Lost opportunity

 You know my undergraduate degree in in History …

It was 1972, I was in 7th grade, my first year of junior high.

There were three teachers who taught 7th grade Social Studies (American History).   

Mr. M was an older man, probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s, slightly balding,  Mr. K was in his 20’s, with longish hair and a mustache (my guess is that he went into teaching to avoid being drafted — we were very much involved in the Vietnam War).

And then there was Mr. H, the teacher none of us wanted.  In his 30’s, tall and lanky, with a crew cut and horn rimmed glasses, he was intimidating.  Rumor had it he had a glass eye.  He was strict, sarcastic …not warm and fuzzy like Mr. M or young and cool like Mr. K. 

I was happy that I landed in Mr. K’s class.

But then .,,

Mr. K told us that the teachers were going to try an experiment.  Mr. K was going to teach Mr. M’s classes for two weeks and then he’d teach Mr. H’s classes for two weeks.  Mr. M would teach Mr. H’s classes and then Mr. K’s classes.  Mr. H would teach Mr. K’s classes and then move on to Mr. M’s classes.  In other words, everyone in 7th grade would be exposed to all three teachers,  

And Mr. M was fine.

But we were terrified of Mr. H.

And then …

Mr. H was a member of a family that had been on Long Island since the 17th Century.  He knew local history…he was a member of the local. Historical Society …I was fascinated …

I can’t remember anything specific from Mr. K’s class. I’m sure I enjoyed it. 

But I very clearly remember the stories Mr. H told us. 

Mr. H, I apologize for every bad thought I had about you, and wish I’d had more time to learn from you.