The day Polly Pockets, My Little Ponies, and markers of various colors entered Bailey’s American survey is the day I realized I could be comfortable as a professional historian. In the mid-1990s I had the great privilege of being one of three teaching assistants for that class (Maria Quinlan Leiby and Manelissi Gengi were the other two), where we sat spellbound along with the undergrads as he delivered one fantastic lecture after another. One day his daughters, Jeanne and Lizzie, joined us, who were I believe in 4th and 1st grades and enjoying a no-school day. They were excited to be joining their Dad in his classroom but the adults all knew their presence was a childcare issue. Bailey (the grads just called him “Bailey”) sat them next to us in the front row, threw us one of those eyes-twinkling looks, and wished us luck. Big sister Jeanne took this college thing very seriously and proceeded to take notes on Dad’s lecture (her notes were much better than mine that day) while Lizzie decided it was time to play, “my toys are in school” and did so rather loudly. Within minutes, we were navigating coats needing to be unzipped, sibling snipes, toys tossed on the floor, spilled juice, rolled eyes, some exaggerated coughing, and a few episodes of students laughing at the commotion in that front row. And, Bailey never missed a beat. As we gathered up those coats to leave, he asked Jeanne what she had learned and she launched into a detailed account of the Second Great Awakening (scary smart this gal); then Lizzie presented her Dad with the newly named “College Polly,” who stayed in his hand as we all walked back to Morrill Hall. Professor Bailey navigated many things in his personal life but I hadn’t experienced how he managed it. Calm. The guy was brilliant and calm and absolutely devoted to his family. I’ve often reflected on that day when I’m having a tough day on campus (I’m a professor at Illinois State University), in the community (I’m an advocate for survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence) or at home (I’ve got a spouse and a 17-year-old). I’ve been fortunate to have many wonderful mentors in my life and I’ll forever be grateful to Bailey for teaching me that I could have a fulfilling professional life without sacrificing what I held dear: my family and friends. He encouraged us to BE with our families and friends rather than just talk about doing it, and he modeled that encouragement. Thanks to Bailey, I’m very comfortable with the multiple, colorful, and diverse roles I enjoy in my full life, and I thank his daughters for sharing him with his students. He was one of a kind.