I woke this morning much earlier than usual. And I broke one of my fundamental rules — I checked my email on my phone.

This is how, before 5 a.m., I learned that one of my pals and mentors — one of my teachers and spurs and chief instigators — passed away last night.

Pearl Rock Kane. Rest In Peace.

“I’d do it for a daisy,” she once told me. And what she meant was, “I’d fly across the country and speak about education, just to help a friend.”

“And why do you think that?” she asked me, the first time I met her, in the aisle of a conference center. I loved that . . . the way she listened and challenged. I loved that and heard it, dozens of times, and hear it still.

“You should take your family and move to France,” she once encouraged me, “it’s the perfect time.” This led to a serious conversation at home because, if Pearl was suggesting it, it must be a good idea.

And then there was a lot that she told me that I’m not going to share for the same reason that, when I’m working on an article or book, I don’t like to talk about it. “The work’s important,” she might have said, “guard the fuel.”

I will. I will.