From the News DemocratRoyse Dixon, 72, of Hamersville, died Friday, July 25, 2008 at his residence.
Mr. Dixon was a retired teacher from the Western Brown School District, a farmer and member of the Hamersville United Church of Christ.
He was born Jan. 1, 1936 in Butler County, Ohio, the son of the late Roy and Rose Hensley Dixon. He was also preceded in death by his brother, Leon Dixon.
Mr. Dixon is survived by his wife, Genene Davenport Dixon; one son and daughter-in-law, Mark and Brenda Dixon of Red Oak; two grandchildren; two brothers and sisters-in-law, John Davenport of Los Angeles, Calif., Pete and Dottie Davenport of South Point, and Betty Dixon of St. Augustine, Fla.; one sister and brother-in-law, Betty and Dalis Cumbow of Columbus; eight nieces and nephews; and one aunt, Mary Brinkman of Cincinnati.
Visitation: 6 to 9 p.m. Monday, July 28, at Cahall Funeral Home in Georgetown.
Services: 11 a.m. Tuesday, July 29, at the funeral home.
Rev. John Hayes officiating.
Burial: Confidence Cemetery in Georgetown.
Memorials: Hospice of Hope, 215 Hughes Blvd., Mt. Orab, Ohio 45154 or the donor’s choice.
Condolences may be sent to the family at www.Cahallfuneralhomes.com
Mr. Dixon was my freshman high school English teacher. He was not the traditional scholarly type, in fact he had come to education after working for an oil company. While he may not have been the most effite and academe, he was full of what so few people have, common sense. It was in his class that I felt the drive to write more, and he nourished that opportunity. In a school where the jock culture was worshipped, he truly treated everyone the same. In a school where income and what your last name was secured you, he treated everyone as if they were king. Stoner or prep, jock or nerd, he treated you with respect.
Mr. D was always kind to me. He kept up with me after high school and tried like hell to get me on back at my alma mater. He always laughed those first few years outside of high school as I drove around in my red 73 Cadillac Sedan De Ville and never hesitated to say hello, even when I was no longer big man on campus.
He was one of the last of the giants of WB. He made going there fun, and he always remembered me and appreciated my efforts. I had kind of lost track of him, even though we still both live in the same county, until a couple of months ago, when a pastor I know mentioned him and talked about his cancer having returned with a vengeance. Not knowing his phone number, I called what looked like it in the book. It was his son. He told me where "the old codger" lived, and I said I would get over to look in on him. Sadly, I got too busy with work and going back to school that I never got the chance. I got the news of his passing yesterday through an email from a mutual friend.
Mr. Dixon always remembered you, and always asked about what you were doing. He cared about his students, no matter their records, their last names, their sport, whatever. He tried to impart to us treating everyone with respect, and telling it like it is. He always loved to tell everybody I was the first student to get a perfect in the reading section on the ACT at WB, something no one else in the faculty seemed to care about, but he did. I still treasure the time he took those of us who took the scholarship test for him out to Eastgate for dinner and fun. You could do that back in those days and as a teacher not worry about lawsuits, and as a student not worry about being molested. Royse Dixon was an honorable, decent, funny, caring man with a biting wit who told you how it was. He loved a good joke, especially at his own expense. The man was just larger than life. He was very special to me, and I miss him. I still remember running into him along country roads over the years, as in retirement he loved to fish and hike around Brown County. I wish I would have had time to go with him on some of those hikes, or would have taken the time to see him these last few months. But, I know, however, that my tears are really for me and those he left behind; not for him. He is in a far better place, where the fish are plenty and his basketball skills are dynamic (those senior faculty games were a hoot with him in them), and where there are no more tears, fears or sorrow. God bless you, Mr. Dixon.
Royse Dixon may not have been the smartest, may not have been the one with the most degrees, but in every way that mattered, he epitomized what it was to be a teacher. I treasured him as a teacher, mentor, and friend. He taught and knew the value of good work, as well as the need to never take yourself too seriously. Godspeed and good fishing, you old codger. I miss you and there will never be another like you.
I am sorry if you regulars expecting news views and politics are a little upset that I am taking the time to do this. Too bad...without Royse Dixon, there would be no drive to do this, there would be no drive to write, to inform. He was very special to me, and, because I missed his services, I needed some way to honor him.
