarrytown Dental,

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

I thought the world of Michele. One of the most interesting women I've ever known, she was razor sharp, funny, insightful, well-read, well-traveled, a great friend and a great journalist. She was one-of-a-kind and will be deeply missed. My love and prayers to Robert and the rest of her family in this time of loss. She's in heaven now really grilling God about some of the finer details of creation. Godspeed, Michele.

Joe Stafford,

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

Condolences to the Austin-American Statesman family and Michele's family. Michele was top-notch all the way. I admired and respected her.

Stephanie Jones,

Jackson, Mississippi

February 16, 2011

My thoughts and prayers go out to the family. Michele was a true friend for over 25 years and we all will miss her. She was one of the most capable journalist I have ever known and a professional at all times. We will always remember her devotion to her children and grandchildren. We are indeed fortunate to have shared time with Michele .

James Huffines

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

My deepest condolences to Michele's family. Her insightful analysis and international world view made her an asset when we were colleagues on the Statesman Editorial Board. Her wicked sense of humor made our time together even more memorable. She will be missed.

Roxanne Evans,

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

My condolences to Michele's family. Michele always had a smile and kind words for her coworkers at the newspaper. I worked in a different dept, but always enjoyed talking to her and we shared the same first name and spelling (Michele with one l).

Michele Cook,

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

We will always remember the love and joy that Michele brought to us. We will miss the wonderful conversations that we shared with you and Robert. Peace be with you.

Scott & Ginger McGuire,

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

I haven't seen Michele in some years, but I always enjoyed being in her orbit. Although we were on opposite sides of the political divide, she was such a whirlwind of words and ideas....she brought out the "A" game in others, for which we're all grateful. My condolences to her family and friends.

Jackson Williams,

Austin, Texas

February 16, 2011

Michele, you brought energy and a sense of humor to everything you did. Your keen eye for understanding and communicating the big picture benefited all who spent time with you and your writing. You will be missed.

Ben Bentzin

　

　

　

　

　

　

Austin-American Statesman

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http://www.statesman.com/news/local/michele-kay-journalist-and-professor-dies-1258651.html

http://www.statesman.com/news/local/michele-kay-journalist-and-professor-dies-1258651.html?sms_ss=email&at_xt=4d5ca9b299e7a14b%2C0

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Michele Kay, journalist and professor, dies

Her four-decade career in journalism included stints at the Austin American-Statesman.

By Chuck Lindell

Sign the guest book for Michele Kay At legacy.com　

Updated: 2:38 p.m. Wednesday, Feb. 16, 2011

Diminutive only in size, Michele Kay was an international journalist who settled into Austin and the pages of this newspaper with a no-nonsense intensity that couldn't hide a soft heart underneath.

Kay — who died Wednesday morning, almost two years after being diagnosed with a brain tumor — cut a wide path through Austin as the American-Statesman's business editor from 1988-91, followed by stints as an editorial writer, Washington correspondent, state Capitol reporter and business columnist.

Never afraid to reinvent herself, Kay, 66, also dipped a toe into politics, earned the college degrees she always craved and found fulfillment as a journalism professor.

"She was a good reporter — tough as nails, without fear or favor," said Austin political consultant Bill Miller, who met Kay when she was a Dallas business reporter in the 1980s. "She just didn't put up with BS. She played you straight; she demanded that you play her straight."

Kay thought fast, wrote fast and spoke very fast. She disliked distractions, could be brusque and refused to suffer fools.

She also made friends easily, shifting into a slower gear for the personal conversations she loved — filing away facts about birthdays, weddings, births and other life landmarks that she could recall years later.

"She knew so much more about the world than the average person on the street, or average reporter for that matter," said Bruce Todd, a former Austin mayor and longtime friend. "You always felt that her story, whether it was in your favor or against, was the correct story."

Lunch with Kay was a series of interruptions as friends, sources and public officials stopped by the restaurant table to say hello. Her list of contacts made Kay a formidable and dependable journalist, said Debra Davis, Kay's former editor and a longtime friend.

"She always knew what was going to happen before it was going to happen, and it was because she kept up with dozens, hundreds of people in town," said Davis, the Statesman's state editor. "It wasn't a calculated sort of thing. She was really interested in people's lives."

Kay was a 5-foot-tall fireball who hitchhiked across India and Europe as a teenager and, as a 17-year-old in 1962, embarked on a four-decade journalism career as a reporter for the Hong Kong Standard.

That same determination appeared again when the sudden onset of severe headaches revealed a left temporal lobe brain tumor in March 2009. Kay was in surgery a week later, followed by a trying course of radiation and chemotherapy. Additional surgeries followed.

