I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Bob Shepherd. Bob is a professional writer, editor, graphics designer, and teacher. He has also worked in the design of assessments and curriculum. You have surely seen his many comments on this blog. He is a polymath.

A few months ago, I received a note from Bob offering to edit my new book as a gesture of appreciation for my work. I have never met a Bob except over the Internet. In 2006, he helped me with my book “The Language Police.” This time, he took on what turned out to be a nearly full-time job, reading, editing, suggesting better language, deleting my many superfluous commas, and so much more. He is a true professional. The book is now almost completely finished. I don’t know yet when it will be published and must wait to hear from my editor. I don’t even know the title. What I feel sure about is that it will change the landscape. My last ask to Bob was to request his reaction to several quotes that I wanted to use at the front of the book. He shared with me his laws of quotation and attribution. He said I could share them with you.

Just recently, Stephen Hillenburg died of ALS. He was the creator of SpongeBob Squarepants.

I loved SpongeBob for a couple of reasons. First, I watched SpongeBob videos with my grandchildren and we laughed together, inspired by SpongeBob’s relentless optimism. Second, I saw the Broadway show, “Spongebob Squarepants” and loved it–I saw it not once, but twice! The first time I wanted to see why it won 12 Tony nominations. The second time I took the grandchildren. It was the best musical I saw all season, the happiest, the most cheerful, the most inspirational, the most delightful, the wackiest. If the producers take it on tour, be sure to see it.

This is an article about the beginnings of SpongeBob Squarepants and Stephen Hillenburg’s creation of a fresh character, who is hopelessly optimistic and innocent.

I was touched by his death because in the last few years, two friends died of this dread disease: Vivian Connell, whose blog was posted here, about the progression of the disease and her determination not to let it define her. When NPE held its annual conference in Raleigh, N.C., a group of us–Bertis Downs, Phyllis Bush, Colleen Wood, and I– went to visit Vivian, an experience I will never forget. Bertis, a dear friend of Vivian, brought her a first edition of one of her favorite books, To Kill a Mockingbird.

And I also want to remember my friend Harold O. Levy, who was one of the best chancellors of the New York City public school system, who died only days ago of ALS. This is how I met Harold Levy. I wrote an op-ed criticizing some decision he made, and at 8 a.m. that morning, he called me at my home and invited me to his office. I dropped everything and went to meet him. We talked and became fast friends. How easy it is to bridge differences when you share a cup of coffee and a smile. That was Harold Levy.

As it happened, Valerie Strauss interviewed the writers of SpongeBob just a few years ago.

You will learn from her interview what advice SpongeBob offered on the subject of education.

In 1991, I received a phone call from Lamar Alexander inviting me to come to D.C. to talk about working in the U.S. Department of Education. I didn’t think I wanted to do it, but I was intrigued. So I flew to D.C., had lunch with Lamar and David Kearns, CEO of Xerox, and agreed to join them. Lamar had just been appointed Secretary of Education by President George H.W. Bush, and he invited David to be his Deputy Secretary. They invited me to become Assistant Secretary in charge of the Office of Research and Improvement and Counselor to the Secretary. I agreed.

Over the next 18 months, I had a wonderful job. Lamar and David were great to work with and for.

Skipping over lots of details, I had one extended visit with Barbara Bush. Her office invited me to fly with her to Houston and deliver a speech to a community group in her stead. We spent four hours together on Air Force 2, her private jet, with only one other person present, her PR woman.

I first met George H.W. Bush when Ronald Reagan was President and Bush was VP. About 25 educators were invited to a meeting in the Cabinet Room. I sat next to Vice President Bush, directly across from President Reagan. Reagan told funny stories and charmed the room. At one lull, I mentioned to VP Bush that my mother was worried about whether the Reagan administration would protect Israel. A week later, I got a photograph of those of us at the table. With it was a letter from President Reagan thanking me for my participation. There was a P.S.: “Please tell your mother I got her message,” That was the work of VP Bush. He paid attention.

When Bush was President, Lamar and David invited me to go with them one day to see the President. I jumped at the chance. He couldn’t have been nicer or more gracious. After the year that I had been in D.C., I had come to see that the best thing I could accomplish was to get some great photos (the Democratic Staff had already told me that nothing we proposed would be enacted). I sat across from the President with Lamar and David. I inched my chair closer, then closer. At some point, I was almost sitting at his side, behind his desk. He thought it was hilarious.

He was a decent man. He was honest. He was civil. He was conservative but not a crazy right winger. He was a good man.

Living at a time when the Republican Party has become completely subservient to a man who has no morals, no ethics, no scruples, I say this: I miss George H.W. Bush. I miss the kind of Republican he was. I pray that the scourge of Trumpism will soon disappear, and that what remains of the GOP rediscovers its spine, its soul, its ethics, and its brain.