For Beasley it's `family time'
Former BIS Principal Billy Beasley retires from BISD
By Cathy Krafve

"I knew it was time to retire when I couldn't beat a sixth grader at basketball," laughs Bill Beasley, the retiring Principal at Brownsboro Intermediate School, "I knew it was time to hang it up."

Beasley came to the Brownsboro School District after a three-year stint with the Boy Scouts of America as a district executive.

"I loved what I was doing, but in order to advance, I had to transfer. I didn't want to leave East Texas," says Beasley. He began looking for a job that would allow him to stay close to home.

The former high school basketball stand-out, son of Ednar and Tabby Beasley, grew up in Chandler. He attended Fisher High School in Athens, making All-State two years in basketball.

It was in college at Prairieview A&M, as a Health and PE major, that his path first crossed with Delores, his wife of 37 years. As a basketball player, he and his buddies arrived to the cafeteria after the other students because the athletes were required to eat last.

One day, as he and four of his friends arrived for lunch, Beasley issued this challenge; they should try to sit with the prettiest girls in the cafeteria.

After surveying the whole room filled with students, Beasley found a seat right next to Delores.

"She wouldn't even give me the time of day," says Beasley now, with a chuckle remembering the first time he saw her.

Not to be deterred, he proceeded to take ice right out of her ice tea and put it down the back of her shirt. "She screamed and ran out," says Beasley. For awhile, every time he saw her, she would avoid him. Finally, he figured out that if he wanted to see her there was one place where she was sure to be; the library. An excellent student, Delores was

regular at the library. Even an apology failed to sway her.

Beasley thinks it was his love letters from Vietnam where he served thirteen months as a young soldier that finally won her heart.

It was Vietnam that taught him that race did not have to be an issue. As soldiers, the men he served with, no matter their diverse background, had "the same desires and the same fears," according to Beasley. He learned to persevere. He learned to pay attention to the real things that happen in other people's lives.

They were lessons that have served him well as an educator. Sometimes, as an educator, he knew he needed to help his students, but he did not know how. He often had to follow his heart and figure it out as it happened.

For instance, there was the day a young student came to school disheveled. time he saw her, she would avoid him. Finally, he figured out that if he wanted to see her there was one place where she was sure to be; the library. An excellent student, Delores was a regular at the library. Even an apology failed to sway her.

Beasley thinks it was his love letters from Vietnam where he served thirteen months as a young soldier that finally won her heart.

It was Vietnam that taught him that race did not have to be an issue. As soldiers, the men he served with, no matter their diverse background, had "the same desires and the same fears," according to Beasley. He learned to persevere. He learned to pay attention to the real things that happen in other people's lives.

They were lessons that have served him well as an educator. Sometimes, as an educator, he knew he needed to help his students, but he did not know how. He often had to follow his heart and figure it out as it happened.

For instance, there was the day a young student came to school disheveled.

"I jumped all over her, not knowing. I asked her where her mother was," he says of the incident that happened over twenty years ago.

It turned out that her father and step-mother had abandoned her the day before and she had spent the night under someone's house, just hiding out until school started. Beasley found out from the girl that her mother lived in New Mexico. He asked the student if she wanted him to call her mother.

"She broke down crying," says Beasley who tracked down a phone number to reach the mother who was a Native American and lived on a reservation.

When he called the mother, she told him, "Mr. Beasley, I want my daughter more than anything." So he put her on a bus to New Mexico and made arrangements with the mother to pick her up.

A week later, he got a post card from New Mexico that read, "Thank you for getting me home. I appreciate everything you did for me. Tell Mr. Teague (who had helped pay for the bus ticket) thank you, too."

Several years went by, then, one day, Beasley received another letter.

"Dear Mr. Beasley, I know you don't remember me, but I am the girl you put on the bus. I was able to get a scholarship funded by the Native American association and I just graduated from Arizona State. I want to say thanks to you again."

Remembering his former student, Beasley says, "It was so real. I didn't know what to do but I knew I had to do something."

Intending to keep life real has influenced his leadership style over the years.

"Keep staff family," is how Beasley describes his approach. "If there's a death, we all mourn. If there's a birth, we all rejoice. Always support one another."

Asked about what his retirement will mean to him, Beasley replies with a grin, "I want to repent," referencing his eagerness to have the time to focus on his relationship with God and refocus his attention on his family. He is the father of four children and grandfather to three granddaughters. He says he is looking forward to be "more of a father, a grandfather, and a brother.

He is also looking forward to having more time for church, travel, and "winning at dominoes." He adds, "sure, that tractor is gonna be attractive, " but he will still find time to come check on his friends around the Brownsboro School District and help out where he can.