My Heroic Mentor Smiled Radiantly While Dying of Lou Gehrig’s Disease
Boss and friend had an amazing aura that inspired others and had a middle school named after him
Gently, I reach for Dave’s bony elbow, slide my other arm around his right frail hip, and prepare to hoist my feeble friend from his mechanical wheelchair. His body withered to skin and bones, barely weighing 125 pounds.
Dave sits helpless — unable to move — naked beside a towel draped around his waist, as I assist my mentor to take a shower.
His radiant smile still glowing as strong as the first day we met five years ago.
Dave is in the last days of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). Also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease.
ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disease hindering your nerve cells. Although your mind stays strong, you gradually lose all the muscles in your body, including the ability to talk.
I glance over at his courageous and dedicated wife, Sharon, hoping I am handling her husband of 17 years with the utmost love and care. Sharon appears fearless.
“OK, Mike,” she said with a brave front for Dave. “On three, let’s get David cleaned up and looking dapper. He’s got a hot date tonight.”
I catch a heartfelt loving look in Dave’s eyes, a shell of his old self, the smile still contagious and a country mile wide, and reminisce about our too short but memorable journey together.
My journey with Dave
I remember it like it was yesterday, sitting patiently in a comfortable Cimarron Elementary office chair eager to be interviewed by this Antelope Valley icon.
Then he walked by.
David G. Millen. Gigantic smile. Though he had yet to meet me, he still shot me a warm, friendly smile, nodded his head, and disappeared majestically into his office.
Right away it was obvious. Dave Millen had this glow about him. This aura. It clearly rubbed off on others. I knew right away all the great things I heard about this man — this legend — was true. I knew at that moment I wanted to be a part of it.
Embarrassingly and absent-mindedly, I had stupidly shown up on the wrong day. Dave still squeezed me in and took the time to really get to know me.
Despite my horrid calendar planning skills, I was hired by Dave to be a third-grade teacher at his prestigious school.
So began an incredible, life-changing, five-year odyssey of learning by admiring, respecting, and becoming a dear friend with Dave Millen.
Making school
Dave, who served as an educator for 36 years, had four things teachers were required to participate in. Several bickered and weren’t fans of these programs, but I saw what Dave was up to. He was giving students something memorable to experience. Something they would remember the rest of their lives.
The first two were the Cimarron International Days and the Cimarron Olympics. For International Day, each classroom would choose a country, make colorful suitcases out of file folders, decorate their room like the country, and “tour” other classrooms. As tourists, they would do activities, eat food, and watch a program revolving around the chosen country.
Cimarron Olympics & Stars on Stage
Although Dave wasn’t a sports guy. He created the Cimarron Olympics.
Students competed as their assigned country and participated in an opening ceremony with homemade flags, then battled in a variety of both indoors and outdoor events. You could see the sparkle and sense of pride as proud students returned to class with medals dangling around their necks.
The last of Dave’s to-do list was “Stars on Stage.” Each teacher performed a night show for parents. One year, my third-graders performed “Are You My Mother.” I still have Dave’s encouraging thank-you note pinned to my current sixth-grade David G. Millen Middle Scholl classroom wall. It reads:
Mike,
Marci said your night performance was one of the best she has ever seen. You make me proud.
Sincerely,
Dave
I wish I saved the numerous others he wrote to me as it is another thing he was famous for. Kind little notes that brighten your day and make you feel special and appreciated. A trait I’ve inherited from my mentor.
Always wanted to please
Dave was the kind of boss you never wanted to let down. I remember the time I was reading the newspaper in the front of the class, and Dave walked in, smiling of course, and walked out. Later, the vice principal said Dave was disappointed I was sitting reading the paper not teaching.
I explained I was encouraging kids to read during silent reading.
Dave understood, but suffice to say, I never did that again.
Now I try to remember Dave throughout my school days teaching English and coaching basketball at David G. Millen Middle School, which was named after my mentor. I wear a tie Sharon gave me every opening season home game I coach.
Boss to mentor to a dear friend
He went from a boss to a mentor to a dear friend. Even a father figure. I loved popping in his office. Dave, decked out in his famous Foghorn Leghorn tie, sharing his travels around the globe, family stories, or how he woke up a sleeping teacher napping in their car.
I was excited when my family was invited to his casual but prestigious yearly “non-event” pool parties with mostly principal friends as our friendship blossomed.
Fighting ALS
I remember the first time I was in Dave’s office when he was concerned with some small uncontrollable movement in his hand.
It didn’t seem to be a concern. As with everything else, he just kind of smiled and said “it’s not that it bothers me or hurts. Hopefully, it’s nothing major.”
It was.
It was the beginning stages of ALS. And even when he was diagnosed with the deadly disease, he still continued to work as a principal for four more years until his health started to really deteriorate.
Dave’s courage and everlasting smile
During Dave’s daily battles with ALS is when I saw the courage of Dave Millen.
I’d visit him at his house every week. Sometimes twice a week. Sharon — a principal herself — was so brave, always serving, and always there for him. Sharon was mentally exhausted, but her overwhelming and abundant love never shined so brightly.
As the days and years passed, Dave lost the function of his arms, legs, relied on a computer to speak, and couldn’t eat on his own. There was always one constant: His smile. It never left. It never wavered. It was amazing.
I last saw him a week or so before he passed back on December 31, 2004 that energetic and radiant smile was still etched eternally on Dave Millen even when the rest of his body was weak and faltering.
Truly inspiration and courageous: smiling always through life’s hardest adversity.
Dave’s Inspiring, Memorable Saying
Dave had quite a few sayings like his friendly “alrighty” and “tepid milk” (for constant schedule changes), but his most popular — by far — and inspiring quote is plastered in the office of the school proudly named for him:
“Make it a great day or not, the choice is yours.”
It was how the late, great Dave Millen ended his morning announcements every day — rain or shine. It was his mantra. A quote he lived by and he always chose the first choice.
Dave always had a great day and a smile on his face.
Thank you for reading.
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