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.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
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.
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.
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."
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
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
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