The final number in the gathering music played at the Law School Memorial Service for David H. Vernon on November 9, 2001 was the old Frank Sinatra classic "My Way."  Rhoda, Chuck and I agreed we couldn't think of a better song to commence a celebration of Dave's remarkable life than "My Way."  If anyone insisted on living life on his own terms, it was David Vernon.

  My friendship with Dave goes back to 1966 when he came to Iowa City as dean, so I have my share of stories to back up the claim that Dave was a "My Way" kind of guy.   Let me tell you just one. Every fall for the last 22 years, I have organized students and faculty to put on a law school musical.  This is an enterprise that both Dave and Rhoda have participated in from time to time.  Two years ago, I recruited Dave to do a bit of corny stand-up comedy material we call "The Grumpy Professor" -- a take off on an old Saturday Night Live character.  The script I gave Dave wasn't hilarious, but it was a fairly clever adaptation of the Grumpy Old Man character to the law school setting.  As I should have remembered, however, Saturday Night Live was a late night TV show that Dave, the original "early to bed early to rise  man" had never seen.  When Dave read the script I gave him, it seemed to him exaggerated to the point of silliness -- which was of course the point of the skit.  We never got around to rehearsing his bit, so on the night of the performance, Dave took the stage and recited his totally rewritten version of the script, which turned out to be a detailed recounting of his personal reminiscences about his law school experience 50 years ago.  To me, who knew what the routine was supposed to be, his memories were mildly interesting, but lacked all the humorous elements of the original script.  To the student audience, however, because it was Dave playing himself, they thought the stories he was accounting were uproariously entertaining and they loved it.  Dave had done the number his way and he had triumphed, as usual.

We still toss around Latin phrases in law school from time to time.  The phrase that best fits Dave is "Sui Generis" -- the only one of its kind -- truly special.  One of the charming things about Dave was that he knew he had some extraordinary abilities, like testing above the 99th percentile on IQ tests, but he wasn't overbearing or arrogant about them.  The most immodest thing I remember him saying was in response to my teasing him that he was a rather peripatetic law teacher -- Iowa was the 5th law school faculty for him at age 40.  His simple explanation: "I just give great job interviews."

 The Iowa Law School provides a quite different and higher quality legal education today than it did when Dave Vernon arrived as a new dean in 1966.  More than any other person, Dave envisioned and laid the ground work for the student-centered law school that is Iowa's trademark today.  Dave believed professional education in law school should be highly personalized.  Iowa's first year small section program, writing emphasis, and open door policy are all part of his legacy.   Dave served the school superbly, first as dean and then for 30 years as a gifted teacher and scholar.  Dave was a unique individual who was always there for students and faculty colleagues who needed his help.  Dave had special qualities as a teacher, a mentor and a friend that enabled him to positively touch lives of literally thousands of young men and women.  Hopefully their fond memories of his friendly badgering (and red socks) will lighten the grief we all feel at his loss.

 Dave Vernon was every law dean's dream faculty member.  As a former dean himself, he was disinclined to kick up a fuss over trivial issues.  When his view occasionally failed to prevail in a faculty vote, he cheerfully moved on to the next dispute.

As a teacher, it was evident that he loved the classroom and cared deeply about his students.  Dave was not only a sure bet to conduct an outstanding class year in and year out, he was always the first to offer to step in and cover a colleague's  teaching in an emergency.  He routinely taught two small writing sections concurrently, something very few faculty will do.  Even in phased retirement when he was required to teach half time, he actually taught 2/3 time.  As a mentor to young faculty, Dave was wonderful.  He was always ready to create teaching simulations or read draft papers.  He was always available to listen to a current dean's confessions of uncertainty about the right course of action and was ready with sound advice, but only if asked.

Dave was an extraordinary person who lived an exemplary life, completely on his own terms.  To the very end, he insisted on doing things his way, and he did.  Dave will be missed by a great number of people, each in his or her own way.  He will be especially missed by his dean.

Concluding Remarks

 Listening to the stories about David's life that were told at his memorial services,  I learned much that I did not know about him and his achievements.  Isn't it a shame that we gather to share these stories only after the leading character has passed from the scene?   It makes me think we should put our heads together and create more special occasions to mark milestones in the lives of our friends with celebrations that allow us to let them know how much we admire and appreciate their contributions to our lives while they are still here to celebrate with us.

Dave Vernon followed the advice of the sage who counseled that we should learn as if we were going to live forever and live as if we were going to die tomorrow.  Dave never lost his passion for learning, and he lived life to the fullest to the very end.