Every class Professor David Cox walked into our classroom on the sixth floor of Gelman Library in jeans, a solid-color pocket T-shirt, a worn-in denim jacket and either a can of Diet Coke or Diet Dr. Pepper. He usually sat on the edge of the table in the front of the class and greeted each student with either a bow of his head or a wave of his hand. He was a very friendly and understanding professor. He may not have known every student’s name, but he always made sure his students felt welcome in his class.

Professor Cox lectured on Comparative Politics of Russia and Central/Eastern Europe. He was very precise with historical facts and could easily talk for hours on end about the current political status of the region. More importantly, his sense of humor and collection of jokes relevant to the material made his lectures interesting and thought-provoking.

On a few occasions, I was the first student to enter the classroom. Professor Cox always greeted me with a question, mostly, “Do you have any questions from the reading?” Not many professors that I have had, to this date, have taken their duty to teach to such an individual level. We talked until other students trickled into class.

On one occasion, when the construction in Gelman was particularly loud and the makeshift ceiling lights were turned off, Professor Cox told me that although the classroom was continuously interrupted by the noise and the musty scent of drywall, that it was the best classroom on all of campus to hold the class, because the surroundings resembled what the Soviet Union looked liked for the 70 years of its existence.

He was also a thoughtful professor. Aware of the construction around our classroom on the day of our scheduled in-class midterm, Professor Cox offered us either to take the midterm somewhere else in the library or to take the exam as a take-home exercise. He truly cared about our performance.

Professor Cox was a unique professor – one that genuinely listened to his students, challenged and cared for his students. His death is untimely and a loss to the GW community.

-The writer is a junior majoring in history and political science.