With his silver hair parted languidly to the side, a neatly-trimmed grey beard, an eyebrow cocked, a bow tie slightly askew and a surplus of Southern charm, George Pickett Wilson Jr. could have stepped off the pages of a Tennessee Williams play.
And he did, sort of.
The Tucson retiree starred as Big Daddy, a brash, affluent Mississippi plantation owner, in a production of "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" in 1979 while he was teaching speech and drama at Iowa State University. It was one of many roles he won in university and community productions.
Health problems kept Wilson from a shot at treading the boards of Broadway, but he still made theater his career. He earned a master's degree in drama from the University of North Carolina and a doctorate in speech from Columbia University. He taught at universities for more than 50 years and still found time to bring characters as diverse as Willie Loman (in "Death of a Salesman") and Big Daddy to life.
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Wilson's cancer of the head and neck, discovered 10 years ago — and the subsequent surgery and radiation treatments — didn't stop him either, said his wife of 64 years, Margaret "Pod" Wilson. It wasn't until a year ago, when the cancer returned and treatments robbed Wilson of his booming voice, that it took a toll on the man who prided himself on his ability to articulate.
Until the recurrence of cancer, his wife said, "his speech had been so mellifluous."
Wilson, a father of seven, died May 14 as a result of the cancer. He was 88.
Just after Wilson's retirement from Iowa State University 20 years ago, he and his wife moved to Tucson so he could take a yearlong teaching job at the University of Arizona. The one year turned into three, and by that time the Wilsons were hooked on the Old Pueblo, said one of the couple's two daughters, Anne Grande.
"He liked to express himself and that's why he enjoyed teaching," Margaret Wilson said.
In the 1990s, George Wilson performed in a few Tucson theater productions, including "Gypsy" and "Sunset Boulevard" with Tony Award-winning actress Betty Buckley.
He also had been a docent at the Tucson Museum of Art since 1981.
"He was a marvelous speaker and he had this great big deep booming voice. He sort of reminded you of the movie star Monty Woolley. He was full of enthusiasm," museum docent Sandy Cord said. "He had a spark to him."
Docent Vida Thomas thought of Wilson as a mentor. He worked one-on-one with Thomas and other docents to help them with their presentations during art talks and tours.
"His specialty was communications before he was retired," she said. "He was always very emphatic (during his presentations). You did not fall asleep during one of his lectures. He talked with great animation and you paid attention because you never knew what was going to come out of his mouth."
Wilson knew the key to keeping an audience interested was to involve members in the program, ask them questions.
"You can have all the knowledge in the world, but if you put people to sleep, that's no good," Cord said. "You have to entertain and inform."
In his younger days, Wilson practiced teaching methods and rehearsed scenes with his children.
"He was excellent at engaging with people," said Grande, who has become a docent herself, at the Minnesota Institute of the Arts.
The Wilsons' other daughter, Helen Chason, remembers being schooled by her father on proper enunciation when she was a child.
"One of my brothers and I got some remedial speech lessons at the supper table," she said. "He was the quintessential teacher. He was always teaching."
Their father's influence rubbed off on Chason, too. She is a docent at a museum in Washington, D.C.
Though he enjoyed educating people about art and performing Pulitzer Prize-winning works, Wilson never took himself too seriously.
"He was very measured, but at the same time he was so fun-loving," his wife said.
It must have been that side that inspired Wilson to hang black-and-white publicity stills from his most memorable theater productions in his bathroom.
"He put them in here. It was his idea, so he could sit on the pot and look at them," Pod Wilson said.
Life Stories
This feature chronicles the lives of recently deceased Tucsonans. Some were well-known across the community. Others had an impact on a smaller sphere of friends, family and acquaintances. Many of these people led interesting — and sometimes extraordinary — lives with little or no fanfare. Now you'll hear their stories. Past "Life Stories" are online at go.azstar net.com/lifestories
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