It was 1991, and I was a freshman living at Clark Kerr, dorms for UC Berkeley. I'd been at college for about 4 months and, as usual, I was eating dinner at Clark Kerr's DC (dining commons). Walking down the stairs from the third floor of Building 3 with friends (Denise, Sean, Carina, Ethan, and Samir, if I recall correctly), I once again noticed the beautiful sunset from the stairwell window, and wondered idly how cool it would be to take a picture of the sun setting over San Francisco every day, as a journal of sorts.

Of course, digital cameras weren't around in 1991, so that didn't happen.

We went to the DC and got our food (always heavy on the starch, as pasta was the only dietary constant (well, and soda, but that shouldn't count)). The five of us walked to the tables, found an empty one. Long tables with chairs on either side, think hogwarts, but with the tables turned 90 degrees, and an aisle down the center. The room used to be a chapel.

We had only been eating for a minute when a well-dressed Asian gentleman of modest stature walked up to our table, stood at the head, and asked if he might join us. After we happily agreed, he pulled up a chair, set down his own dinner tray, and sat at the head of the table.

He asked us in his strong accent how we enjoyed our classes, what we liked and didn't like about the university, and listened to our own conversations. You could tell that he really cared about what we were saying, and I for one was as honest as I could be when telling him what I thought was good about Cal, and what could be better. Having been in college only a few months, it was probably the first time I really sat down and thought about that question.

Having spent far more time listening than talking, he finished his dinner before us. He thanked us kindly, shook our hands, and excused himself. Once he'd left the hall the others looked at each other and shrugged. "What do you think that was about?" Denise and I looked at each other. We realized we were the only ones who knew. I assumed everyone did. "That was Chancellor Tien" I said. Tien had only just the year before become Berkeley's seventh chancellor. Incidentally Clark Kerr, for whom my dorm was named, was the first.

Tien was immensely approachable. While chancellor, he still taught classes and mentored graduate students in mechanical engineering. The students loved him. They loved that he went to every football game, often standing in front of the student section, leading cheers by shaping "C" "A" "L" grandly with his arms. It seemed no coincidence that we made it to #9 in the AP poll that year. Tien's trademark "GOBEYAH!" ("go bears!") was such an inspiration that to this day Karen and I use it as a Cal rally cry.

And so it was with a heavy heart that I heard tonight that Chang-Lin Tien passed away on Tuesday, from complications related to the stroke and brain tumor that had debilitated him for the last year. Chancellor Tien was what every administrator should hope to be; not a lackey to the higher administration (ahem, Regents), but an advocate of the educational process, and the students.

Chancellor Tien's memorial service will be in Zellerbach Hall on Thursday, November 14th, from 3pm to 4pm. I wish I could be there. If you were a Cal student while Tien was chancellor, and valued his presence, I hope that you'll bid him farewell, as I know I will from the opposite coast.

Thank you, Chang-Lin, for your dedication, caring, and overall excellence. Thank you for listening, and wherever you are, I bid you a hearty GOBEYAH!