Many days were good, others were not as Kay dealt with the fast-growing, aggressive cancer and the slow deterioration of her body.

The past few months of illness increasingly deprived Kay of the ability to talk, so she focused on her greatest joys: visits with friends and time with her husband, Robert Schultz, her two children and five grandchildren.

"She handled her illness like she handled her life — very determined, very independent," said Mary Ann Roser, a Statesman reporter and friend.

Kay died at home around 8 a.m. today, Roser said.

Kay was born in 1944 in Egypt to a French mother and Maltese father, but her family was abruptly exiled in 1956 while Egypt battled Britain, France and Israel over the Suez Canal. Parliament later made Kay a British subject in thanks for her father's work diverting classified diplomatic cables to London while he worked for a cable company in Cairo.

War played another influential role in Kay's life when she and then-husband Keith Kay moved to Saigon in 1967 in search of jobs. He became a prominent CBS cameraman, and Michele Kay worked for Pan American World Airways, helping U.S. servicemen on rest-and-relaxation travel during the Vietnam War.

"Her time in Vietnam left her with kind of a war-correspondent mentality," Miller said.

Kay was an "eternally curious," high-energy workaholic, said Carrie Rosenthal, whose friendship with Kay began in Hong Kong in 1970. Even then, Kay had a wide circle of friends and delighted in uniting strangers as something of a friendship matchmaker, a pattern she continued in Austin.

"She has really lived a very, very full life," Rosenthal said. "It was still way too early to go, but she lived life to the fullest. She didn't waste time."

After taking magazine jobs in Hong Kong and Paris, Kay arrived in Texas in 1981 to become editor of the Dallas/Fort Worth Business Journal and, later, the now-defunct Texas Business Magazine. She moved to Austin in 1988 and became a U.S. citizen in 1997.

Kay left the Statesman in the late 1990s for a brief turn at politics, working as press secretary for John Cornyn's successful campaign for Texas attorney general and for then-Comptroller Carole Keeton Strayhorn.

Kay returned to the Statesman as a reporter and business columnist, then departed in 2003 for a new challenge: a liberal arts master's degree from St. Edward's University, where she had earned a bachelor's degree a year earlier.

The degrees opened the door for Kay's final career as assistant journalism professor and school newspaper adviser at St. Edward's.

She was a tough but fair teacher, enthusiastic in the classroom and approachable outside of it, said Jeffrey Benzing, who took reporting and editing classes from Kay in 2006-07.

"If you needed something, she'd be right there, and she'd put in extra time and extra hours," Benzing said. "If you needed a recommendation or reference, she was always there before you could ask."

In her last business column in the Statesman, printed July 22, 2001, Kay reflected on the culture shock of moving from Paris to the "inhospitable heat and suburban sprawl of Dallas," only to be won over by this state's ever-present optimism, confidence and deep sense of community.

"If there is one thing Texas has taught me, it is this: Life is a series of opportunities that shape the future," she wrote. "If you recognize them and grab them, you can reshape your life."

Services will be 11 a.m. Saturday at Good Shepherd Episcopal Church, 3201 Windsor Road, with a reception to follow at noon.

clindell@statesman.com, 912-2569

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St Ed's Editorial Reprint

2008 Editorial: Newspaper mentor leaves lasting legacy

EDITORIAL

By

Published: Wednesday, February 16, 2011

EDITOR'S NOTE: The following is a staff editorial that was published on page 10 of the April 23, 2008, issue of Hilltop Views. The issue was Michele Kay's final issue as faculty adviser to Hilltop Views.

None of our readers have ever seen a byline for Michele Kay, our faculty advisor, in the Hilltop Views. Nevertheless, she has been our leader behind the scenes and a brilliant teacher every step of the way.

We asked Michele if she wanted to write a farewell message along with other members of our Hilltop Views family who are moving on. She didn't feel it would be appropriate, but we believe the guidance she has offered us during her time here warranted some recognition beyond heart-felt good byes and best wishes in the office.

For us staffers, a day never passed by in the newsroom without Michele gracing our presence. On hectic production days, we could often find Michele sprinting between each room yelling orders, answering multiple phones and keeping us on task. During calmer days, she was often found sitting on a desktop, carefully looking over stories while chewing the eraser off of a pencil.

One of the advantages of a small campus like St. Edward's University is the likelihood of getting to know one of your professors as a mentor and a friend. For staffers at the Hilltop Views, the bonus perks of working closely with Michele were the treasured evenings spent devouring her home-cooked food in her kitchen or trying to spot the Main Building through her husband's telescope. More than these memories, though, we will always remember how Michele helped mold all of us into responsible, credible and skilled journalists.

