David was an active and wonderful member of the Live and Learn experiences in Erie, PA. David was a "people" person and did everything he could to establish bridges between people and cultures. His knowledge and expertise in the area of Civil War history was phenomenal. He bacame and a part of us and we of him. He will never be forgotten.

Dr. Dixon was such an amazing teacher and it was because of him that I finished my Masters at SRU. After I moved and found a job, I still had to finish my thesis tograduate. He kept on me until I did everything to complete my degree. Without his dedication and persisatnce I may not have finished the program. Thank You Dr. Dixon and God Bless.

Dr. Dixon was an amazing man and someone whom I learned more from than I dreamed possible. Being a student of his only fueled my passion for history. I truly feel honored to be able to say I knew and learned from this man.

I never knew Dr. Miller personally, however his reputation is well known in various historical circles. His passing is a great loss to historians everywhere.

I was questioning whether returning to school for my masters was a good idea when I walked into Dr. Dixon's class for the first time. By the end of the class I was sure I had made the right choice. He was a wonderful teacher and mentor. I will miss him terribly for selfish reasons. I will miss him helping me with my thesis that he didn't think I could write. I will miss him when I go to take my orals, and he is not there to make me laugh when I will be so nervous I will want to cry. And I miss him each time I think of a book he suggested that I forgot to write down or question I know he would be able to answer. I hope that some day my students will look back on my life with the same admiration and love that so many of Dr. Dixon's students do. Thank you Dr. Dixon.

I can honestly say Dr. Dixon was my favorite professor at SRU. More than that, he was a mentor. I had the experience of taking several of Dr. Dixon's classes and he never stopped surprising me. He challenged us in ways he knew would support us down the road. He was rigorous, but treated us as if we were his children. His attitude inside and outside of the classroom was always positive and I think people were drawn to him because of that. Even while student teaching, I stopped in to seek the advice and support of Dr. Dixon. This man was true blue and he will be missed!

Dr. Dixon was an amazing person!!! He was a great mentor and friend to many. When things didn't quite work out the way you had planned, he was always there to encourage you!! Dr. Dixon was so supportive and willing to go the extra mile for anyone. I think that as a student we all loved him for his honesty and admired him for his brilliance. We all sought him out for his scholarly and worldly wisdom. For those who knew him the loss is felt everyday and stands in comparison to the loss the nation felt when it lost JFK!!! This day will forever scar our hearts. May our memories console us!!

I am a Civil War buff and Lincoln admirer and just loved talking 19th Century history with David Dixon. His knowledge and enthusiasm impressed me every time. Any time I asked him a question, not matter how vague, he supplied an answer. A professor like this cannot be replaced. RIP. Gordon Ovenshine

I remember Dr David Dixon for his smile. I was a student of Davids in 1994, I loved the man as one of lifes GENTLE-men. Ever warm and fun. I only had the chance to study and learn form a man of great wisdom for four months and was ever hopeful to return one day to learn more, my sadness is that now it will not happen, I am even more sad that the students of SRU will not now have the chance to experience the thrill,fun and vast learning experience of one of Dr Daves 'discussions' as his classes where a learning experience for every one, even though he was far more knowledgeable than any of us he always give the impression he was getting as much form the 'discussion' as any one in the room. my thoughts go to his family and the great loss of such a warm and happy man. if i every get round to studying for my Phd it will be on the American civil war because of the inspiration of Dr Dixon. I will now light another cigarette and think of you Dr Dave. love ken

I remember Dr David Dixon for his smile. I was a student of Davids in 1994, I loved the man as one of lifes GENTLE-men. Ever warm and fun. I only had the chance to study and learn form a man of great wisdom for four months and was ever hopeful to return one day to learn more, my sadness is that now it will not happen, I am even more sad that the students of SRU will not now have the chance to experiance the thrill,fun and vast learning experiance of one of Dr Daves 'discussions' as his classes where a learning experinace for every one, even though he was far more knowlagaable than any of us he always give the impression he was getting as much form the 'dicusiion as any one in the room. my thoughts go to his family and the great loss of such a warm and happy man. if i every get round to studying for my Phd it will be on teh American civil war because of the inspertion of Dr Dixon. I will now light another ciggertte and think of you Dr Dave. love ken

Dr. Dixon was, in a rather bland way of putting it, my idol. He made history my passion by bringing to life the individuals and events involved. No armchair historian could possibly ever hope to do that. Brilliant.

