Professor Blass, what should I say? For I find no adequate words to express who you really are. In behalf of your students and mentees, and in my own behalf, allow me to pay tribute to someone so special, so simple and selfless.
As a friend, you cried when we cried. You laughed when we laughed. You visited us when we were sick. You fed us when hungry. You met us at our point of vulnerability.
As a teacher, you were our candle and lit the way for us. You did not just dictate, you explained, you demonstrated, you inspired.
As a mentor, you did not speak all the time, by just watching you we learned. You changed most of us by your stimulating spirit. In your eyes, everyone is a winner though at a different pace and ability. Losing is never in your vocabulary. It was your desire to see all of us grow and expand. You pushed us out of our comfort zones. You always talked about your students with pride.
Professor Blass, you are our pride, our hero, our best teacher. Just as Henry Books Adams said:
“A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.”
Your influence is limitless and endless. As you rest the other side, just watch our pace. Someone said once:
“Teachers who inspire know that teaching is like cultivating a garden and those who would have nothing to do with thorns must never attempt to gather flowers” (Author Unknown).
Professor Blass, we will not be scared by thorns. When we finally join you, we will bring home beautiful flowers. You have showed an example. You fought the good fight, you finished the race. Rest in Peace.