A Tribute to Eve Dowell

We are gathered here this evening to honor the memory of Eve Dowell. On Monday morning, Eve was taken away from this community way too soon. We lost a daughter, a sister, aunt, friend, excellent teacher, and an outstanding mother. Unlike many of you, I did not have the opportunity to know Eve personally. But, I was able to have one interaction with her that occurred earlier this year at a BCHS football game. My family and I went to the game and my daughter Natalie ran up to Tara and me begging, "Daddy, daddy, daddy, may I please get my face painted?" We walked over towards the lady who was doing the face painting, introduced ourselves, and found out that her name was Eve and that she was the computer teacher at HES. Eve sat Natalie down and painted a very pretty paw print on her face. And then Natalie looked up at me, beaming from ear to ear, and said, "Do you like my paw print?" Natalie was glowing. So, I took her picture, put it on Facebook and, as a result, many people started commenting on the beautiful picture of my daughter. 

I tell that story because it was Eve's hand that painted the paw print that allowed my daughter to shine. Eve touched Natalie, and as a result, she shone brightly. This one interaction is so telling of what Eve did day after day, week after week, year after year as a teacher. She would touch children, she would pour herself into children, she would care for children, and she would hurt when they were hurting, she would make children laugh, and she would have parents doing whatever behind the scene efforts were necessary to make sure that their son or daughter had her in class. Eve cared about her kids. She would make sure that kids without shoes had shoes. She would go out of her way to do something silly so that the kids who were sad had a reason to laugh. Giggles and smiles were plenty when Eve was around. See, Eve touched my daughter once and my daughter benefited from that. But, the impact and the magnitude of Eve caring for students day-after-day-after-day for the past 24 years are immeasurable. Many of you are here today because you were one of those kids in her classroom or you are the parent of a child who had her class. You are better, your child is better, we are better because of Eve Dowell. 

So tonight, we come to grieve and to mourn. But dare I say that we also are here to celebrate her impact, her care, her laughter, her silliness, and even her ability to push boundaries. Right, Mr. Parker? I mean, after all, how many times can a teacher get away with wearing blue jeans? Speaking of Eve's silliness, when we were at the funeral home on Tuesday, sweet Emma Gayle, the apple of her mother's eye, was asked, "Emma, what was one of your mom's favorite songs?" Emma giggled and said, "Oh, my mommy loved 'Your momma don't dance and your daddy don't rock-n-roll." And we all laughed. And from what I understand, a woman who deeply loved her daughter, her family, her friends, and who knew life was worth dancing over, well, that was Eve Dowell.


There's a passage in the New Testament where a group of little children wanted to see Jesus, and the disciples, believing the children of little worth, told the children not to bother Jesus. But Jesus looked at the disciples, strongly reprimanded them, and said, "Let the little children come to me." Scripture says that, "Jesus took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them." We lost Eve on Monday morning, but I also think that another event took place at that time. I believe Eve opened her eyes, looked at Jesus, and was received with a great big hug. Why? Because Eve did exactly what Jesus wanted her to do every day of her life; she let the little children come to her. She actually physically performed the actions of Christ in her classroom; she would take kids into her arms, give them hugs, touch them like she touched my Natalie, and in essence, they would be blessed. Eve, probably without realizing it, was a walking, talking example of Jesus. And, based upon the conversations I have had regarding Eve, I know that she would encourage the teachers in this room to keep doing the same; keep influencing, keep teaching, keep rescuing, keep encouraging, keep fighting for the children in your classrooms.

The next days, weeks, months, and years are going to hurt as you grieve the passing of Eve. When her memory comes to mind, cry it out. But then, come together and tell funny stories about Eve until you find yourself laughing so much it hurts. Also remember to exercise a rebellious silly streak every now and then. And lastly, no matter what, whether it be to “Shake it off” or “All About that Bass” or “Your Momma Don’t Dance and Your Daddy Don’t Rock N’ Role,” make sure you dance.