Neil Guin was a Frost IA for more than a decade. He was a great guy and as loyal as they come. I’m sad he’s gone and sad that most people reading this never knew him. I think his example, however, could help anyone.
Whenever college football season rolled around, Neil would stride into my room and announce, “This year, VMI will WIN!” I’d remind him that William and Mary had beaten VMI 22 consecutive years — not a chance. “This is the year,” he’d insist, “We’ve got them right where we want them.” Then it became 23, 24, and 25 years, and he stuck with them. When the league ended the 88-year rivalry in 2012, he speculated, with a wink, that William and Mary had paid them off. The Tribe knew they wouldn’t have to handle next year’s loss.
Whenever college football season rolled around, Neil would stride into my room and announce, “This year, VMI will WIN!” I’d remind him that William and Mary had beaten VMI 22 consecutive years — not a chance. “This is the year,” he’d insist, “We’ve got them right where we want them.” Then it became 23, 24, and 25 years, and he stuck with them. When the league ended the 88-year rivalry in 2012, he speculated, with a wink, that William and Mary had paid them off. The Tribe knew they wouldn’t have to handle next year’s loss.
That sense of humor and commitment applied to his other interactions at Frost. When kids wrote teacher appreciation letters in English, he (the IA) would always end up getting some. The kids were his cadets, and he treated each with respect. He was both firm and funny. Kids followed the rules not just because they had to, but because they wanted to. I know PE teachers appreciated him, both for this daily support and the many mornings/afternoons of coverage.
My appreciation for Neil can’t be overstated because he brought me to where I am today. In 2016, I heard he was retiring, and I knew I would soon need more time for my family. He could not have been more gracious when I spoke with him about the IA position, sharing all the tips and tricks he learned. “Be ready with shorts, t-shirt, and a backpack. You’ll always be on the move.”
Even in retirement, Neil remained dedicated. When he learned his former Frost student was graduating VMI, he offered to reach out and congratulate him. When he was told the night before the student-faculty basketball game that Frost still needed a ref, he responded, “Give me a time, and I’ll be there.” The following year, when he was physically unable to ref, he said, “My wife and doctor would say I can’t do it, but I’m awfully glad you asked.”
I regret never officially saying goodbye to Neil. It was a honor, though, to have known him. Neil may not have invented “One Frost,“ but he sure lived it.
