By Lauren Meserve 

Upon hearing the news of Mr. Hoover's retirement, I spit out "He's not old enough to retire!" Then I realized that I celebrate my 36th birthday this week, which means that I sat in his classroom half of a lifetime ago.  However, my memories are as clear as if it were yesterday.  I can see Mr. Hoover walking down the hall, tie loosened, hair in disarray, carrying a large stack of papers, manila folders, books, newspapers, etc., usually with a cup of caffeine precariously balanced on top.  I can see him folded into one of those classroom chairs with the small desk attached, legs crossed, scuffed brown loafer bobbing off of a toe, urging a student to take a thought one step further.  I also can see him in one of those tired moments of frustration when the glasses came off, he rubbed his eyes, and took a deep inhale (this happened most often in the print shop when we missed a Lasso deadline).

But my best memories involved books (really!).  For those of us who graduated from Mason in the late eighties/early nineties, we should remember discussing Macbeth, The Sound and the Fury, Portrait of an Artist, and, of course, Moby Dick.  How could we forget the day that Mr. Hoover brought in that massive harpoon in hopes of bringing to life the quest for the White Whale?  However, we all knew that Moby Dick was more than a whaling story and that Lady Macbeth was trying to rub off more than just blood from her hands.  Mr. Hoover drew us into the symbols, the deeper meanings, the metaphors, the secrets.  He led us to the "a-ha!” moment…to the epiphany.  I imagine it's quite difficult to teach epiphany; it's too magical.  Yet Mr. Hoover managed to perform magic in the classroom almost every day…for many, many years.

Mr. Hoover, it is an honor to be counted as one of your students.  You will be missed.