-------------------------------------TO THE FORMER STUDENTS, COLLEAGUES, AND FRIENDS OF DAVID DIXON IN THE HISTORICAL COMMUNITY-------------- ----------I CALL FOR YOUR HELP. Most of you know about the article Dr. Dixon wrote in “Pennsylvania History” titled “A High Wind Rising.” I, as I am sure many of you do as well, believe that his research regarding Washington’s survival at Fort Necessity has the possibility to change how this event is understood. His findings that IndiaAN ATTEMPT TO FURTHER DR. DIXON'S WORK in "A High ns played a critical role in the French decision to accept Washington’s surrender – thereby saving the life of America’s foremost hero – needs to become part of public memory. TO HONOR DR. DIXON’S MEMORY, we must work toward this goal. Personally, I am going to try and present it at conferences. I urge those of you who are high school teachers to fight to get this story added to as many school curriculums as possible, and not just in your own classes and school districts. To those of you who have moved on to doctoral work or have already received a Ph.D, I urge you to convince your colleagues of the validity of David Dixon’s argument. More research into this event will most likely have to be done if this dream is to become reality. But, we owe it to the man who supported us, mentored us, and helped us become the historians we are today. CONTACT ME if you are interested, for this must be an organized effort.

I entered SRU's History Graduate program with, at the best ambivalence. After four years at Allegheny College, I was skeptical of the level of relationship and type of relationships I would have with SRU’s professors. Although I did not have Dr. Dixon as a professor until my second semester, after my first class with him I realized that not all the good professors are at small schools. I might be the only one that thinks there is a difference between calling someone doctor or professor. To me, Dr. only refers to someone that has their Ph.D, while a professor is a teacher, a friend, and most of all – a mentor. Although we all called Dave “Dr. Dixon” (in my opinion because of its alliteration affect,) every student that has passed through one of his class knows in their heart that this man is the very definition of what a professor should be. What always struck me most was Prof. Dixon’s love of the study of history. He was always open to new ideas and ways of looking at things. His eagerness to both teach and learn was contagious. While Prof. Dixon was of course always the most knowledgeable person in the room, he always gave opinions put forward as just as valid as his outlook. Another thing separating him from other professors was that he always seemed to have a personal story – especially when talking about American Indian issues. Whether or not it was a tale of taking part in the AIM movement, or a yarn about working with Indians during his steel worker days, David was always able to personalize their plight, tear away preconceptions, and most importantly remind us that both Indians and “Americans” are humans; and humans are capable of cruel and savage acts. In an age when the pressure forces teachers to feed their students the political correct narrative where the noble American Indian was brutalized by the “evil Americans,” David Dixon stood up (and in my mind did so without even thinking that it was in any way bold) and taught us that yes whites took advantage and abused natives for hundreds of years; but Indians were in no way innocent victims. His teaching racially changed the way I viewed American and Indian relations. Coming from a very liberal college, I was taught – and believed – that Indians were innocents. I don’t want anyone to take this rambling the wrong way. David Dixon cared more for the plight of the American Indian more than any person I have ever known. However, he imparted in me that these events took place in a savage world. Also, he changed the way in which I thought of the word “savage.” His incredibly visual tales of acts of scalping by both Indians and American soldiers convinced me that all of these historical actors were savage. Our government acted savagely, and Indian tribes responded with savage actions as well. I guess I am trying to say that David Dixon taught me to not think ethnocentrically in a historical way. Although I never talked with him about it, I think that he learned from us just as we did for him. I will always be thankful for his demands to be original in our writings. At the heart of his teaching style was the desire in impart in his students not just the course material; but also a life-long joy of historical learning – for which David Dixon gave us the tools to create our own opinions instead of simply taking away the author’s view. This reminds me of days when our class would discuss one of David’s books. I think he enjoyed these classes the most. Other professors I’ve had in my life assigned their own books to – in my opinion – hear their students praise him/her. This was never the case with Prof. Dixon. He loved it when a student would rip into one of his books with both passion and valid arguments. Of course, doing so would always result in a solid ribbing, for which David was famous among his students. His easy going nature and the constant joking with his students is something that always made attending his class the highlight of my week. My biggest regret is that I did not pick Prof. Dixon’s brain for all that it had in it. I’m jealous of all of you former students which had more time to learn from this great teacher. For me, what made conversations with Prof. Dixon enthralling is that it seemed that he always had a story to tell about something he saw or took part in. The first one that comes to mind is about is experiences at Washita. I found it amazing that my professor was hired by the park service to find a lost battlefield. The image from this long story which I’m sure some of you remember is his discovery of the location of the horse massacre that occurred there, where amazingly some of the sun bleached bones were still visible on the open plains. I know that there are hundreds of stories like this one that I will now never be able to hear. Future Slippery Rock students have received a great loss without even knowing it. They will never be able to experience a Dr. Dixon class, which is perhaps the most tragic part of his death. I am torn, for I feel lucky to have known Dr. Dixon, if only for a short time, but also in mourning that I will never get to talk and discuss something with him again. In conclusion, David Dixon took my love of history, and made it a life-long passion that I want to dedicate my life to. With Love and Respect, Andy Chrzan

