Why I Loved John Downs And The Importance of Heroes

June, 2011 by Matt Laughlin

John Downs At Carroll College
(He was a professor for 33 yrs) *
John Downs Teaching At Carroll College

Aside from heroes in my childhood - my loving parents, T.V.'s Grizzly Adams and an inspiring high school track coach - one my first heroes as a young adult was John Downs.

I loved the man.

I wasn't the first to fall in love with John - beloved psychology professor at Carroll College, a Catholic liberal arts school in Helena Montana.

In my time at Carroll there were many of us.

You could spot us lingering around him after class, a handful of young men and women cracking jokes and eagerly listening to any story John might share as we walked toward the century-old St. Charles Hall.

John was fond of spending time in the faculty lounge in St. Charles, cheerfully inviting any student, staff or faculty that happened by to enjoy a cup of a coffee and a donut.

John's early years at Carroll
(I was still watching Grizzly Adams) *

John Downs in his early years at Carroll

With a break between class, and on the days I could get over my nervousness, I liked to drop by the faculty lounge for a quick hello.

I wasn't nervous because of John. I was nervous because I was 21. And, because I loved him. It was a love characterized by wanting to simply be around the man and enjoy his company, and it was a love characterized by wanting to be like the man, to emulate his wisdom, strength and graciousness.

John had a rare combination of grit and ruggedness together with a remarkably gentle, kind, and intelligent nature. I later learned John - despite being undersized for the position - was an an all conference defensive lineman in college football. And the man was as gentle as they come.

He cried a lot.

They weren't sentimental, sad or dramatic tears. They were tears of compassion, gratitude and lovingness. John's eyes welled up frequently in touching conversations or in the middle of a lecture. I especially recall this happening whenever he spoke on the developmental and psychological significance of caring. And, of course, anecdotal stories about his children and family never failed to bring tears or laughter. I have since learned that spontaneous crying is a common phase many loving nuns and monks pass through in their spiritual development. There really was a saintly quality about him.

Humility.

John had a gift for story telling. Many of his stories touched on his own shortcomings, past mistakes and naivety as a young man. He would roar with laughter. Like all great Teachers, he modeled that it is okay to be human. His capacity to accept and forgive his own humanity was a gift to a room full of young people stuggling to do the same.

He reverenced nature.

During a hard spring rain, high in the mountains near Helena Montana, John took shelter, laying down in a narrow hallow next to a fallen tree. As the sun returned, trees limbs still dripping, John was about to get up when a bull elk stepped over and straddled him, oblivious of John's scent and presence below. John's fear of the moment was overcome by his reverence for the beauty of it. He was unmistakably moved when he attempted to describe the exquisite stillness, the quality of the light, and the majesty of the elk's presence, dripping coat above him, its breath suspended in the mist. His gratitude and reverence for the beauty of the natural world was palpable.

"Be a servant"

John's life philosophy and inspiring example are summed up in three words he was fond of saying: "Be a servant." As you got to know him, his faith in God was evident. But he wasn't one to proselytize. There are those that say they love God, and there are those whose way of being in the world reveals a profound love for God and one's fellows. John was the latter.

One of his favorite summer activities was to drive his old pick up truck and chain saw around the small town of Helena Montana to the homes of widows or elderly couples whose yard and house were in desperate need of repair. He would fell precarious old trees, chop them up and load his truck in time to sneak away before anyone could stuff money in his pockets.

In my work one of the most revealing questions I love to ask people is who they admire most and why? Heroes not only inspire us, but reflect back to us qualities within ourselves we have yet to fully own and recognize.

Being around John Downs inspired me to be a better man. I can't imagine how much more inspiring his presence was to his closest family and friends.

John died of Leukemia in the fall of 2002. Before he passed hundreds gathered in candle light and prayer outside his Hospital window. I am sure they were not only mourning the loss of his presence in their life, but also quietly thanking him for the light he kindled in their hearts.

* Thanks to Carroll College for providing these photos and permission to post them.

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