Jerome "Jerry" Louis Shenk
October 30, 1938 - November 2, 2017

"Glenn Kummery on Nov. 27 Franny and I were saddened tonight when we read about Jerry's death. As a college student back in the early 60's, I always enjoyed Jerry's humor, intellect, insightful teaching and care. Whether it was in math class, chapel or Dean of Student meetings, there was always fun, laughter and understanding. In 1966, Franny and I were honored when Jerry drove to Pennsylvania to marry us. In 2016 we celebrated our 50th anniversary and on the evening of that day I fortunately was able to reach Jerry by phone. He was very surprised and we had a delightful, updating conversation. I'm so glad we connected. I appreciate the fun, learning and concern that Jerry provided to me as a student back in the early 60's. Our thoughts go to Jerry's family. Love, Glenn & Fran Kummery"

"I am deeply saddened to hear of the passing of Jerry Shenk. He was my all-time favorite professor at Bluffton College from 1962 to 1964. I went to Bluffton as a jock and a farm boy, and left four years later as a budding scholar. Jerry was so smart and so funny that he inspired me, for the first time, to want to read books of all kinds, to listen to opera, and to go see Shakespeare plays. He visited me in the summer, lent me classical music records, recommended novels and theology books to read, and took me and Roger Paul to New York City in December 1963 where we stayed in a cheap Times Square hotel, went to the ballet, to the Metropolitan Opera (Rigoletto), saw a Kurosawa movie, went to the Guggenheim and Met, and saw two Broadway plays--Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolff? and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest! For a Mennonite farm kid, it was a life-changing experience. Jerry taught basic science and math, and New Testament, and History of Science, all the while being Dean of Men. He lived in the dorm, with a college student for a roommate (who he also once flunked on an exam) When the Metropolitan Opera was in Cleveland for a week, Jerry drove a different carload of kids to Cleveland every night. He preached at two little country churches on weekends, and I got to be a guest preacher for him a couple of times. I was originally planning to go to seminary, but decided on grad school instead, and went into Chinese history, something I never could have imagined before Bluffton College. I've always been profoundly grateful to have had Jerry as a college professor for two years. I only regret that we lost contact by the 1970s. It's wonderful to see other tributes and know that he kept that sparkling wit and interest in everything! With gratitude and sorrow, Paul Ropp "

"I will miss Jerry's sense of humor and insights into movies, religion, politics, the good life, and opera. When I heard the news of Jerry's passing, I spent a night with the "Eenie brothers" to whom Jerry and Leila introduced me: Rossini, Bellini, Puccini, and Cherubini. I have very fond memories of listening to recordings of Italian Opera at Jerry's place and on road trips to Chicago with the Shenks. Jerry, Leila, Alita, and Reade have enriched my life immeasurably. We'll miss you Jerry!"

"My deepest condolences. Jerry was such a cheerful, gentle person and will be much missed. Maria Shank"

"My deepest condolences to Leila and the family.. A gentle soul who always had a cheerful smile. Dan Freeman"

" This is something I wrote and posted and my Facebook tonight after I heard of his passing. I worked with Jerry years ago at Four Star and he was a great influence at that time in my life. I regret not telling him so later in life. My deepest condolences to his family... Jerry They say a job is only as good as its boss. This isn't necessarily true. While it's unlikely to have a good job with a bad boss, it's entirely possible to have a bad job with a good boss. I had that job. I had it because one night Jerry Shenk finished going through 24 applications and decided that in all that stack of paper possibility, there was one he thought -for whatever reason- had a little bit more possibility than the rest. Then he picked up the phone in that dusty back office and called my number. He never told me precisely what it was that made his fingers press those particular numbers in that particular order, but it must have been something. Because not only did he hire me for what was at the time a very enviable position at Four Star Video Heaven, he took special care to teach me what he could, and make sure I was doing the kind of job he seemed to know I could do. It was a popular video store just off State Street in Madison, a haven not only for film wanna-bes and might-someday-bes, but for all of Madison's liberal elite. "Four stars to Four Star" as their t-shirts bragged Roger Ebert had once said. It was culture shock to me, coming to Madison for college from a very unliberal Lutheran boarding school where our most popular rentals would undoubtedly be burned for heresy. It started out more than well enough, as the excited film geeks behind the counter who would become my friends fed me tape after tape, sparking flint on a love of movies began by my father, who was always a sucker for a Saturday matinee. Jerry didn't hand me a list; it was an bright blue aura of movie love that was always around him, that you couldn't avoid getting on your hands or your shoes and taking home with you. He looked like a cross between Santa Claus and Jerry Garcia, and seemed to carry traits of both, with Santa Claus' temperament and Jerry Garcia's T-shirt collection. He was patient and jolly, and if he frowned that image is long gone from my mind. The night I got to meet and have a conversation with Gregory Peck, the night I decided for sure I would major in film, I walked straight from the Union Theater, up Langdon and down Henry and into Four Star to tell him first. Eventually, things darkened, as the Too Good tends to do. The film geeks left, one by one, and film cynics took their place. The lists and hearty debates tapered, replaced by criticism and condescension from the replacements, sometimes right to the customers' faces. I did my best to stick it out, but the gears had shifted, and the machine slowly began to churn against me. I would arrive at work to hear some faceless customer had complained about my rudeness, or a deeply uncharacteristic comment I had made to one of the other managers. Jerry knew better, that these reports had either been misdirected at me or simply spun from air. He stood up for me, at risk to his own security, but the powers above him had other ideas. He was sad to see me go, and said so, but he knew I'd be okay. And he was right. I ended up a couple blocks down the road, at a unassuming Blockbuster tucked under an apartment building, in what became perhaps the best job I ever had, with passionate film folk whom I call friends to this day, who fed my hunger for movies and fanned the flames that had dimmed. I saw Jerry only a handful of times after that. Heard he finally left that place, heard he got a job managing a store on the west side. Heard he was showing off great films on the local news. Years later I came across a book written by a coworker from Four Star, with a fictionalized version of that darker time, and what was less a fictionalized version of Jerry than an outright smear against him. I was furious. I wanted to write to Jerry about it, use it an excuse to talk to him again, to see how he was doing, and what else he thought I should watch. But I never did. The last time I saw him wasn't in person. It was on TV, on the local news, still shining light on great films for the Madison community. And I thought to myself again that I should write to him, to thank him, for believing in me at a time when so much for me was the New and Unsure. But I didn't. All I can really do now is let others know what a kind gentle soul he was, how a jolly beard and belly hid a passion that I know never waned, a passion that I know lives on in me and others who knew him and loved him and learned from him. So that will be my toast to him, not with champagne or wine, but with the opening credits to a movie I've never seen before, some undiscovered gem, and the two hours of escapist fun that he brought to so many so many times over the years. And to know that someday, if ever my story is told, of who I am and the people responsible for it, his name will be there in the credits. Miss ya, Jerry, and thanks. Peter J. Fabian"

"Jerry, Many thanks for taking our son Seth under your wings while managing Video Station, encouraging him to watch class movies and read widely, and mentoring him about life. Many thanks, Denis Collins"