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Though our faculty advisors names appear only in the staff box of this newspaper, their real-world experience, passion for teaching and guiding hands are a huge part of the reason the paper makes it into your hands every week. Michele, though small, has left some huge shoes to be filled and we will miss her (and her food) dearly.

St Edwards University Editorial

Lives of Kay and Walsh leave inspiration

OUR VIEW

Updated: Tuesday, February 22, 2011 20:02

In the last two months, St. Edward's University has lost two giants.

The deaths of Br. Stephen Walsh, the former president of St. Edward's, and, most recently, former journalism professor Michele Kay have left huge voids in the St. Edward's community. Walsh was 69. Kay was 66. Both made the most of the years they had.

Without Kay, the newspaper that bears her obituary on the front page would not be what it is today. Without Walsh, the campus that allows Hilltop Views to exist would not be what it is today.

Most of us at Hilltop Views never had the pleasure of knowing Kay or Walsh, but both of them had a profound impact on our university.

Kay spent 40 years as a journalist before she came to St. Edward's to earn her bachelor's degree. A few years later, she had a master's degree and a teaching job at the university.

The paper was originally based out of Student Life's office as a student organization. The reviews were not positive.

As the faculty advisor, Kay turned Hilltop Views into a real newspaper. She brought the newspaper out of Student Life and into Andre Hall under the School of Humanities. She also won approval for a paid, rather than volunteer, staff. Hilltop Views publishes once a week instead of once every two weeks because of Kay. She gave just three years to teaching at St. Edward's—seemingly a mere footnote in a long, illustrious life—but her success at the university and strong, positive impact prove that she made every one of those years count.

Kay's students are almost all gone now. Not a single one of us had the chance to work with her on the Hilltop Views staff, but many of us worked with those who did. Through the examples that she set, her spirit is carried on. We can only hope that we continue to honor her drive, her commitment, her professionalism, her passion and her energy in our newsroom today.

Kay never stopped, never slowed, and never gave up. She was relentless to the very end in every aspect of her life. She truly was, as those who knew her said, "one of a kind."

In Kay and Walsh, we were given glimpses into what is possible in a life well-lived. We may not have known them personally, but we are lucky to walk the trails that they boldly blazed on this campus.

As we remember these two people who shaped our university, we should give pause and thanks. But we should always remember to move forward and help others, as Kay and Walsh did with such zeal.

From St Ed U

From St Edward’s University

http://www.stedwards.edu/market/newsmedia_center/news_center_archives/02_21_2011.html

In Memoriam: Michele Kay

Former St. Edward's University professor and student Michele Kay died Wednesday, the 16^th of February . She was 66. Described by some of her colleagues as "dynamite" and a "tower of energy," but most of all, "a professional," Kay spent 40 years as a writer, journalist and public relations official before coming to St. Edward's. During her three years as a professor, Kay helped create the journalism minor and served as the faculty adviser to Hilltop Views, which underwent significant changes during her tenure.

Kay was first diagnosed with brain cancer in March 2009. She underwent two operations and treatment before complications following a third surgery set in November 2010. She has been home, in the care of her family and Hospice Austin, during the past few weeks.

Kay was born in Cairo, Egypt, on Dec. 2, 1944. On her 12th birthday, after a year under house arrest, the family was expelled from Egypt. They were flown to England, stayed there for a year, and then went to the then-British territory of Hong Kong. This was in the midst of the Suez Crisis, a war fought by Great Britain, Israel and France against Egypt after Egypt attempted to nationalize the Suez Canal. Kay, a native French speaker, became fluent in English.

When she left high school, Kay began working at a newspaper, The Hong Kong Standard, where she soon became a hard news journalist. That role was unheard of for women, who, until then, were limited to covering "soft" subjects, such as fashion and weddings. Kay later worked for the South China Morning Post, the largest English-language newspaper in Hong Kong.

In 1965, Kay moved to the United States when her first husband, Keith Kay, was drafted into the U.S. Army and stationed in New Jersey. She became a speech writer for the Pakistan Mission to the United Nations during the Indo-Pakistan War. Kay also copy edited for several pharmaceutical journals during that time.

In 1967, Kay returned to Asia with her husband, who was a camera man and producer for CBS News. She did public relations work for Pan-American World Airways and organized rest and recreation trips for U.S. servicemen in Vietnam. At Pan-Am, she also supervised the shipment of remains back to the U.S.

The Kays returned to the United States and spent two years in San Francisco before moving back to Hong Kong in 1970. She freelanced for regional publications, before founding a business magazine for the American Chamber of Commerce in Hong Kong. She worked as the magazine's editor for four years before moving to Paris to serve in the same role for the American Chamber of Commerce business magazine there. Kay also wrote two books, "The Hong Kong Shopper" and "Doing Business in Hong Kong."

