OSU prof appreciates Dad's legacy
STILLWATER — Sitting in accounting class on the first day of her first semester of college, Rachel Cox felt the slight sting of embarrassment only a dad can deliver.
Don Herr mann, an Oklahoma State accounting professor, called her out in front of the class, alerting the other 20 students that Rachel would not be getting any special treatment.
Just because she was his own daughter, didn't mean she would have anything handed to her.
“He just wanted to be upfront with everyone,” Cox said about that first day. “I was already a little nervous taking my dad's class and then he just called me out to everybody.
“I was like, `C'mon, Dad.'” An Oklahoma State freshman i n 2008, Cox said she wasn't truly set on what career path she wanted to pursue. But her dad had other ideas. “He ran my exam through after that first semester,” Cox said as she described her dad's
wide smile at her high marks. “He said to me ` I just knew you'd make a great accountant, Rachel.'”
It may have been Herrmann's wish for his daughter to join him as an Oklahoma State professor, but it was Cox's love for her father that finally brought her back.
Now a second-year accounting professor at OSU, Cox, 29, says she's still learning the fine art of speaking in front of dozens of students, as signing challenging but rewarding homework and relating the subject in the same way her dad used to.
Behind her desk in her office inside the Spears School of Business sits the textbook her father wrote on accounting.
“What I would give for him to be walking the halls right now ,” Cox said .“I feel like especially since he's not here anymore, I have a responsibility to follow in his footsteps and make my classes the best they can be.”
Don Herrmann died in May of 2018 after a 14-month fight against brain cancer.
When he was diagnosed in March 2017, Cox was working as a certified professional accountant in Tulsa, married to her husband, David Cox.
Cox decided she was going to leave her job, move back home to Stillwater to be with her parents and to help teach her dad's classes as he became unable.
“I think it had always been his dream for me to come back and work with him,” Cox said. “He encouraged me to come and apply for an opening and then that summer he helped me get my courses prepped.”
In the fall of 2017, Cox took over her first 8 a.m. accounting course with more than 200 students in it. She taught from the textbook her dad had co-authored.
Throughout the year, Cox would check in with her dad for advice, making sure she was hitting on the most important topics and that she wasn't boring her students.
When he was feeling well enough, Herr mann would even come by to give a guest lecture.
“I had some girls that were crying in class just cause they knew the story,” Cox said. “I told them my dad's story and why I was here. I think it's good to have that human aspect. It helps them know where I'm coming from.”
Herr mann had five brain surgeries to try and treat an egg-sized tumor.
Herrmann was named the “Professor of the Decade” for the Spears School of Business in April of 2018.
One month later he was gone, passing away at the age of 54 and leaving behind his wife, Mary, and his four children: Rachel, David, Nathan and Micah.
Beloved professor
Talk to former students of Herrmann and they say he had a way of making accounting mean more than just credits and debits.
He would provide realworld examples, break down the financial reports from well-known companies like Nike or Under Armour and make the numbers come alive.
Wayne Thomas, the interim dean for the Price College of Business at the University of Oklahoma, was best friends with H err mann and coauthored the accounting textbook with him.
Thomas said he l earned a ton from Herr mann while they were in school together at Oklahoma State.
“He was ki nd of t he guy who taught me a lot about how to teach,” Thomas said. “He made accounting exciting the way you make anything exciting. You have to believe it yourself.”
Sitting next to Cox in those freshman year classes was Sarah Johnson. Johnson remembered seeing the giddiness from Herrmann when something clicked with a student.
“He was always excited to be there and thrilled to be teaching us,” Johnson said. “He was deeply kind and very concerned about our projection through the class and making sure we were learning. If we were struggling, there was always a personal email asking how he could help.”
Johnson now teaches at OS U's Spears School of Business, as well, her office just two doors down from Cox.
“All the very best things about Dr. Don are some of the best qualities Rachel shows too ,” Johnson said .“She's very empathetic toward students, very passionate and just has his nature in the classroom.”
Eric Rapley was one Herrmann's first Ph.D. students, personally recruited by Herr mann to move to Still water and enroll in the program.
He now teaches accounting at Colorado State.
Rap ley said the amount of time Herr mann spent on individual students was astounding.
“He was willing to spend the time,” Rapley said. “I just learned a lot from him just how to run a class and how to relate to students.”
For Dad
Herr mann passed away during finals week and Cox had to steel herself to administer her end-of-semester exams.
Her younger brother Micah was one of her students that semester, and Cox had singled him out to her class the way her dad did to her, letting the other students know he wouldn't be getting any special treatment.
Her brother was set to take her final exam the day Herrmann passed away.
“I ran his test through and he scored a 100%,” Cox said. “I know it was in honor of my dad.”
Thomas said he knows Herrmann wasn't concerned with his reputation or having his name remembered.
He was more thrilled at the opportunity to teach and share his passion.
“He loved his profession, and he worked very hard to do what he did,” Thomas said. “But to know that his daughter shared that passion, I know that meant the world to him.”
As another school year approaches, Cox is preparing for a fresh slate of students with a new textbook and an excitement f or another semester.
And if she needs any help, her dad's textbook is always within arm's reach.
“I hope I can live up to that legacy as much as I can,” Cox said. “I think he'd be really proud of what I'm doing now.
“That makes me happy.”