After the breakfast was Roche Lawes' funeral. I really liked her. She once took my Film as Literature class because I was low on numbers. I have been a fan of hers ever since. She also taught me some things during the course of the class. One of our films was The Man who Shot Liberty Valance. There is a poker playing scene where Liberty wins a poker hand with aces and eights. That went straight over my head, but not Roches'. In case it went over your head, aces and eights is known as "the dead man's hand" because that is what Wild Bill Hickock was holding when he was murdered in a saloon in 1876. Liberty winning with aces and eights was an artistic foreshadowing of his impending death which nothing in the story line had prepared the audience for. If she had not taken that class, I would most likely still be teaching that film, but missing the significance of aces and eights.
I got to briefly see Bad Kate, have a word with Philip (her son and my colleague), and I saw Emily Riser for the first time in five years. That was nice. But the highlight of the day was when Mrs. Deaton sat with me during the funeral service. I called her my sixth grade English teacher, and she did not correct me but upon further reflection, I think she was my eighth grade teacher. I was not always a good boy back then and although I remember no issues with her, I took the the opportunity to apologize for any trouble I might have caused her. She said, "You didn't give me any problems." Before she left, I asked if I could hug her and she said yes.
I am grateful that I had the chance to have that time with Mrs. Deaton. Another former teacher of mine died without me ever telling her how much she meant to me. Mrs. Buford Tubbs was my homeroom teacher in the sixth grade at Bankston. Once that year, she pulled Sanford Thomas and me out of the boys bathroom by our ears. We were fist fighting. It was only many years later that I connected the dots and realized how noble she was in her handling of that incident. Almost any other teacher would have punted the ball and sent us to the principal's office. Instead, she discinplined us herself and not only that, but she never treated my any differently from that time forth. Much of my experience in school was being treated like a bad boy because often I was. But Mrs. Tubbs never treated me like a bad boy. For that, I am grateful. I used to see her once a year when I worked for All Delta Pest Control. I did an annual termite inspection on her house. But it was only after she died that I connected the dots,and she ascended to the Mount Rushmore of my mind. Oh how I wish I could hug her and tell her how special she is to me.
If you run into one of your grade school teachers, or anyone who played a roll in your formative years, let the person know while you still have a chance. The opportunity might not come back again.
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