Maybe it's idle time but every now and then I'll think about my teachers growing up in Boone, Iowa. Overall, I was blessed with not only good ones but some great ones. Of course, it was the 1950's and 1960's and it was a different time.
From kindergarten, Miss Peak at Bryant school, who even today was the best looking one of all all the way to being seniors I can run down the list. I went to Sacred Heart up to the 8th grade. To this day I can recall snippets of instances that occurred with each. If I got in a jam it was my fault, except for my 6th grade nun, Sr. Mary Louis Joseph. I'm convinced she detested children. Other than that they were dandies.
I started 9th grade in 1960. Going from a class of 30 to one of 200 was scary to a little kid. Most of my teachers, the males, were somewhat older and most had been involved in WWII. Once in awhile they referenced the war but not often. I'm guessing those who'd been there didn't talk about it. Mr. Hershey was my 9th grade English instructor. I don't remember one thing about the class. I do remember when he spoke it sounded exactly like Buddy Hackett.
I hate math of any kind. I just couldn't get it. Algebra was misery. Vaughn Thornburg was 143 years old. She was tough. One day she called me to her desk after class and accused me of cheating. "How could I cheat," I said. "I got a C- on the test." The answer was I always enjoyed trying to print or write in different styles. She didn't understand so I had to show her. Besides, how could a 14 year old cheat on something like this: x-y+ 2-10 equals?
About math of any kind: I'd learned to add, subract, multiply and divide quickly. It's not like I planned on being an aeronautical engineer in life. I can add numbers in a nanosecond if I have to. When I was a teacher I'd do this for my students. They were amazed. That's when I knew math skills were overrated.
My US History teacher was Mr. Carroll. I was crazy about him but also fearful. In the first place I had a crush on his daughter, Jan. She was beautiful but went out with a guy who drove a fancy car and had a lot of money. Anyway, I was in the coaches office my junior year after coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me. Mr. Carroll had the same. I looked down at is waist and noticed what looked like a big hole healed over. I asked how he got that. He told me he was a tail gunner in the big war and was shot. I'll never forget that.
My geography instructor was Coach Ranglos. Even at the time we all knew he'd rather be playing craps than teaching the class. He kept two pages in the text ahead of us. Ask me what I learned. I don't know.
Mr. Ranglos was an outstanding basketball player at the Univ. of Colorado and played in the NCAA finals in 1956. He made the all tournament team along with Bill Russell and KC Jones later of the Boston Celtics.
He was only 6'5" but could dunk a basketball as easily as I could dunk a donut into a glass of milk.
All of my instructors are now gone. It's sad. Some I had the opportunity to thank for what they did for me.
Know what? I never heard any of my teachers or coaches utter one obscenity, not even a damn or hell. It surely was a different time but it was a good time.
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