Let Us Now Praise Famous Teachers

It is not too difficult for my thirteen regular readers to get the point when they read this column:

I like teachers.

My mother was a teacher for one year in a one-room schoolhouse over near Monticello. The building burned down at the end of the first semester. She had some strange stories about her experiences there. I really don’t think that she was responsible for the fire.

I was in love with several female type teachers throughout my time in grammar (that dates me, doesn’t it?) and high school. My number one love was a nineteen year old brunette who showed up to teach at Chattahoochee High School as I began my senior year.

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