When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
the early years
James Fay Overley was born on March 10, 1938 in Rock Falls, IL, to Fay Seely Overley, who owned and operated a successful Standard Oil station in town, and Pearl Margaret Whaley, his homemaker wife. As a schoolboy, Jim worked at his father’s station after school pumping gas and washing car windows in the cold “until his fingers bled,” he liked to say. Back at home, one of his big brother duties involved irritating his two sisters, Janene and Diane, by swatting them with a tightly spun dish towel.
Active in the Methodist church and leader of the Methodist Youth Fellowship, Jim was pegged to become a preacher. Eventually the family built a new home on the Rock River where Jim distinguished himself by having many boating adventures of dubious safety. Following high school graduation in 1956, he entered Cornell College in Mt. Vernon, IA. On his higher educational pursuit, he reflected:
“In college I began as a philosophy major, but a paper my roommate wrote titled ‘The God Hypotheses’ made more sense to me than the ‘Doctrine of Original Sin.’ I changed my major to psychology since man seemed to be the inventor of religion. Later I earned my masters in genetics when it became evident that evolution invented man.”
Jim’s first job was as a student psychologist at East Moline State Mental Hospital where he was surprised at the recidivism rate and overwhelmed by the required paperwork. Two years later he was drafted into the U.S. Army and stationed at Wilkesberra, PA, as a psychologist administering tests to recruits. When he and his buddy Rog discovered evidence that their commander was erasing answers on the test to falsely enhance the scores of African American recruits and seal their fate, they reported their findings. It became apparent that Jim and Rog would remain PFCs for the duration. It wouldn’t be the last time Jim confronted authority or stood up for truth.
After the December 29th wedding of his sister Diane, in 1963, Jim hitch-hiked to New York City where he boarded a freighter ship to Copenhagen in the north Atlantic. Constantly seasick from 15 feet swells and frigid weather, he noted that some days the pins on the captain’s map never moved showing no progress whatsoever. The perilous trip took eleven days. From Copenhagen he delivered a Volkswagen to Munich, then hitchhiked throughout Europe and spent some memorable days with a French family in Nice. His worried mother welcomed him home after three months in the spring of 1964.
At this point his parents made it quite clear that he should settle down and pursue a career, so he headed to Northern Illinois University to seek a masters in genetics. With only a few undergraduate courses in physiology, he studied up on his own and got the highest GRE score ever at NIU without an undergraduate biology major.
married life
Jim met Rhea in the backyard of their respective graduate school housing at Northern the next summer. By fall, with Jim teaching Biology, Plant Growth and Development and Genetics at Mendota High School and Rhea teaching English at Larkin High School in Elgin, they began a long-distance relationship. They married in 1966. Their daughter, Liana, was born in 1967 after they settled in Mendota. Eventually Liana graduated from Jim’s undergraduate alma mater and became a successful business owner, wife to Thomas Allison, and mother to Larissa “Lara” and Thomas James “TJ” Allison. Sharing time together with them gave Jim much satisfaction.
As with most relationships, marriage to Jim was a balancing act . . .
lifelong teacher
Jim was a life-long teacher. His professional teaching career in Mendota lasted 30-plus years. He gave teaching his all, and former students still like to recall his dramatic teaching techniques as they related to scientific concepts like the “mighty mitochondria” (said vigorously with exposed and tightened muscle arms). Students loved it when he bounced off the lab tables, out the door and down the hallway . . . still lecturing on Brownian motion the whole way! And who could ever forget photosynthesis—a process he taught through a song he wrote called the “Stomata Hop.” Frequently requested by past students, the song became a minor internet sensation after his granddaughter recorded and posted it to YouTube years later.
To this day Jim is also known for his potentially career-limiting insistence on a science-based sex education curriculum in his biology classes—a legacy that earned him the honorable title of “Coach Overley” among his intrigued and appreciative adolescent students.
With his trademark blue ink on the tip of his tongue (an occupational hazard caused from wetting the tip of a marker as he passionately wrote and displayed lecture notes on the overhead projector), Jim was very instrumental in facilitating a love for biology and shaping healthcare and teaching careers for many students. As one former student, turned Mendota neighbor and fellow educator stated:
“Mr. Overley was one of my best teachers. When I headed down to ISU, biology was a review for me because of what he taught us. And we remembered it, because he made it memorable. He was a good friend to my husband at the beginning of his teaching career and a good neighbor to us too. He’d zip by in his truck, but find time to stop and talk, help us cut down a tree or chat about a million things. I had a six-year-old boy in gifted program that he took on as a mentee, and together we spent great days learning about important things like RNA and how to change the truck tires.”
Another student recalled how “excited he was to show us an actual heart and lungs from a cow . . . he would then proceed to blow into the trachea to inflate the lungs. What a hoot!”
One didn’t have to be a “science geek” to appreciate Mr. O’s approach to education . . . as another student reflected, “I was never much of a scientist, but Mr. Overley somehow instilled the fundamentals in me anyway,” adding, “A teacher’s passion for a subject is a remarkable thing.”
passionate hobbyist
In addition to teaching, there were many other interests, all of which Jim embarked upon with the typical gusto that epitomized this one-of-a-kind man of science. A pair of cockatiels grew into a large breeding flock of hand-fed cockatiels, parakeets and finches, a menagerie that soon expanded to include African Grey, Amazon and Blue and Gold Macaw parrots . . . much to Rhea’s dismay. The basement aviary and growing tropical fish hobby, complete with dozens of primarily hand-made flight cages and tanks, led to regular Saturday family sales runs into Aurora and Chicago pet shops, the proceeds of which financed Liana’s private liberal arts college education.