Kay moved back to the United States in 1981 to work as an editor and columnist for the Dallas/Fort Worth Business Journal, and, in 1984, became a senior editor of Texas Business Magazine. In 1988, she moved to Austin to join the staff of the Austin American-Statesman, where she worked as an editor for several sections. She also served as a columnist, a Washington correspondent and a Texas Capitol bureau reporter.

In a 2006 interview with Hilltop Views, Kay said she began to consider retirement in the late 1990s. However, she reconsidered and said she didn't want to, "retire and not do anything." So, Kay went to college for the first time and earned a bachelor's degree from St. Edward's New College program in 2002.

But Kay wasn't done. She wanted to teach college, and she couldn't without a graduate degree. So she got one — Master of Liberal Arts, also from St. Edward's, in the area of creative non-fiction.

And then she taught.

St. Edward's needed a professor — not a PhD, but someone with real experience — to teach journalism and to take the reins of Hilltop Views, the campus newspaper. Kay fit the bill. She agreed to take the job for three years.

When Kay arrived on campus, Hilltop Views was a student organization under the supervision of Student Life, and professors said the paper lacked professionalism and quality.

"It wasn't really journalism," said English Writing Area Coordinator Mary Rist. "It was just a newsletter where Student Life talked about the things going on around campus."

Rist's colleagues shared the same sentiment.

Humanities Professor Catherine Rainwater, who was a friend of Kay's, called the newspaper undisciplined and unfocused. Fr. Lou Brusatti, dean of the School of Humanities, said the paper was, "really pretty bad."

Kay thought so too. She made her case, vocally but privately, to Brusatti that things needed to change. When she stopped the pizza parties on production days, feeling they took too big a chunk out of the newspaper's budget and weren't setting the right professional tone, some students quit. Hilltop Views also moved from Student Life to the School of Humanities.

Soon, Kay had students who were truly committed to journalism. Eventually, she won approval to have a paid staff. The staff also began to produce a newspaper every week rather than every other week.

"She was great in that position," Rainwater said. "She turned that paper into something better and so much more competitive."

Kay won her students over too. While she expected professionalism when working on the newspaper, she hosted staff dinners at her home, where students saw a different side of their professor.

"Her strong newsroom attitude was complemented by a genuine interest in her students," said Bryce Bencivengo, who was a student of Kay's and a former Hilltop Views editor-in-chief. "She cared about you."

James Armstrong, a 2009 graduate who became editor-in-chief of Hilltop Views the year after Kay retired, affectionately remembered her energy, competitive drive and the way she chewed on pencils, a habit she developed after she quit smoking.

"I just loved the hustle and bustle of working with Michele Kay," Armstrong said. "You did not want to wait until the last minute to get something done around her."

Kay also teamed with Rist, Rainwater and the late Professor of Communication Marilyn Schultz to create the journalism minor.

"She was always early for meetings," Rist said. "She liked to observe people when they came in and how they reacted to the other people in the room."

Rist added: "She was kind of a reporter instinctively. She was always asking questions, so it was very hard not to tell Michele things."

Not only that, Armstrong said, but it was impossible to lie to Kay — a fact that became evident when the Hilltop Views staff tried, but failed, to quietly write a surprise editorial tribute to Kay as she was retiring. The editorial referred to Kay as, "our leader behind the scenes and a brilliant teacher every step of the way."

Sister Donna Jurick, executive vice president and provost at St. Edward's, knew Kay personally and professionally. She described Kay as someone deeply committed to the St. Edward's mission who served as a model for aspiring journalists. Jurick called Kay, "a wonderful human being and a professional."

"I have nothing but the utmost respect for Michele Kay, and the utmost appreciation," Jurick said. "And I valued her friendship, as well as her professional contribution."

Kay retired in 2008 with plans to travel with her husband, Robert Schultz, who survives her, and to spend time with her grandchildren. Her retirement was cut short when she was diagnosed with brain cancer.

Armstrong said he would remember the straightforward, fast-talking, coffee-loving professor as someone who strived to achieve and pushed him to do the same.

"When she set out to accomplish something, she damn well did it — whether it was helping the paper, or being with her grandkids or having the will to survive," Armstrong said.

Kay is survived by her daughter and son-in-law, Deborah and Chuck Gilbert, her son and daughter-in-law, Warren and Laura Kay, and five grandchildren, Annabel, Keith, Brennan, Austin and Nate.

Funeral services were held Saturday February 19th at the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd.

There will also be a memorial service at St. Edward's University, probably on Saturday, April 2d. Details are pending and will be updated on the

Hilltop Views website

.

This story was written by Tristan Hallman, editor-in-chief of Hilltop Views. Very minor update editing was done by RKS.