I am a lucky man because I have been blessed to count George Forrester as a friend for 48 years. In 1969 we became colleagues on the faculty of San Jose City College. We began working together when I recruited him to join a project focused on studying our future. We were in the middle of a renaissance, then, where change was a daily observation. Our students wanted to know where we were headed, so it was a natural and popular course of study. The project took much of our time and energy, so George and I spent a lot of time together in meetings with our colleagues, sharing meals, the ups and downs of parenthood, sports, the reasons why Hamlet did what he did—we could talk for hours, but we learned that sometimes we could just be quiet together. That’s all the stuff of real friendship. I watched all the plays he directed over the years, including parts of many rehearsals when I could. He sometimes visited my classes to help discuss a character we were studying. I moved to Evergreen, and he soon followed. We shared some administrative responsibilities and countless lunches together. We both kept on teaching. The years passed by, our children grew up, and we continued to share meals, stories about our kids and classes, and opinions about the Giants, the Raiders and the Warriors. I evolved into a union guy, and after we both retired, George helped me with the union chapter for our district’s retired faculty.
Not everyone has a chance to share such a long and lasting friendship as the one I have just outlined. It has been one of the great treasure of my life. As I said elsewhere, George was a great light in the lives of many. The light of his intensity, care and love shone brightly on others and magically brought out the best in everyone. I am a lucky man to have known George and felt the magic of his light on our friendship. I miss you George.
— Bill Jacobs