By OTE Staff
April 18, 2021
On The Edge (OTE) Advisor and Department of English Instructor Pat Simms died of cancer April 5, 2021. Simms was 75 years old, and we will deeply miss her presence in our newsroom and our lives. She spent more than 40 years as one of the Wisconsin State Journal’s most dynamic reporters and the first woman at the publication to be granted maternity leave. Simms instilled her fearlessness and demand for respect into her students with every lesson. We are all better people for knowing her, and we hope to carry on her legacy with our reporting in the future.
Pat’s family has set up a scholarship fund for students of journalism in her name. Donations can be addressed to the M. Patricia Simms Journalism Scholarship Fund, C/o Meanwell Investment Group, 1 Erdman Place, Suite 200, Madison, WI 53717-2171.
Remembering Pat
I met Pat Simms once in person before COVID. She radiated joy and such excitement. She helped make me feel comfortable in pursuing journalism at Edgewood. Pat didn’t even know who I was, but she had this belief and was so excited to hear that I was interested in On the Edge. She had that faith in everyone. Regardless of any experience or knowing people, she believed in you. I didn’t get to know Pat that well, given our circumstances, but I will always remember that woman who believed in me and wanted me to succeed–when she didn’t even know me.
– Jenna Sanchez, staff writer
Pat Simms, the advisor to On The Edge, has had such a tremendous impact on so many people. Even though I didn’t know her well, this woman is such an inspiration to me. Last semester I sat in the back of the library feeling sad because I hadn’t met a single person who was an English major through all of orientation. I found On The Edge on the college website and e-mailed Pat. She responded in minutes with an enthusiasm that truly made me feel welcomed and already part of the On The Edge team. So strong and brave, this woman is truly amazing, and I loved the short bit of time I got to spend with her.
– Rebecca Dickman, staff writer
Not a day goes by that I don’t miss Pat. She always made me feel better if I wasn’t happy. She made every one of On The Edge newspaper meetings uplifting. She was truly down to earth, friendly, humble and someone to talk to if you need to talk about anything. She was also like a grandma to me. What I can do now instead of being sad is to celebrate her successes. You can read more about them at this link.
Pat, if I could talk to you, I would thank you for welcoming me to On The Edge newspaper. You were friendly and when I introduced myself during our first meeting together, you welcomed me. I will never forget that day. I’m sure you’re looking down at your wonderful staff and writers and are proud of all of our work. I miss you, but I will also remember you. Thank you again for everything you have done for this newspaper and congratulations on all of your successes. 🙂
– Mandy Scheuer, staff writer
I first met Pat three-and-a-half years ago and we didn’t exactly hit it off. Now, her name is saved in my phone with a little exclamation point because I was always excited to talk to her. It’s my main goal to make her proud because any student of Pat’s knows that hearing her tell you she’s proud of you is the greatest feeling in the world.
Pat is my hero. Even in the beginning when I wasn’t sold on her tough love approach, I idolized her. The first reporter in State Journal history to get maternity leave, Pat she tried to spend both rounds of it attempting law school. She used to joke with me that if journalism got to be too much for me, I could just go to law school myself, so long as I had the time and probably wasn’t caring for any newborns.
Pat taught me confidence. She taught me to demand the respect she herself had fought for in her early years of reporting. She also taught me that a Saturn was a good car and that you could usually get away with sneaking food out of meetings.
Looking back, I find it hard to remember what it was like before I’d call her every day. I don’t honestly know where I’d be if we hadn’t met. I do know that I’d give anything to pick up the phone and hear “Hi dumpling” again or hear her let out one big laugh when I mix up my words. To know Pat is to love her, and I cannot help but be eternally grateful to have had the privilege of loving her, and to now carry that love with me wherever I go.
– Anna Hansen, editor
Throughout the time I’ve known Pat, she has been my news advisor, professor, mentor, neighbor and above all, my dearest friend. All of us who’ve worked with her through On The Edge, and anyone she’s known throughout her career, have been changed for the better.
I have decided to always refer to Pat in the present tense. Her youthful spirit is everlasting, eternal – it knows no bounds. I haven’t experienced too much loss yet in my life, but I know that I have never heard more people talk about someone living beyond their life on Earth as much as it has been said about Pat.
For me, Pat became a home away from home when I was really struggling with grounding myself throughout college. When she reached out to me about taking over as editor for OTE, Pat was really handing me a lifeline. She continuously shows me consistency, grace, patience, the unconditional love of a once-in-a-lifetime friendship. She humbles me. She teaches me that, especially as a journalist, being respected is more important than being liked.
Pat is simply a journalistic legend, the definition of kicking butt and taking names. Name-dropping her during interviews and conversations is a flex all its own.
Pat somehow got me on a panel of student reporters at the Wisconsin Newspaper Association conference two years ago, and I have a vivid memory of her smiling and taking photos from the front row. She is my biggest fan. She is the holder of my confidence, my independence, my purpose.
She always tells me to give myself more credit for the skills I have, but when it comes down to it, she is behind every story I edit and write. Getting back to work is hard during any time of grieving, but it’s especially hard when the work itself is screaming her name.
So, here’s to the early days of learning to be a journalist, when Pat had to teach me that news articles get “headlines,” not “titles.” When she tore apart my stories and I learned to get over my desire for reassurance. When I held my own in a meeting with a college administrator and the first thing she said when we walked out was, “Well, you just got respected.” When we’d text or email about OTE workflow and job applications at midnight. (She’s a night owl through and through, even being 53 years above me.) When she handed me the list of awards OTE received a year ago, with the biggest “I shouldn’t show you this yet, but I can’t help myself” smile across her face.
I have been so deeply touched by the amount of people who’ve been telling me how clear the care Pat and I have for each other is, how they can see all that love between us just in the way we look at each other. One of her friends wrote to me, “Pat’s eyes always sparkled when she talked about you.” Nothing means more to me than knowing that all I feel for her is felt back.
I’m learning there’s a certain kind of grief that comes with knowing you’ll never get over the loss. That the loss hurts so much because of how deeply you will always hold that love. That in the loss, there is almost an even bigger gain–because Pat is without question a part of me. She’s in my heart, laughing at me for crying, saying, “I’m right here, dumpling.”
I just wish I could hear her say it. It is the biggest honor to be one of many keeping her spirit alive.
– Alyssa Allemand, OTE editor 2018-2020, Edgewood College graduate May 2020, current digital editor at Wisconsin Public Radio
Post your comments