Dr. Dixon was the only professor who could get me up for an 8:30 a.m. class. That is saying something. Because, like Dixon (and I quote him directly here), "I start out slowly in the morning and fizzle out entirely by noon." He was also the only person to ever steal a cookie from me and live to tell the tale. That is saying even more. I can't express what he meant to me any better than Dr. Levy and Dr. Pearcy already have. But I will truly miss him.

I ran into David earlier this summer at a restaurant and introduced him to my friends as “one of the good ones.” One of the faculty I was proud to call a colleague. One of the faculty who represented the ideals we all strive to achieve. One of the faculty who brought energy and expertise to the classroom. I had the pleasure to work with him on several projects, and always respected his opinion and input. I will miss his wit and banter, but even more, the future students of SRU will miss the opportunity to have had a memorable and influential professor.

it has been a few weeks now, and the sense of shock has not lessened. i have thought a lot about what Dixon has meant to my life both personally and professionally. although i attended Slippery Rock as an undergraduate, i had no relationship with Dave until i returned for graduate work. as a less than stellar undergrad and someone with very little knowledge of graduate school i took my cues from the faculty. what i always appreciated was Dixon's "common touch." as grad students we retreated to the bar at the end of each semester where we were assured that Dixon would buy us the first round. it was that kind of accessibility even in such a small department that endeared him to us. i suppose anyone who ever had Dixon for a class would say similar things. on a more personal note, Dixon's support helped me pull through graduate school. year one of my grad experience was spent on probation, and year two brought the birth of my daughter. Dixon was always genuinely concerned for my wife and daughter and asked often of them. on more than one occasion he stopped by our apartment to talk. our conversations frequently transcended the academic environs and we talked more about family than other things. it was during one of those conversations i shared that i had some rare books left to me from my great grandmother on Frederick Remington and western U.S. history in general. i traded a few of those books with Dixon in return for some of greater interest to me. he did not forget that connection to Remington(and my interest in African-American history), and within the year Slippery Rock welcomed an exhibition on the Buffalo Soldiers. Dixon recruited me to work with him and the exhibitor, as well as other Rock faculty to put together an educational packet to be distributed to local secondary schools. at the time i had very little understanding of how important such exercises were professionally but Dixon knew, and guided me through. a few months ago we came full circle, and Dixon called me seemingly out of the blue to ask for my help/research on two antebellum African-American communities in Mercer County. i think of you often Dave, and i am heartbroken when i think that i can no longer pick up the phone and call when i have a question, either personally or professionally. selfishly i am not satisfied with the brevity of our relationship and wish you were still here. thank you for all you have done for me, and i'll get the damn dissertation done.

