“I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty. Its sole arbiter is taste.” — Edgar Allen Poe
For 27 years Marlene Mallewick pulled in to the Woodrow parking lot (many times in a classic 1960’s Riviera) to teach sophomore English and American literature. On May 15 she was honored with a retirement party at CityPlace.
Miss Mallewick came to Dallas from Niagra Falls when she was three years old. A graduate of Fannin Elementary, Spence Middle School and North Dallas High School, she was offered many scholarships, taking one at the University of North Texas.
She taught at Crozier Tech for three years before coming to Woodrow, where she served as head of the English department.
“She had a wonderful attitude, and she loved her students,” says proud mom Betty Mallewick. “She didn’t stay in the teacher’s lounge, she was dedicated to her students.”
I still remember her Friday vocabulary tests and her contagious enthusiasm for American authors. I don’t think I ever missed her class, except to take my driver’s test.
Through the years, she has remained a figure of respect and is kind in every social situation, attending events important to her past students, and her caring presence is always a comfort and inspiration.
As she retired to her Turtle Creek condo, I would like to offer some quotations I have gleaned from her class more than 20 years ago in tribute.
“On the breast of her gown, in red cloth, surrounded with an elaborate embroidery and fantastic flourishes; of gold thread, appeared the letter A.”
“Life is made up of marble and mud.”
— Nathaniel Hawthorne
“Our life is frittered away by detail…Simplify, simplify.”
“It is life near the bone where it is sweetest.”
— Henry David Thoreau
“To him who in the love of nature hold communion with her visible forms, she speaks a various language.”
— William Cullen Bryant
“Give me a condor’s quill! Give me a Vesuvius’ crater for an inkstand!…To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme.”
— Herman Melville
“Deep into that darkness peering, long
I stood there, wondering, fearing,
doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal
ever dared to dream before.”
— Edgar Allan Poe
Evermore, Miss Mallewick, evermore.
