The Front Row with Ryan Collingwood, November 23, 2010

It's no secret, really.

As human beings, it's in our innate nature to want to belong.

We exhibit it through our various allegiances ranging from the simplicity of athletic fandom and musical preference to the complexities of religion and political partisanship. It's a pretty wide spectrum.

If it's something we understand and identify with we have a tendency to consciously - and even subconsciously - veer in that direction.

In short, we want what makes us happy; what makes us feel good and a sense of acceptance is usually part of the equation.

Former Falls Christian Academy and Priest River teacher and coach Ivan Benson wasn't an upstart NCAA Division I football team. He wasn't a church and was far from any social networking fad.

But for one man Benson, a longtime educator, had a following as a product of how he made people feel. How he made people believe in things they otherwise wouldn't have.

And doling out smiles was only standard fare.

Benson passed away last week at his Blanchard home with his wife Nancy at his side after an ongoing bout with cancer. He left an indelible mark on just about everyone that crossed his path.

FROM STUDENTS, teachers, coaches and parents all the way down the line to his local grocer, anyone who came into contact with Benson could feel his warmth that seemingly emitted from his cheery demeanor.

It was contagious, too.

After a five-minute conversation with the former track, football and cross country coach (which was usually littered with witty quips and Bob Saget-esque jokes) it would make you want to give a pat on the back to anyone you subsequently shot the breeze with.

The jokes were corny, and he knew it. But his students loved them anyway. The "Bensonisms" and his tendency to use 10-dollar words in casual dialogue only added to his jovial character.

Consider Benson the quintessential grandfather figure who happened to be a coaching and chemistry aficionado - a caring, compassionate and empathetic one at that.

EARLIER IN the decade (before Falls Christian went defunct in 2006), I was one of Benson's student-athletes at FCA - and a malcontent.

Between the chip on my shoulder and the fact that I'd typically leave his class with impressions on my face from laying face down on my Trapper Keeper, Benson had enough reason to join the group of teachers that considered me a proverbial pain in the side.

He didn't, though. In fact, he made it a point to figure out what I was really about while buying into my aspirations.

That's what made him different than most teachers and coaches - his open ear and sizable heart.

In fact it was Benson who steered me into the direction of becoming a journalist.

Per usual, I was working on something non-school related when Benson asked me what I was working on during class.

"What's that you're working on?" said Benson, knowing that his chemistry class didn't feature any written assignments.

"Oh, just some stuff," I replied, trying to play off the fact that I was working on a script for a makeshift movie some friends and I were putting together.

I eventually, and reluctantly, handed him the copy he genuinely was curious to read.

"You know, Mr. Collingwood," he said with an infectious grin. "You're a pretty good writer. You have good flow and an exceptional vocabulary."

And that's where it all started. Now, a shade under a decade later, I'm doing what I love for a living.

THOUGH I didn't fully appreciate his perpetual optimism at the time, I now realize Benson had a substantial role in my life. And the best thing about that notion is the fact that I'm just one of many - maybe even thousands - during his lengthy career. No hyperbole there.

Nobody forgets an Ivan Benson. Nobody.

In his eyes everyone was parallel and had something to offer in some capacity or another. It showed every single day to his approach in the classroom and on the field and track.

The hallmark of a great educator. The telltale of a great man.

I'll see you on the other side, coach.

Ryan Collingwood is a sports writer for the Lewiston Morning Tribune. He can be contacted at Rcollingwood@Lmtribune.com or (208) 860-2260.