I will never forget Dr. Dixon. He was not only my mentor, but also my friend. I have known Dr. Dave since I started my undergraduate work in 1998, and he has been my advisor ever since. He was never afraid to be blunt, but would always offer help and guidance when it was needed. I loved having the chance to work with him at The Old Stone House, and in my courses. I even enjoyed chasing that stray dog through the woods at the french and indian war encampment. You will always be remembered and loved by everyone who knows you. I will miss you dearly. You are the best. Thanks for everything. Arthur Eric Stewart

A Good-Bye to a Good Friend
"His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him that nature might stand up
And say to all the world: THIS WAS A MAN." --William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (upon the passing of Brutus)
Perhaps, some may fancy, the stars are not really stars; instead they are openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.
Everyone who knew Dave Dixon knew him to be someone who was, indeed, unremittingly happy in all that he did and in all that he was, whether he was writing, teaching, or out having a smoke and doing his version of Fergie/Black-Eyed Peas singing “My Hump, My Hump, ... .” One of Dave’s favorite statements in all of history came, naturally, from the leading citizen of his beloved Pennsylvania, Dr. Benjamin Franklin. The statement: “Beer is living proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” No one who knew Dave needs even the slightest bit of explanation as to why he relished Ben’s words. If Dave has encountered Benjamin Franklin since the time he left our company (and it is certainly “altogether fitting and proper” to think he has, to borrow from another of Dave’s favorites), I’ll wager Franklin looked at Dave and said something to the effect of “Well done, young man.” I’ll also wager that Dave responded, “You did pretty well yourself, Ben,” but then added: “by the way, when it came to those letters you wrote to your wife from Europe, What Were You Thinking?”
When dealing with anyone, no matter their station, Dave always had a way of getting to a particular “rub,” and he would always get to it in that damned smiling, impious manner of his that was at once alarming, charming, beguiling, disarming, irritating, exasperating ... . The list of “…ing’s” here is long enough to fill several pages of a thesaurus. (It remains a bit of a puzzle to me that, in what proved to be our last conversation, of literally several thousand, we did not argue about anything.) Dave could always get away with hitting people right between the eyes on matters. In the same way, he could always, as many attest, get away with telling a student or a colleague anything he wanted in the bluntest manner. He could get away with it, because with Dave dealings were always genuine. And that genuineness was what came through to anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. It was a chief part of what made him so effective at so many levels as a teacher, a mentor, a scholar, a colleague, and even more as a friend and, dare I surmise, as a husband, a brother, a son, a father, or a grandfather.
In the Old Test. Book of Micah there lies a passage that became a Hebrew song which says: “every man ‘neath his vine and fig tree shall live in peace and unafraid.” David was one who genuinely lived a life that was both at peace and without fear. Henry David Thoreau may have famously held that “all men live lives of quiet desperation,” but Dave has now informed him: “not all, Hank; not all.” I believe Dave truly earned that peace and courage, and I know we were all, sometimes exasperatingly but always happily, drawn to it. It was a big part of what made him someone people instantly wanted to befriend. It made those who befriended him feel, indeed, that he was their best friend and, even more remarkably, that they were his. Few possess such a gift. In the weeks since Dave’s passing many have labored, trying to reconcile various notions of faith to the fact that David was lost to us at the mere age of 53. I certainly have. Here a thought came to mind in regard to another who died way too young -- one of Dave’s boyhood idols, Roberto Clemente. Clemente died while flying relief supplies to an earthquake-ravaged Nicaragua. Many wept and felt particular anguish over the fact that he was so young. It was Clemente’s own mother who lent us some resolution when she stated firmly that it is good that her son will now always be remembered not merely for his athletic talents but for what was so much more important -- what he was as a man.
That certainly came through with Dave’s passing. He used to joke, as many of us repeatedly chided him about the need to quit smoking, that when he died, all his friends would be there. They certainly were (and they are). Friends felt the love of his students. Students felt the love of his family and colleagues. ... ‘Round and ‘round the love built. I don’t fully know whether or why it had to be taught the way it was, but the lesson of so many now deeply Dave-bonded people and of Seventy-Five Cars in a funeral procession in the tiny hamlet of Slippery Rock was most powerful indeed. Perhaps it was a lesson Someone felt worthwhile to reveal to at least a small corner of this world. Martin Luther King did say “longevity has its place.” He never said it was everything, only that it has its place. Now Martin, Roberto, the slightly-subdued Henry David, old Ben, and Dave are the stars winking back to us as they “kick back, pop a cold one, and light up one of those bad boys.” We grieve because that genuinely peaceful, unafraid soul has been taken from us, but we will always be ennobled by the many, many legacies he left us. It is in this context that I turn back to one of Dave’s new buddies, Ben Franklin, as he asks us when we struggle with the loss of such a loved one: “Why should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals?” Alan Levy History Department, SRU

