From 8 a.m. to 3 p.m, Professor Rich Durocher is on campus and dedicated to his students. "I'd see students non-stop if I could, and actually often do," he says. Here he teaches English, specializing in Renaissance literature. But as 3 p.m. approaches his mind drifts elsewhere, thinking, "okay, the handicapped bus will be [at home] soon, and I have to be there because she can't be left aloneŠ"

"She" is Helen, his 11-year-old daughter. Five years ago she became ill with an undiagnosed neurological disease which has left her without the ability to walk or speak. She recently received a baclophen pump implant, which constantly supplies medicine into her spine to help loosen her continually stiffening muscles. She still attends school, with the help of a "para," a full-time classroom attendant named Mary Boyum.

Durocher gets help, too, from his wife Karen Cherewatuk, also an English professor at St. Olaf, and from the family dog Sawhney. Sawhney is their large 95-pound golden retriever canine companion, specially trained to work with their daughters needs. The Durochers live in Northfield, and practically every morning either Rich or Karen can be seen walking Sawhney or one of the girls to school. Mary Clare is Helen's younger sister, a first-grader who, they recently learned, can read at the sixth-grade level.

Helen's sickness has precipitated definite adjustments in their lives. "It makes me really appreciate things like a 20-minute walk with my child and dog," said DuRocher. Last year he was invited to speak at the International Milton Symposium in Wales, but was prevented from participating because of Helen. He is optimistic about it, though, and says it just gave him more time to spend with his family. He says: of Helen: "even despite her losses, amazingly she can still enjoy life. She's looking forward to a Beach Carnival coming up at her school this winter."

"I'm a pretty boring person really," DuRocher says. "You find when life is constrained or limited by something, and regimented in such a way, that you live on a kind of alert.; it's hard to ever be relaxed or just hang out."

In addition to his family and work, Rich is anticipating the release of his second book, this coming fall, titled Milton Among the Romans. His first published book, Milton and Ovid, came out in 1985, directly previous to his arriving at St. Olaf.

He looks forward to golfing in the Spring, and attending a chess tournament as well. Once a professional chess player, he's been invited to the Minnesota State Chess Championship this year. He also played football in his youth, but eventually figured out (with the help of a broken collarbone, foot, and some broken teeth) that it's "not good for a 150-pound person to throw himself at massive lines of much heavier people."

Rich grew up in Myrtle Grove, FL. "I love summertime," he says. "That's the hardest thing about living in Minnesota at this time of year." He graduated in 1982 from Loyola in New Orleans, La., and then went to Ithaca, N.Y., for graduate school. There he met Karen, who is four years his junior. They were married in 1984.

Rich taught at the University of Wisconsin at Madison before getting a long-term position at Florida State. "It was great for me, the area and the fact that I have a brother there, but nothing for Karen." She got a job at St. Olaf when they were looking for a Medieval specialist, and he followed her here.

That was 1986, and he used his recently-published status to "dance around and convince them that I was a hot commodity." He was hired as a professor for the Great Conversation at first, then eventually became what he is now.

"I'm always trying to learn more, and I hope it makes me a better teacher," says DuRocher. While on sabbatical a few years ago he took a piano course, being inspired by the music all around him at St. Olaf. "It opened my eyes to the difficulty of students. I'd be crushed if my teacher said anything less than encouraging about my, well, crappy Ode to Joy."

Rich also "fooled around" in ancient Latin while writing his last book, and learned therein more about the famous DaVinci sketch of the man's form within a circle and a square. The drawing is actually DaVinci's notes on an architectural theory about the shapes that best fit humans, which is incorporated into the Devil's design in Milton's Paradise Lost.

"And for more details on that," he laughs, "You can get Milton Among the Romans, an autographed copy, and I'll tell you much more."