Douglas Engel, 1932-2006
I can honestly say that Doug Engel was my favourite prof at the U of A. His sense of humour, his knowledge of his subject area, and his extreme patience with a nervous, perfectionist student such as myself were the main reasons why. My class was Educational Media, which was sort of like a scaled-down graphic arts course. Yes, that is the fabled Faculty of Education one-semester class where we learn how to turn on an overhead projector. (There was a joke in the day: How many Education students does it take to turn on an overhead projector? Only one -- but it's a 3-credit course).
Doug was also one of my student teaching supervisors, and again his wisdom and experience was valued. He encouraged my pursuits in photography, and even turned some of my nature photographs into small greeting cards for a business venture he attempted some years back.
Most of all, it was Doug's sense of humour that created his warm charisma. He had shared with our class on numerous occasions that prior to becoming a professor he had a career in journalism. Right before our final exam, he asked if we had any last minute questions. I smugly raised my hand. "I know that you said before you became a professor that you were involved in journalism, but did you ever do any real teaching?" "Real teaching" implied actual classroom experience teaching kids. His face turned totally red, and he was choking back laughter so hard his words came out in sputters. The entire class was hysterical. It took several minutes for everyone to regain their composure. My father was a colleague of Doug's, and for years afterwards he would ask me from time to time, "What was it you said that made Doug laugh so hard?" I knew I could never have gotten away with saying something like that to any other professor.
Bonded by our mutual love of photography, we stayed in touch after I graduated. When Doug first told me he had ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), I did not know how far it had progressed. We had lost touch for a while -- maybe a little over a year, during which time he was subscribed to my e-mail update list. I was stunned when he told me, the result of which was him having to unsubscribe due to lack of energy. This was only about two months ago. Doug passed away on April 23. A true loss. He was one of a kind.
Doug was also one of my student teaching supervisors, and again his wisdom and experience was valued. He encouraged my pursuits in photography, and even turned some of my nature photographs into small greeting cards for a business venture he attempted some years back.
Most of all, it was Doug's sense of humour that created his warm charisma. He had shared with our class on numerous occasions that prior to becoming a professor he had a career in journalism. Right before our final exam, he asked if we had any last minute questions. I smugly raised my hand. "I know that you said before you became a professor that you were involved in journalism, but did you ever do any real teaching?" "Real teaching" implied actual classroom experience teaching kids. His face turned totally red, and he was choking back laughter so hard his words came out in sputters. The entire class was hysterical. It took several minutes for everyone to regain their composure. My father was a colleague of Doug's, and for years afterwards he would ask me from time to time, "What was it you said that made Doug laugh so hard?" I knew I could never have gotten away with saying something like that to any other professor.
Bonded by our mutual love of photography, we stayed in touch after I graduated. When Doug first told me he had ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), I did not know how far it had progressed. We had lost touch for a while -- maybe a little over a year, during which time he was subscribed to my e-mail update list. I was stunned when he told me, the result of which was him having to unsubscribe due to lack of energy. This was only about two months ago. Doug passed away on April 23. A true loss. He was one of a kind.