Robert M. Pack

My best to Mrs. Pack, my very first English teacher at Middlebury. With me being a foreign student from China, she was in every sense my very first teacher in America. She read us Professor Pack's poems sometimes. Even though my English was not up to par at the time, so to speak, I was moved my the imagery and loneliness mixed sentences...

Being a foreign student from China, I had to take Mrs. Pack's English 100 class in the fall of 1981. Even though my English was really bad at the time, I mean, really bad, I still was moved by a poem she gave us to read by her husband, Professor Pack. It was about a lonely observer standing on a lonely mountain road at night, facing the occasional (and lonely) traffic in the rain... The imagery it described has stuck in my mind for decades. What a genius. My condolences, Mrs. Pack. I don't...

So much of what I love about poetry and opera is due to knowing Bob Pack - teacher, boss, and friend. He enriched so many lives. Sydney

Half a century of friendship and dear memories. And the poetry we shared. And the laughter. Eileen knew you were on the phone when I would be laughing as you told joke after joke. Miss you and think about you and your family every day. Love, Paul

On Bob's birthday I just sat down to write congratulations and thanks for the many warm memories and life-long lessons learned, when I found that he had died with Patty at his side. In this apple-blossom season at Middlebury College I used to bring him flowering branches to celebrate and express my gratitude and affection. Warm wishes to Patty and Eric, whom I used to care for as a little boy, and all the family from Bea.

"Your absence is as bright as sunlight on the sea." (from "What Would Wind Say" by Robert Pack. Thank you, Bob, for the privilege of reading your poem at the memorial service for my Middlebury Class of '71 reunion and for helping to illuminate the world of poetry for me during the past few years. May you find peace in the spiritual universe that you so often wrote about.

The stereo plays Bach as we look out on snow covered peaks. Bob and I talk baseball and eat a sandwich. A spider spins a web in the window.