In the Wilderness, They Will Still Find You

 

We remember good teachers, but we revere great ones. I have three from high school that fall into the latter category. George Sherman came to our school from Connecticut and made an immediate impact. He taught social studies and brought it to life. He also had an interest in theater and one Friday afternoon, pulled me aside to ask what I was doing on Saturday. “Nothing important,” I likely replied. “I’ll pick you up at eight, then and dress decently,” was his response.

 

When I got in his car the next morning, I hesitantly asked what we were doing. “You’re a contestant in the county extemporaneous speech contest,” he said with a slightly evil grin. It was at first terrifying to stand in front of a whole bunch of strangers and talk about something with no preparation, but I survived and was all the better for having done it.

Ida Mae Harding taught English. She was a bit on the frail and nervous side, but like Mr. Sherman, was able to pull us into literature in ways no teacher ever had. She and George teamed up to challenge the combined junior/senior college English class by having us write one act plays. The three best were to be put on with fellow students acting and the playwright directing. I wrote one about the importance of honesty and it was selected. The details have faded, but not the sense of accomplishment. By the time I graduated, I’d had roles in Teahouse of The August Moon, A Few Good Men, and the lead in Finian’s Rainbow.

 

Maxwel Fogelman taught English at Union High School as well, albeit for only one year. He was Jewish and there were students who made his life intermittently miserable as a result. I was not one of them and we got to be as friendly as a teacher and student could in those days. His wife had severe arthritis, necessitating a move to Arizona.

Max was responsible for my getting an academic scholarship to Arizona State University where I got my undergraduate degree. I guess you could say our meeting was a life-changing experience.