Jim Bovinet

Last night I received news that my friend, Jim Bovinet, passed away. Jim and I were in the doctoral program together, and he welcomed me into his home and his family early in the program. Over a three year span, I spent many evenings hanging out with him, his wife, Judi, and his two boys. There was always plenty of food and loads and loads of beer. They were part of my critical support structure. I’m not sure we would have survived the program had we not had each other to lean on.

Prior to going back to school, Jim ran a liquor store and played in a band. He quit all of that so that he could raise his boys. Behind the beer guzzling, bandana toting, intimidating personality was this gentle giant. He was kind, compassionate, brilliant and ridiculously hardworking. He was very direct. In fact, he was unnervingly direct. I always sought his advice and wisdom and he never told me what I wanted to hear, but always what I needed to hear. Maybe the fact that he was almost a dozen years old than me, and that I was the baby of the program helped us build a special bond. Maybe I was the kid brother he never had…

Jim was a dedicated educator and a brilliant mind. Over the years I lost touch with him, but I met up with him about a decade ago at a conference in Vegas at the craps tables — purely by accident. It was just like the good old days. We picked up exactly where we had left off. That’s the beauty of unpretentious friendships. We did have a beer (and it wasn’t the cheap stuff either). We had a brief but special time that day. And that’s how I always want to remember Jim — larger than life, beer in hand, big smile.

Jim, I will miss you my friend…