Mark Pollock, Loyola University Chicago communication professor, dies at 70

Almost every year, Mark Pollock would gather a small group of his former students for a group meal — dubbed the “The Dinner Club.”

Sometimes, it would be at a Thai restaurant. Other times, a Mediterranean one. They even met at his home, said Alma Tello, a former student.

This was a time for the professor, who taught political rhetoric and communication at Loyola University Chicago for 25 years, to catch up with his former students.

“He was just a really fun person to break bread with and talk to,” Tello said. “What a remarkable relationship he had with his favorite students.”

Mr. Pollock, 70, of Rogers Park, died May 4 of complications following surgery at Evanston Hospital.

David Romanelli, the director of debate and senior instructor at Loyola University Chicago, said Mr. Pollock was a mentor to him — often offering “valuable feedback” on Romanelli’s instruction.

Mr. Pollock helped create the major Romanelli now teaches, called Advocacy and Social Change, which encourages students to work toward social good.

“That was a big part of Mark's belief — we could use rhetoric, discourse and argument to try and shape the world around us,” Romanelli said.

“In teaching, he wanted students to realize that and develop their own voices, so they could also advocate for social justice,” said Whitney Woodward, another former student.

Mr. Pollock’s research concerned 20th and 21st century U.S. political rhetoric. He taught classes on social justice, communication, rhetoric and advocacy and was an expert on the German-Jewish philosopher Hannah Arendt, whom he researched for his dissertation.

He did his undergraduate studies at Northwestern University, Oakton Community College and Northern Illinois University. Later, he did graduate work in rhetoric and philosophy at Penn State and Northwestern.

After teaching at Temple University for five years, Mr. Pollock came to Loyola University Chicago in 1992. He retired in 2018.

His daughter, Alexandra, said her grandparents were involved in the social justice movement of the 1960s, which may have shaped her father’s academic interests.

“Coming of age at the time that [my father] did, throughout the '60s and '70s, gave [my father] a sense of the world,” she said.

“He was someone who was substance, not style,” Romanelli said. “He was someone who stood up for what he believed.”

Woodward, who took Mr. Pollock’s classes, said he fostered discussion and got students to think critically. She felt challenged “all the time.”

“I felt like it was my little brain going up against his big brain,” Woodward said.

Woodward, who wrote for the student newspaper, said Mr. Pollock was supportive of her journalistic career during college and afterward.

“When you're an undergrad, you take courses, you learn a lot and for the most part, you graduate. That's it,” Woodward said. “To have someone who I looked up to, knowing that he was in my corner, was nice.”

Mr. Pollock was an avid reader, according to those who knew him, with many noting his book recommendations.

His daughter said his favorite book growing up was "The Phantom Tollbooth" — a children’s fantasy novel, which explores the value of education. He read it to her and her brother.

“Our house was filled with books,” his daughter said. “I remembered him talking to us about banned books, censorship and the importance of engaging.”

His daughter said Mr. Pollock had an “eclectic” taste in music, ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Kanye West. It rubbed off on her, she added.

“I remember getting an iPod for the first time and being so excited. He loaded his iTunes library onto it for me,” his daughter said.

Mr. Pollock and Romanelli often went to concerts together. They loved to talk about everything — politics, classes, the world.

“Half the fun of the concert was just getting a meal beforehand,” Romanelli said.

But when it came to baseball, “we never argued over that,” Romanelli said. “I’m a Cubs fan. He's a Sox fan.”

His family joked about how he took baseball “very seriously,” his daughter said.

Mr. Pollock hated "when people do the wave. He was there to focus on the game,” his daughter said.

Services have been held. In addition to his daughter and son, Benjamin, Mr. Pollock is survived by his wife, Kristin Davis.