The Overleys lived a frugal, self-sustaining lifestyle heating their home with wood that Jim felled and split (with his octogenarian neighbor, Watson Bartlett), enjoying Jim’s homemade yogurt and fresh-baked bread (he not only baked it, but also cracked and milled his own wheat) and growing and processing garden produce—buckets of beans, kohlrabi, radishes, broccoli, lettuce, rhubarb, apples, pears, grapes, onions . . . the list (and the work) went on and on. One summer, much to his surprise, Jim won the “Garden of the Month” award—astonishing because he pretty much ignored the aesthetics of straight rows and had little concern for pulling weeds. He jokingly said that some years the committee members would drive through the alley to peek behind the fence at his raised garden beds and backyard agricultural endeavors and then run away in horror!
Upon retirement Jim became obsessed with woodworking—cabinetry, toy chests, dressers and desks for the grandchildren and a workstation, tables, and radiator covers for Tom and Liana’s home were the result of this self-taught pursuit (see scrapbook for photos of some of his work).
In like manner, without any formal education in investing, Jim jumped right into the market in the ‘80s when it was easy to be successful. It got less fun after three serious downturns over the years, but he made enough profit to be generous in contributing to dozens of causes that were close to his heart—from environmental and nature concerns, to anti-war activism, Christian Children’s Fund and various local agencies. For an inherently frugal man, the pleas for contributions seldom went unanswered. He also gave generously of his time, most notably by driving a young brain cancer victim and her family to Loyola appointments at least once a month for seven years.
a thinking man
Slightly less noteworthy (pardon the pun), Jim professed “musical imagination,” which is to say that, in spite of some pitch and rhythm problems, he adored music of most kinds and loved to sing lustily around the piano to Rhea’s accompaniment. Eventually he joined the Presbyterian church choir, where Rhea was the much-appreciated director for thirty-five years, and he became active in the church. In the post 9/11 context, a movement toward increased fundamentalism elevated his concern that global religious ideals, which once were easily dismissed as being simply benignly wrongheaded, were now in danger of threatening civilization. Jim joined a peace activist group, discovered the Unitarian Universalist (UU) faith and embraced a new church community that valued inclusivity, evidence-based learning and continuously seeking truth . . . all while still allowing him to sing hymns with gusto from the pews.
Joining the UU church was a great experience for both Jim and Rhea. Rhea found her home with the choir, and, for several years, Jim dedicated much of his thoughts and time to taping worthy TV shows on current topics and planning his early Sunday morning “EyeOpener” adult education sessions. When the switch to two services made that venue impossible, he still continued to record shows for possible discussion, just in case. It was a big loss for him.
Jim’s passion for peace led him to many of peace activist Kathy Kelly’s “Voices for Creative Non-violence” lectures. He even went to the School of the Americas with fellow peace activist David Stocker one summer to protest the United States’ teaching of torture techniques to Central and South Americans. He contributed proceeds from his annual garden produce sales at church to various peace-related and other social justice causes—today Jim’s Midwest-grown zucchinis help power solar lights in African operating rooms.
Jim Overley – MHS Teacher Spotlight with former student Steve Krampitz
loving grandfather
With all of his interests and pursuits, probably the biggest thrill of Jim’s life has been getting to know Liana and Tom’s children, Lara and TJ. What pleasure his grandchildren have given him! He was a consummate pretender with them in the attic cubbyhole he outfitted with carpet, tube LED lights and a doorbell. Hours flew by as they played Pet Shop, Shoe Store and Restaurant. It was the first place the kids headed when they arrived for a visit to “dota.”
In a Thanksgiving dinner prayer, Jim wisely said,
“We are grateful for our children in our lives and how they teach us about ourselves . . . and who they are as individuals. They will inherit the earth. It is up to us to teach them to see value in others, to learn justice, to share and be fair to everyone and how to find truth. They must not take others’ toys, for that leads to occupation and to not hit, for that leads to war . . . and that leads to more war.”
In addition to being a loving and imaginative grandpa, Jim was a:
- Loyal father and husband
- Dedicated teacher and life-long educator
- Frugal spender
- Ardent pacifist
- Generous contributor to worthy causes
- Creative woodworker
- Prolific gardener
- Fretful investor
- Reliable repairman
- Longtime fish and bird breeder
Though all notable qualities and somewhat eccentric interests, living in a marriage to Jim Overley was never exactly smooth sailing. Rhea found this reflection early on in the marriage and put it in a dresser drawer. During the rough times, she often sought it out as a reminder. It reads:
“How dear of him! I do love this man so. Often when I dwell upon the things I secretly berate him for – Why can’t you be a bon vivant? A glib conversationalist? A power to summon waiters instantly and get the best tables, conjure up cabs in the rain – often, as when we go to a party or he talks quietly in a corner instead of being the commanding Presence of my fantasy life, I realize the monumental dumbness of the fantasy. I could never live with any of the Commanding presences I know. How livable he is for me, this thoughtful, gentle, down-to-earth man. What I fanaticize about is all form. What he gives me is substance.”
It is that substance that we honor today.
