Andrew H. Dillon

I remember Professor Paletz well and have fond memories of him and his class. In the fall of 1995, I enrolled in one of his seminars (my recollection is that it was about politics and media). The prior summer, I had interned with the U.S. Senate Judiciary Committee and spent the summer preparing for the Senate hearings about David Koresh, the Branch Davidians and the standoff with the ATF and FBI. I chose to use that experience and knowledge as the basis for my paper in Professor Paletz’s seminar.

Early in the semester, he called me to his office. He suggested that I consider expanding that paper into a senior honors thesis. Previously, I had no intention of writing a thesis. I did not think I had a voice or vision to write one. Moreover, I lacked the confidence that I could produce a thesis at an acceptable level. With Professor Paletz’s encouragement, I chose to write the thesis with him serving as my mentor. He told me that it would be hard work and that he would be tough in holding me accountable. He did not exaggerate. Writing that senior thesis was the most challenging and rewarding academic experience of my life.

In February of my senior year, I was planning on attending Mardi Gras with friends – a college rite of passage of sorts. I had never attended Mardi Gras. Professor Paletz told me that my thesis was good, but that it could be great. To be great, it had to be completely reorganized, taking a different format and organizational flow. He never told me what to do – he simply told me that there was potential. To my friends’ frustration, at the last minute, I elected against attending Mardi Gras and spent four days alone in my apartment working on my thesis. Professor Paletz was correct – the revised version was far superior. To this day, I keep a copy of my thesis in my office. It is a daily reminder of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice. Recently, my college roommate was in Houston on business. He visited my office, saw my thesis, and read the conclusion to me. First, it was incredible to hear words I wrote 30 years ago. Second, it was apparent that the lessons of Professor Paletz’s class about politics and the media remain equally accurate today. I can’t imagine the coverage of Waco in the age of social media and the concept of “clickbait”.

In addition, that thesis and the recognition it earned played a significant role in my law school job interviews and helped me secure internships and employment. Without Professor Paletz, I would not have written a thesis, and without his vision and encouragement, it would not have been as strong. I have been and am forever grateful for his vision, his encouragement, his mentorship, and for challenging me to work smarter, harder, and better.

Another vivid memory I have is walking into the Carolina Theater to see “The Usual Suspects” – a movie I knew nothing of in advance. With a wry smile, he told me that I would enjoy the film. It was not until the twist at the end of the film that I understood his smile. For some reason, I’ve never forgotten that moment. I think in part it is because he was an exacting thesis advisor and outside the theater, that smile revealed his warmth in a personal and subtle way.

My passion for Duke is a cornerstone of my life. On June 30 of this past year, I concluded my term as Duke Alumni Board President (which included the privilege to serve with Ann Pelham on the Board of Trustees). When I reflect on what Duke means to me (which is often), invariably, I think of the people who informed that experience. Professor Paletz is high on the list of those people. Through his class, his mentorship, and his interest in and support of my thesis, I found confidence in myself that I lacked (but he saw). I cannot articulate how valuable that has been in my life. A true teacher, he showed me the way to be a better version of myself.

Andrew Dillon