April 29, 1928 – January 6, 2009 PHARR, TEXAS- Funeral services for Shelby Odell Bewley, 80, formerly of Whitesboro, will be held at 11:00 A.M. Friday, January 9, 2009 at the First United Methodist Church in Whitesboro, officiated by Rev. Jack Wallace, with a visitation prior to service from 10 to 11 A.M. Graveside services will be held at 2:00 P.M. Sunday, January 11, 2009 at The King Cemetery in Jamestown, TN. Services are under the direction of Meador Funeral Home of Whitesboro, TX
Shelby was born on April 29, 1928 in Sudan, TX to Virgil and Jessie (Alexander) Bewley. He married Billie Juanell Stephens on September 20, 1955 in Baltimore, MD. Shelby served in the United States Navy during the Korean conflict and retired from the Navy as a Lieutenant Commander. He received his bachelorâ??s degree from the University of Texas in Austin and his masters and doctorate degrees from the University of Montana. Shelbyâ??s teaching career spanned from teaching middle school to superintendant of schools in Renton, WA.
Shelby was a gentle loving man and a wonderful father, went home to celebrate with Jesus and reunite with the love of his life Billie on January 6, 2009. In lieu of flowers please make a donation to Americans for the Arts at http://www.americansforthearts.org .
Survivors include two sons; Gary David Bewley of Cincinnati, OH and Mark Bewley and wife Zulema of Mission; a daughter, Brenda Sue Graham of Las Vegas, NV; a sister, Christine Ford of Muleshoe and 5 grandchildren.
It has been some time. I occasionally take the time to look up a few people in my life who had a distinct positive influence on me and my, at that time, future life. Shelby O. Bewley was such a person. Accessing online records, I have found he died early in 2009. I’m sure he would have frowned on my handing in this brief expression of gratitude more than ten years late.
One piece of writing he did not frown on was an essay I wrote sixty years ago on JFK’s Profiles in Courage. If he’d known how I came up with that piece of composition I’m sure he wouldn’t have given it an A+ with the approving comment, “You have a gift…” It was scratched together the night before it was due and I had grave reservations about it as I placed on the pile of papers on his desk.
Nevertheless, I took his complement to heart and have continued my writing for the past decades, mostly in jobs of various sorts I’ve had, some independently, producing planning documents, promotional pieces, newspaper commentary and, finally over the past decade or so, fiction, simply to empty my brain of all the characters and stories I’ve accumulated since I first met Shelby in that 1959 freshman English class. He awarded me with A’s through that and the subsequent year in his classes and I came to know and respect him more highly than any other teacher I had in my high school career. He’s one among the very few I never forgot.
Some years back, as I recall, in the decade before he died, I tracked him down and wrote him a letter thanking him for the person, and more notably, the teacher he was, and for the influence he’d been in my life. Somehow, in one of the reorganizations of my office, I’ve misplace that brief exchange we had at that time. I informed him that I was retired and had written a couple of novels, a collection of short stories and a handful of poems during my more idle times since giving up the publishing company my wife and I had operated for twenty-five years. He responded with a request that I send him some samples of my work. I regret that the request laid idle too long and I simply forgot to follow his wishes.
I still think of him often when I read some of my own work and wonder how the hell I came up with that word or clause or phrase or character, how I managed to twist that expression in that direction or how I put together nearly three hundred pages, three times, and they came out reading like a real story made up entirely of my own imaginings. Then I realize, it was him, Shelby O. Bewley, who gave me the kick start to put my words on paper (or on the screen) and see what might become of them. To date, little has become of them, but some are in the hands of people who make publishing decisions and I’m frequently encouraged. And, as I learned at the hand of Shelby O. Bewley, encouragement is the first step toward dedication to any form of art.
“Keep writing, writing, writing,” he once wrote to me. I will. I will. I will. And I have.
If you are in contact with those who in his family who survived him, please pass this on. And you have my permission to pass along my email address.
Bruce R. Midgett
I had Shelby Bewley as an English teacher when I was at Sentinel High. I called him Mr. Bewley. I must have been a Junior as I remember the class was in the newer high school on South Avenue. I got my one and only B in high school in his class.
Mr. Bewley’s English class was the only high school class that severely challenged me. The D grade I received on my first essay floored me. I believe the subject was the novel Kim by Rudyard Kipling. I didn’t know there was so much to good writing (or good reading) before I took Mr. Bewley’s class. I loved the challenge of writing for Mr. Bewley. I will be forever grateful for being in his class.
I went to a tough engineering school in Massachusetts and majored in Electrical Engineering. Strangely enough, even though I loved science, most of my undergraduate A’s were obtained in humanities classes, thanks to Mr. Bewley. Those humanities classes were a pleasant break from the toil of engineering classes and homework. Humanities classes helped me get through school. I went on to become a scientist working for Texas Instruments in Dallas, Texas, where I had a successful career (which involved a lot of writing). I am now retired.
I noticed in this obituary that Mr. Bewley was from Texas. I have lived in Texas for over 45 years now. I didn’t know he went to the University of Texas! I am impressed that he got his PhD from the University of Montana.
I contacted Mr. Bewley in 1971 when he was the Superintendent of Schools in Renton, Washington. I needed a reference, which he kindly provided. I never contacted him again, much to my regret. I wished I could have thanked him for being such a transformative teacher in my life.