Bruce Andrew McKenna

Bruce Andrew McKenna, who gave his life to teaching, died on October 8, leaving behind his wife of 31 years, Janice McKenna, and thousands of former students in whom he inspired a love of books and reading. He was 60 years old.

Raised in a suburb of Boston, Bruce received his education from Jesuit schools and went on to earn a bachelor's degree from Yale. Tall and athletic, he played on Yale's basketball squad. He took a job at WGBH in Boston, one of the nation's largest public television stations, and got to know his co-workers well. In 1982, shortly after he left the station to enter his doctoral program at Brandeis University, he returned to ask one of his co-workers, Janice Gomes, on a date. It happened that the Goodyear blimp was over Cambridge that day, and Janice teased Bruce ever after that he took her blimp-watching on their first date.

Janice and Bruce were married on August 21, 1983, in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Janice's home state. Her mother had hoped her own children would become teachers, and approved of Janice's marriage to the new professor.

Bruce was awarded his doctorate in English and American Literature by Brandeis University in 1988. His dissertation was on the works Sinclair Lewis, the first American writer to win the Nobel Prize, and the films made from Lewis's novels. Bruce's doctoral work embraced a wide range of the literature during Lewis's time, including the works of minority writers. Bruce became a scholar as well of African-American literature, and for the rest of his life he taught Modern American Literature courses that championed writers from all walks of life.

Bruce found work as a part-time professor at prestigious Ivy League institutions such as MIT and Brandeis, but he was unable to secure a full-time position. In 1993, he and Janice moved to Sacramento, where he accepted a position at National University. His students there were more mature, putting themselves through college and raising families, and usually holding down jobs during the day before they went to school at night. Bruce discovered that he preferred being an educator to students who'd gotten fewer opportunities in life and cared so much about their education.

In 2000, Janice was recruited to be an executive with a broadcast corporation in the Northwest, and they moved to Seattle. Bruce was hired onto the faculty of the newly created Cascadia College.

They settled into a Northwest life in Lake Forest Park. Thunder and Cocopuffs (Coco), their cherished dalmations, had moved from California with them, and soon got used to walks in the park in the rain. Bruce, an instinctual cook, according to Janice, prepared the meals for guests, including his culinary triumph, hand-made manicotti, the shells and stuffing crafted from scratch. Janice sang barbershop with the Pacific Sound Chorus, honing her talent and becoming a panel secretary for regional competitions of the Sweet Adelines.

Bruce liked jazz and sports statistics, and was rarely without a book or magazine in his hand. Janice used to call him her font of useless knowledge; he could summon arcane facts almost endlessly, and you could not win against him in Trivial Pursuit.

In 2004, Bruce began a tenure-track faculty position at Seattle Central Community College. He spent the rest of his life there, teaching writing and literature, meeting students in his fourth-floor office, working on high-level committees, and serving as co-president of the faculty senate and department coordinator. He really enjoyed teaching, Janice says. He kept track of how many of his students went on into four-year institutions and were successful. That was something he was very proud of.

In December 2010, after seeing a physician for pain in his shoulder, Bruce was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. He underwent radiation, and a round of chemotherapy. Still he continued teaching, and was beloved for his irrepressible sense of humor-even after he lost his trademark silver hair and moustache. He was forced to use a cane and, at times, a wheelchair, which gave him particular license for wit and levity. His hair grew back with a little more curl.

Since Bruce's death, bereaved colleagues and students have left scores of notes of remembrance on his office door, along with flowers.

Bruce McKenna is survived by his wife, Janice; his sisters Maureen and Dee, and his brother Brian; his mother, Dorothy; and five nieces and nephews.