But the Greatest of These...

Mrs. Valerie Neely But the Greatest of These…

Dr. Dean Thompson pays obeisance to a pillar and exemplar

When Valerie Neely retired in late June as Assistant Registrar after twenty-eight years at Presbyterian College, she did not want any fanfare or drama on her last day.

Well, drama there was. She was late for work, with excellent reason: a few hours earlier, her daughter had given birth to twins. After a radiant Val strode in, fanfare commenced as friends stopped by throughout the day with cards and hugs. They brought homage from their kitchens, too: by 5 p.m. there were four cakes on her desk.

The best tribute of all may have come at this year’s graduation ceremony, when Provost Don Raber called her to the stage. Presenting her with a certificate of appreciation, he captured the thought that floated above Templeton gym that morning: “I think it is fair to say that, without her in the office, there may be hundreds of PC alumni, perhaps some of you gathered here today, that would not have graduated or made it through had there not been something Ms. Val had done or said for you that got you where you needed to be.”

The prolonged roar that followed was to be expected. The faculty and soon-to-be graduates were not the first to stand, however; though they jumped to their feet quickly enough, they were bested by the parents, those who knew what hours their daughters and sons had spent at Val’s side through the years as she untangled and realigned their class schedules, patiently listened to their trials, wagged a gentle finger, prayed with them, boosted their spirits, and pointed them toward maturity. George Eliot said it best in 1857: “Blessed influence of one true loving human soul on another! Not calculable by algebra, not deducible by logic, but mysterious, effectual, mighty as the hidden process by which the tiny seed is quickened, and bursts forth into tall stem and broad leaf, and glowing tasseled flower.”

A recent alumnus put it more succinctly. He called Val not long ago to ask about a transcript-related matter, and when I pointed out he could have gone straight to the College website for an answer, he dismissed my ignorance with a wave, saying, “I wanted to hear her voice. I feel like a better person whenever I talk with her.”

We all did; we all do. You’ll be pleased and not a bit surprised to know there was one more item that went home with Val on her last day. She shook her head at the notion of a reception, but she smilingly accepted a PC rocking chair. She couldn’t have cared less about adding a showpiece to her living room; she wanted to rock her grandbabies. And there we have a lovely and loving image of Val to retain as she gracefully segues into retirement. It gladdens one’s heart for the future.