little story about a guy named rudy

In 1992, I had just been accepted to the Ph.D. program (in midstream) at the University of New Mexico, where I was also going to be teaching. Had a little office in with the group of offices there. Nice campus, nice gig. About the second day I was getting settled, this little Hispanic guy walks in and says, "Hey, you're new here, right?" "Yup, sure am." "Good to have you. My name is Rudy. I'm in the office right next to you. If there's anything I can get you or point you to, just let me know." I thought, now, that's pretty cool. Sometimes this grad-student thing gets pretty competitive once you get into the doctoral years, and this guy just couldn't be nicer.

So a little while later I'm leaving the office, and I think it'd be a good idea to look and see what Rudy's office hours are, what his last name is, etc., so I'll know something. If you haven't guessed by now, his last name was Anaya, as in Rudolfo Anaya, the author of Bless Me, Ultima. Artist and lecturer in residence at the time. He could've been the custodian, or the front-office part-timer, or the route guy filling the coke machine, for all you would know from his manner. Also, I thought he was in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. Turns out he was mid-50s, fit as a pine fence. And, swear to God, nicer than anybody there, with some really tough competition from a lot of really good people that I still miss a lot.

Rudy, if you're out there...I never forgot this, man. It matters how a person is to people, and you were a prime example. I hope you're doing well, and I can't wait to see the film. What a body of work you've left to the world.