Words do not adequately express the depth of grief and sadness I feel at the loss of my friend David Dixon. Someone once said, "A giant redwood has fallen and left a great space in the forest." To simply refer to David as the "heart and soul" of our department underestimates what he meant to us. On a more personal level, saying that I am going to "miss David" trivializes the enormity of his role and influence in my life. David Dixon was a nationally-recognized and respected scholar. His numerous publications will help shape how future generations understand the history of our nation. He achieved more in his 53 years than most of us might ever hope to accomplish. I often told David I wanted to be like him when I grow up. I wasn't kidding. Despite the enormous list of David's professional achievements, the legacy I will most cherish as his friend is the depth and breadth of David's love for his beloved wife, Amy, and her family. I often felt that people who did not know David well looked at his professional success and assumed he must be too busy to have a "life." After all, we mere mortals frequently fall into that trap. Not David: Amy was always his first priority, and his success as a husband, brother/father/grandfather/son-in-law/brother-in-law far exceeded anything else he accomplished in life. I am so grateful to have had the chance to know David. Eventually soul ache and sadness will subside, assuaged by the loving memory of a great friend. David was indeed a giant redwood in my tiny neck of the forest, and my life is richer for having known him. Thomas L. Pearcy Department of History

I am so sorry for your loss. I only had Dr. Dixon for one class (Civil War) but I will forever remember him. It seemed that I was always stopping into his office to bug him about something that he said in class. I half expected him to tell me I could only stop in once a week because he had other things to do than deal with all of my obsessive, perfectionist questions. I always looked forward to class because I knew he would make every bit of information interesting and I would enjoy the time. I did learn such a large amount about the subject matter but I also learned about things you can't actively teach someone. I feel that I am a better person for taking his class and I am glad that I had the opportunity to meet him. Again, I am sorry for your loss. Thank you for teaching me what you did Dr. Dixon.

I had the pleasure of working with Dave on the downtown mural project. He was our historian on the project, which was funded in part by the PA Council on the Humanities. Of course, having Dave as part of the committee brought a lot of clout to the grant proposal; the Humanities people treated him like a rock star! Although the project was quite intense, we laughed a lot and had a great time in our meetings. As with any grant project, there were many obstacles to overcome (including Dave's dog "eating" a one-of-a-kind book from Bailey Library!), but everything came together nicely and now there is a beautiful mural in town. I know we will all miss Dave very much--I will miss his quick wit and (wicked!) sense of humor. What a great loss to our community.