Drew Wheeler was one of Gerry’s students at Darien High School in the 1970s. After high school he remained in contact with her, and when he learned of her passing he wrote this tribute.

At Darien High, Geraldine Marshall taught me great works of literature from King Lear up to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Gerry’s class was as entertaining as it was challenging; she was brilliant and quick and she needed you to be, too. She didn’t need you to be clever–I once wrote her a clever paper and she handed it back to me with a poor grade and the terse evaluation, “Very amusing.” (Gerry was also the faculty advisor for the Darien High literary magazine, which I edited.)

I stayed in touch with her over the years; once we’d met for drinks in Manhattan–at the Algonquin, naturally. And when Tom Stoppard did a signing at Shakespeare & Co. in the ‘80’s, I had him inscribe a copy of Ros & Guil for Gerry.

Last summer a friend of hers who’d become in many ways her caregiver contacted me to say that she was in an assisted living facility and was suffering from dementia. I came to visit, and although her words had mostly left her, Gerry’s wit and smarts were clearly still there, in her eyes and her smile.

Once Gerry told me that when her career was over the last thing she wanted was some lachrymose, Goodbye, Mr. Chips-style sendoff, with rows of grateful students coming back to thank her. While I know that untold numbers of Darien High students certainly could come back to thank Gerry Marshall for bringing us into literature so deeply and indelibly, I’m glad that I was able to actually do it. Gerry Marshall, my favorite teacher, died on Feb. 11 at age 85.

Drew Wheeler
2/12/22

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Update March 2022
I received the following in an email from Drew.

Here is a second part to that Facebook posting, which I put up after I saw dozens of Gerry’s former students paying tribute to her:

I’ve seen neither the ’30s original nor the ’60s remake of Goodbye, Mr. Chips, so I have no idea if there really is a tear-jerking scene like Gerry Marshall described to me, where a succession of former students returns to thank and praise their beloved teacher.

But she certainly did say that it was something she definitely didn’t want, and when I visited her last fall I reminded her of it. “So all your students didn’t come back to thank you,” I said. “You just have me.” And she beamed me a knowing smile to say that she understood my wisecrack was meant with love.

But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Gerry Marshall’s students did come back, just not in the way she imagined. When I posted about her death, I had no idea who would care about her or remember her, I just wanted to express my feelings about my favorite teacher.

But your wonderful, thoughtful memories of Gerry have moved me more than I can say. I feel a closeness to all of you, as we were all so lucky to have been taught by this lovely, extraordinary educator and friend.

Back in the ’70s Gerry shuddered at all the emotion that would surface if her students got the chance to express their admiration and affection for her. Sorry, Ger, it happened anyway.