Professors in robes gathered for an unusual graduation ceremony Wednesday on the seventh floor of the

. They talked in hushed tones to two dozen students. Another student lay in a corner room, unaware of the plans being made in the hall.

had arranged for a special commencement to be held today, but Dr. Eric Bernstein called Wednesday morning and said his patient's blood pressure had dropped, his liver wasn't working well and he might not live much longer.

Plans were quickly changed. Faculty skipped classes. Classmates rearranged work schedules. A diploma was hastily matted and framed.

David Thoen, a student who taught faculty members and classmates something extraordinary, would get his ceremony.

When Thoen enrolled in George Fox's part-time MBA program two years ago, he was 56 and pursuing the idea of starting a small-business consulting firm with two friends.

Six weeks after he started classes, he was diagnosed with lung cancer that had spread to his liver and bones. The average person with stage 4 lung cancer lives 12 months, according to Bernstein.

Thoen had to decide: Stay in the two-year program or abandon it?

The Southwest Portland resident's parents had raised him with a strong work ethic and a never-quit mentality. He liked learning. Maybe it wasn't the wisest financial decision for the long term, but he chose to stick it out.

The decision turned out to be a good one for him and fellow students. The lesson no one expected is how some journeys in life matter more than the destination.

Through chemotherapy every three weeks, Thoen went to classes every Thursday night and one Saturday a month at the university's Tigard campus. Pneumonia put him in the hospital for days, and yet he missed only one class. Like classmates, he continued to work full time -- in his case in the information technology department at

where he was responsible for budgeting and forecasting until his cancer worsened.

A torn retina left him blind in one eye for a while, but even then he typed homework with his good eye and managed to read by holding textbooks 6 inches from his face.

"By working full time and going to school part time, it kept my mind and energy focused on something instead of my health," he said Wednesday.

"For him, it was always about 'What can I do today?'" Dr. Bernstein said. "Clearly, for him it was about the program, not the degree. He just likes working, and he just likes going to school."

Bernstein helped schedule Thoen's chemotherapy around a trip to China with 29 other students, two instructors and 13 spouses -- the highlight of the program for Thoen.

By then, his fellow travelers had become like family. A group of 25 -- what the university calls a "cohort" -- moved through the program together, attended the same classes and worked closely on projects. The cohort recently made plans to take shifts, from 8:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m., to help care for Thoen at his home in the

.

Thoen worked to finish his last class before classmates wrap up theirs Feb. 24. He had no idea the school planned a graduation ceremony just for him.

Not until lunchtime Wednesday, when a classmate walked in Room 721, followed by all the others. Thoen's companion of eight years, Arlene Lincoln, was there by his side.

As the crowd quietly gathered around his hospital bed, one classmate laid a graduation gown over Thoen's shoulders and helped lace his hands through the sleeves. Next came a mortarboard placed on his head.

"You have been an amazing friend and an inspiration to go through this journey with," a student said.

"You are the finest person I have ever met," said another. "And you are the only person I've ever met who truly loves numbers. I wouldn't have made it through accounting without you."

Then Dirk Barram, dean of the

, stepped forward in full commencement regalia.

"I've been at George Fox for 25 years, and I've gone to at least 25 commencements, but I've never been to one like this," he said.

The ceremony was shorter than most, but the language ornate and official. When Barram finished, he handed the diploma to the graduate, and the graduate declared it a thing of beauty.

Thoen thanked the school, his teachers and fellow students. Then he thanked his family for their support.

The last person he thanked was his companion. As she leaned over and hugged him, tears sliding down her cheeks, he said, "We did it."

"You did it," she said.

He never once thought of giving up.

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