This is going to be very, very difficult to write. The tears are already welling up in my
eyes, much as they have been since I heard the terrible news this weekend.
Friday night, the world lost one of the greatest people I
have ever known: the incomparable Dr. Billy Helms. He served as the head of the Economics, Finance, and Legal
Studies department at the University of Alabama for many years. But more importantly, he has served as my
mentor for the last five years.
Of course, I had no idea how much he would mean to me when
we met my freshman year. For those
of you who didn’t know me then, or who might’ve forgotten, let me sum up
freshman Stephanie in one word: lost. I started at Alabama as a chemical
engineering major; after all, I wasn’t going to let a little thing like hating
chemistry and engineering stand in my way! I didn’t enjoy my classes, my professors, or (to be frank)
my fellow students. The stress
built up so much that one engineering professor sent me to see a psychologist
at the counseling center just months into my first semester.
Second semester, I didn’t sign up for a single engineering
class. I got a letter from the
school of engineering saying I would lose my extra scholarship money if I
didn’t rectify the situation, but I could not have cared less. I was free!
Just one tiny problem… I no longer had a major, or even a
college. The College of Arts &
Sciences sounded unrestrictive enough for me, so I made an appointment to be
advised. I felt like such a sheep,
a number, nothing more than another 15-minute obligation on someone’s
calendar. I left my appointment feeling
defeated and more lost than ever.
Then one day, I realized I kind of enjoyed my required
microeconomics class. Since
I’d already given up on Arts & Sciences, I figured I might as well talk to
somebody in the College of Commerce & Business Administration. One fateful day, I made my way to the
third floor of Alston Hall for the first time; walked into the Economics, Finance,
and Legal Studies office; and asked to speak to somebody about majoring in
economics. That was the day I met
Dr. Helms.
I wasn’t handed a pamphlet or asked to make an appointment
for a later date. Dr. Helms, with
that incredibly warm smile of his, welcomed me into his office right then and
there. I don’t remember exactly
how long I stayed, but I know I walked out with the next three years of my
academic life planned for me.
Dr. Helms and his not so “invisible hand” (he was a finance
guy, after all) started guiding me then, and I happily accepted the
direction. I can’t even begin to
guess how many times I went to visit his third floor office after that. Sometimes I would go by just to
chat. Other times to get advised (under
the table) so I wouldn’t have to go to talk to some stranger in Bidgood.
Sometimes I would go to complain about how hard a course was and how I was
going to fail (or, just as bad, get a B).
He would listen patiently for a minute or two before he told me how
ridiculous I was being, how easy the course was, and how I was much too smart
to be challenged by the courses I complained about.
I could do anything because Dr. Helms believed in me. He pushed me to be the best; he made me
my best. He is the reason I
majored in economics and added a second major in math. He never could quite convince me to go
the finance route or to be a University Scholar (get my bachelor’s and master’s
degree concurrently), but let it be known that he tried. And he got his way when it came to most
of the courses I took from sophomore year through grad school.
Every year, Dr. Helms hosted an honors barbecue in his
backyard for all the top economics and finance students. It was always one of my favorite days
of the year. My senior year, I was
one of four Austin Cup scholars; I was top student for the Economics and
Finance Department, and the other three scholars were the top students in their
departments. As if that honor
wasn’t enough, I was named the winner of the Austin Cup for top student in the entire
business school. I’m not being
modest when I say that Dr. Helms is the reason I won that award. He nominated me, and I know he fought
for me. He was so proud when he handed me that award,
and I was so thankful. As I walked away from the podium with
my ridiculous trophy, he commented that there would be pictures later because,
“We want to be famous someday because we are associated with you.” I loved that man.
Just a few weeks after that barbecue was the tornado that
ravaged Tuscaloosa. My community
was devastated, and my senior year came to an abrupt end. I’d somehow neglected to make any solid
post-graduation plans myself, but luckily Dr. Helms had convinced me to apply
for graduate school at Alabama. He
also nominated me for a Graduate Council Fellowship that allowed me to go to
graduate school for free with an unbelievable stipend.
In summary, he is the reason I have a bachelor’s
degree. He is the reason I have a
master’s degree. He is the reason
I have a career. To say that I owe
him a lot is a gross understatement; I owe him everything.
My story is not unique. In fact, my little brother Scotty was lucky enough to follow
in my footsteps and have Dr. Helms’ guidance for the last three years. (Dr. Helms even convinced him to one-up
me by getting his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in four years). And Scotty and I are just two of the
thousands of students who Dr. Helms impacted. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I never felt
like one of thousands. He always
made me feel special and instilled so much confidence in me. I’m so sad for the students who won’t
have that support now that he’s gone.
I was fortunate enough to go back to Tuscaloosa in April
with Mom and Scotty for one last barbecue (my fifth) at Dr. Helm’s house. He only gave out two awards that night,
but he made sure to call me out in front of the entire crowd when another
student won this year’s Austin Cup.
I was so glad to be there to see him and tell him all about my job and
just talk to him one last time. Of
course, I didn’t know it would be the last time. And he was so full of life, as always, that I never could’ve
guessed it would be the last time.
I am so angry at cancer for taking him away far too
soon.
But I am determined to carry on his legacy somehow. I know he’s always with me, and I just
hope to make him proud. I’d like
to think that all he’d want is for me to live a happy life, but who am I kidding? He has much higher expectations than
that.
I’ll miss you, Dr. Helms. Forever. Thank
you.
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| With my mentor. April 7, 2011 |
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| He was so happy and proud for my honor. Of course, he is the one who deserved to be honored. |
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| Dr. Helms will always be family. |
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| Always proud of his Austin Cup winners. And he demanded that he and I be in the center of this picture. <3 April 5, 2013 |
