Speaking Of Teachers

When I was in the tenth grade, a required course was world history. It was taught by a very eccentric country gentleman whom everyone called Fesser. Throughout the course, he emphasized several times that Napoleon Bonaparte's real defeat occurred when he invaded Russia and his army was decimated. In his own inimitable expression, Fesser insisted that Napoleon met his "Waterloo" in Russia.

The boys in the class ate this up. They would take up half a class period arguing with Fesser that Napoleon couldn't have met his Waterloo in Russia, because Waterloo was in Belgium, and the battle occurred two years after the Russian campaign.

When final exam time came, we went into the classroom to find that Fesser had written all the exam questions on the blackboard, and he proceeded to read the questions aloud to make sure everyone understood them.

Fesser raised his voice to read out the final question:

"Where did Napoleon meet his Waterloo?"

He raised his voice even louder and said, "And if anybody puts Waterloo, Belgium, I'll flunk every one of y'ens!"

Tribute To My Teachers

Their words that I remember:

"Mrs. Ramey, look at this painting by your little girl!" Clara DeShazo, first grade.

"You did that on purpose!" Pluma T. Kimbro, second grade.

"They sound good when she reads them." G.M. Ramey about Anne C. Layfield, third grade, reading my poems aloud.

"You may have the Valentine box." Norma Whitmire, fourth grade.

"Thank you for being honest." Margaret Pate (Burke or White?), fifth grade.

"'Frank and I,' Jimmy! 'Frank and I!'" Imogene Elgin, sixth grade (to "Can me an' Frank dust the erasers?")

"You would wear that dress!" Bertha Nel Allen, seventh grade (about an old-fashioned blue taffeta evening dress with a bustle effect, that my mother made.)

"I remember Joanne Ramey." Jane Hooten, eighth grade (many years later).

"We don't put our hands on our faces in the lab." Ellen Launius Harding, ninth grade. (This lab was where I asked Dwight N. if he would marry me. The only boy I ever proposed to.)

"I am an A-son, not a P-son." Beatrice Kitchens Thomason, tenth grade.

"Side-angle-side equals side-angle-side," with a beaming smile. James Piper, eleventh grade.

"Exackly!" Robert E. Cummins, twelfth grade.
"You have all these poetic ideas!" Beverly Hapgood, twelfth grade.