I am Jennifer Sigman, class of 1999, and I killed Rupert Gaddy.
Then he turned around and killed me.
We did this as often as he could get away from some of his other duties and join myself, Dr. Cockrell, and Todd on our private little Quake server. He said it was great for stress relief.
Rupert certainly wasn't like most of the rest of the professors at Newberry College. He chain smoked, two or more packs a day. He cussed. He never bothered to try to keep his stringy grey hair neat. He married a woman (a former student!) nearly 30 years his junior and had a son 20 years younger than his other children.
But he was a great teacher. I wanted to be in his speech class so bad, I cooked up the colitis excuse so I could drop out of the speech class I had been slated for and took his over the summer instead. He got great things out of the students when he directed plays.
Newberry just won't be the same without him.
And, by the way, Rupert, I'm still winning the frag-fest. Send me your IP address when I get up there, and we'll go another round. Or two. Or three...
My memorial for Professor Rupert Gaddy, who died Saturday. Raise hell, dude.