Marcus R McClanahan Memorial Scholarship

Marcus R. McClanahan was a witty, hard-working, self-made man, who passed peacefully in Rapid City, South Dakota on October 21, 2022. Friends and family have established a memorial scholarship in Marc’s name to further his legacy of learning and education for first-generation students.

Marc was born in Logan County, on the Eastern Plains of Colorado, a special place that Walt Whitman thought: “expresses, certainly awakes, those grandest and subtlest element-emotions in the human soul.”

His ancestors settled in Sterling, near where the North and South Platte converge on toward the Missouri River and where the Oregon Trail and Overland Stage Route diverge west for California and Colorado gold.

Marc had a remarkable work ethic, instilled partly by his mom’s family, Germans from the Volga River who fled Russia after Marc’s grandfather was conscripted to fight in the Russo-Japanese War and survived a sword slash across the back. They were strangers in a strange land, one that not too long before had been the locus quo of explorers, trappers, traders, and unsettling war and Indian massacres. As Germans from Russia, they were pegged low on the social ladder and overcame the scorn felt in their new surroundings by idealizing work and adopting the saying: “Work rendered life sweet” (Arbeit macht das Leben süss).

The family’s labor guaranteed big profits for the Great Western Sugar Company, who recruited Volga Germans to take advantage of their large families and reap the benefits of their reputation for unrivaled work ethic. Marc’s mom and her 13 siblings worked the beet fields, keeping the sugar plants processing and puffing away the rooty fodder. Marc’s other ancestors had come early to the Plains, from Tennessee, but Marc’s grandfather passed at 34, leaving Ray, Marc’s dad and another hard worker, without a father from the young age of 4.

Like his family and many of his generation, Marc held many jobs from a young age to make ends meet. He started a lawn and gardening business for town folk, like Dr. Tripp and his wife, who taught him to cultivate dahlias, gladiolas, and cox combs, earning 35 cents an hour. He secured a summer job with the City of Sterling Street Department, a major break where he made more than $1 an hour, about $10.36 today. He gained all sorts of experiences, such as answering constituent calls, painting, paving, counting cars, moving snow, and driving various trucks to haul sand and gravel. He especially loved driving the trucks: 1-3-ton Studebakers, Chevys, and Fords.

Marc decided early to pursue teaching, perhaps recognizing the skills he gained helping raise four younger brothers. He also learned lessons by serving as Sunday School Secretary, where he attended meetings with the head teacher and was introduced to principles he followed throughout life; he said “This is where my dedication to inclusion started. We had some handicapped students, and they were kept with their peers.”

Marc’s inclination to bootstrap stemmed also from the resilience he saw his close uncle display in bouncing back from polio. Uncle Jake, crippled from polio since age four, remained undaunted, chin up, smile bright, with a focus on his strengths, despite paralysis from the waist down. For example, Jake got hand controls that would let him accelerate and brake a car using his hands. Marc was not sure how or why he became Jake’s driver’s ed teacher. On their first go, while Marc was not paying attention, Jake decided the hand controls were not for him. Jake tried to brake with his foot. It did not work; they ran it in the ditch. Marc got the car back on the road while Jake lamented “I should never have thought I could drive, what a waste of money on hand controls - I will never drive again.” Marc reframed it as a walk-or-drive decision. Jake could walk a mile on crutches or take a short drive home. Jake drove home; and for many years thereafter.

Thus began Marc’s life work as a teacher and helping others. Though unprepared, and with limited support or encouragement from his parents, he strived for education. Neither parent had finished high school and given their constant work, they had no time for music and arts (save church), sports, or other hobbies. Not surprisingly, then, the student yearbook was devoid of such for Marc. He realized that he was a child of poverty, who lived for years with a family of seven in a 575-square-foot house with neither city water nor sewer. He did not see let alone know many ropes. When a senior, English class was designated as advanced and not. He was not. His friends were.

No woe, distress, or obstacle would stop him, however, even when Marc’s grandmother said there was no way he could go to college because the cost was beyond their means. Marc had established a savings account shortly after his first yard job and was able to pay to attend Northeastern Junior College as his high school grades were far too low to merit any scholarship.

His performance at NJC was very different than high school. One reason was the library where he could study in respite from the cramped 2-bedroom house. He excelled. He became part of the Student Governing Body, was elected President of the Student Education Association, and inducted into scholastic honor societies. He received a second-year scholarship from the Rotary Club to continue to put himself through school. Notably, he achieved these results after a major injury at work; while sweating away on the paving crew, he fell off the roller and was run over by it, busting his pelvis on both sides. After months of recovery, he managed to finish 6th in his class, graduating NJC in 1961.

He was one of two NJC students to receive a scholastic scholarship to Western State University in Gunnison, Colorado. The engine on his parent’s car had blown up, so Marc loaned them money to buy a different car so they could get him to Western. 

After earning his bachelor’s degree at Western in 1963, he landed his first teaching job in Rawlins, Wyoming, which was growing rapidly from the uranium boom. He got a convertible Plymouth Fury with a big V-8 and headed to California to teach for a year, meeting Frank, who became a dear, life-long friend. He loved school so much he enrolled in summer school at the University of Northern Colorado to earn a master’s degree, in 1966, in Elementary Education, rather than taking summers off.

Marc came back to Rawlins for his first principalship, overseeing multiple schools. He also met Joyce there. She was just starting her first year of teaching. He always said his best decision in life was proposing to Joyce. They would be married for more than 50 years. Marc and Joyce built a family and a group of friends, enjoying church, fishing, camping, gathering wood, traveling a bit, and completing many home renovations. He worked hard to give his kids and others experiences he never had.

Marc went on to serve in other public schools across Wyoming, including Riverton, Lander, Sundance, and Torrington. He held many leadership positions including principal, curriculum director, assistant superintendent, special education director, and consultant. He led early information technology installations and secured many federal grants.

Schools lucky enough to grab him always got better. Teachers thrived and improved under his direction, or they were let go. He was not out to win popularity contests, nor was buddy-buddy his style. Marc minced no words. Paramount was the best interest of every student, as well as accountability. Marc helped everyone learn and empowered people to overcome obstacles and grow. He was always well organized and left nothing undone – he was a finisher. You knew if he liked you when you were the subject of his ribbing or sarcasm, which he got from his dad, who was gregarious and an excellent driver and skilled operator of heavy machinery.

Marc’s last and probably favorite job lasted over a decade. After retiring to the Black Hills with Joyce, he became super-nanny extraordinaire for his grandchild, Michael. This included reading and re-reading thousands of books, many trips to Jerry’s Donuts, Storybook Island, dance and piano lessons, the library, and Culver’s. During retirement, he read voraciously, walked as much as possible, and assembled an amazing binder with many stories about his family and life.