By Shelby Reynolds
Many knew him as the “Crispy Critter.”
Mike Dunlap, former journalism adviser at Blue Valley West and former Advanced Redesign instructor at the Flint Hills Publication Workshop, was always dressed to a T. His button-up shirts were starched and ironed. The crease in his khaki shorts had to be perfectly aligned. And walking out of the hotel room without the most pristine, flawless parted hair was considered a sin.
It’s hard not to think about what made Mike unique when colleagues are experiencing their first year at camp without him. Less than two weeks after the workshop ended last year, Mike died unexpectedly.
Amy DeVault first met Mike here at Kansas State University. He seemed well-dressed. Funny. Cute. DeVault remembers when she began teaching alongside Mike in the Advanced Redesign class at FHPW.
It was a few summers ago, and Mike was instructing his class in Kedzie 107 when the air conditioning suddenly quit. Temperatures reached into the 100s outside. Fifty student bodies piled in the room, 30 Mac computers generated enough heat to make the sweat pour.
“He just doesn’t sweat,” DeVault said. “Mike had to keep taking trips back up to his hotel room to change his clothes because he’d get a tiny bit sweaty. That’s just one of my funniest stories of him because it was so not Mike.”
Not only was Mike the most up-to-date man on fashion and style, he also knew his stuff when it came to journalism.
“He was always up on current trends,” said Jill Chittum, Blue Valley High journalism adviser and long time friend of Mike’s. “I feel like he was always asking, ‘Have you heard about this?’ or ‘What about this new thing we should try?’”
For Chittum and every other person who knew him, news of Mike’s death on Aug. 2, 2010, came as a huge shock. He was only 44. Chittum was in New Orleans for a workshop when she got the call. Desperate to be with others who knew Mike and his quirky personality, Chittum called a few of her Blue Valley students to express her grief.
“I think I was in shock for months,” she said, “and am still in shock about it.”
Now as fellow instructors and past students gather at FHPW, the absence of Mike is all the more real.
“Right at the beginning of this camp,” DeVault said, “was the hardest it had been all year. This was where I always hung out with Mike and this is where I taught with Mike. So that was really hard.”
Travis Feil, FHPW’s editorial leadership instructor, roomed with Mike last summer and had always admired his publication and teaching skills.
“He brought a ton of creativity to his students,” Feil said. “He allowed them to see their publication in a way they had never seen them before. He taught them to tell stories in a way that had never been told before. He inspired me to be that kind of teacher.”
Besides the technique, passion and style that Mike brought to the camp, perhaps the thing most colleagues will remember about him was his laugh.
“He had the best laugh,” Chittum said. “People could say that every single one of us could do it. It wasn’t a real giggly sort of thing. It was just this laugh.”
Shelby Reynolds is a senior at Wichita Northwest High School and a student in the advanced writing class.
Many knew him as the “Crispy Critter.”
Mike Dunlap, former journalism adviser at Blue Valley West and former Advanced Redesign instructor at the Flint Hills Publication Workshop, was always dressed to a T. His button-up shirts were starched and ironed. The crease in his khaki shorts had to be perfectly aligned. And walking out of the hotel room without the most pristine, flawless parted hair was considered a sin.
It’s hard not to think about what made Mike unique when colleagues are experiencing their first year at camp without him. Less than two weeks after the workshop ended last year, Mike died unexpectedly.
Amy DeVault first met Mike here at Kansas State University. He seemed well-dressed. Funny. Cute. DeVault remembers when she began teaching alongside Mike in the Advanced Redesign class at FHPW.
It was a few summers ago, and Mike was instructing his class in Kedzie 107 when the air conditioning suddenly quit. Temperatures reached into the 100s outside. Fifty student bodies piled in the room, 30 Mac computers generated enough heat to make the sweat pour.
“He just doesn’t sweat,” DeVault said. “Mike had to keep taking trips back up to his hotel room to change his clothes because he’d get a tiny bit sweaty. That’s just one of my funniest stories of him because it was so not Mike.”
Not only was Mike the most up-to-date man on fashion and style, he also knew his stuff when it came to journalism.
“He was always up on current trends,” said Jill Chittum, Blue Valley High journalism adviser and long time friend of Mike’s. “I feel like he was always asking, ‘Have you heard about this?’ or ‘What about this new thing we should try?’”
For Chittum and every other person who knew him, news of Mike’s death on Aug. 2, 2010, came as a huge shock. He was only 44. Chittum was in New Orleans for a workshop when she got the call. Desperate to be with others who knew Mike and his quirky personality, Chittum called a few of her Blue Valley students to express her grief.
“I think I was in shock for months,” she said, “and am still in shock about it.”
Now as fellow instructors and past students gather at FHPW, the absence of Mike is all the more real.
“Right at the beginning of this camp,” DeVault said, “was the hardest it had been all year. This was where I always hung out with Mike and this is where I taught with Mike. So that was really hard.”
Travis Feil, FHPW’s editorial leadership instructor, roomed with Mike last summer and had always admired his publication and teaching skills.
“He brought a ton of creativity to his students,” Feil said. “He allowed them to see their publication in a way they had never seen them before. He taught them to tell stories in a way that had never been told before. He inspired me to be that kind of teacher.”
Besides the technique, passion and style that Mike brought to the camp, perhaps the thing most colleagues will remember about him was his laugh.
“He had the best laugh,” Chittum said. “People could say that every single one of us could do it. It wasn’t a real giggly sort of thing. It was just this laugh.”
Shelby Reynolds is a senior at Wichita Northwest High School and a student in the advanced writing class.
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