“He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull. His voice was deep, loud, and his manner displayed a kind of dogged self-assertion which had nothing aggressive in it. It seemed a necessity, and it was directed apparently as much at himself as at anybody else. He was spotlessly neat, appareled in immaculate white from shoes to hat, and in the various Eastern ports where he got his living as ship-chandler's water-clerk, he was very popular.”
So begins Joseph Conrad’s novel about an accident at sea and the complex character whose error in judgment haunts him for the rest of his life. Today I’m thinking about another Jim, also complex and who somewhat fits the description above (except that he was several inches over six feet and was not appareled in white): one of my favorite high school teachers, Jim Wall. As you will see from the quotations below, I am not alone in my affection for Mr. Wall. But he had the added dimension to me of being, first, our next-door neighbor on Ingomar Road soon after he and Joanne were married, and then, the neighbor four doors up from us as the babies began to arrive. Five kids, four boys. Having just spent the past week with two small boys, my admiration for the Walls’ ability to keep their sanity—cheerfully—only grows.
I had one disagreement with Mr. Wall in 11th grade English class, however, and that concerned the readability of the novel he assigned: Lord Jim by that linguistic paragon Joseph Conrad, born Josef Teodor Konrad Kurzeniowski (1857-1024). Conrad was a Pole who wrote 20 novels and many short stores always in English, his third language. He’s the guy we ESL teachers hold up as a role model to our struggling students. (I admit I took fiendish pleasure in reading recently that although Conrad became a master prose stylist in English, he never spoke our mother tongue fluently.)
Clearly Mr. Wall saw something in Lord Jim that remained impenetrable to 16-year-old me. I read and re-read the first two chapters in confusion. Who was telling the story? What had happened and when? And to add to my frustration, it was about the British navy and their sailing ships, a subject that completely bored me. Why couldn’t Wall have assigned Jane Austen or one of the Brontes?
Finally, I told him that I just couldn’t stand this book. He did not seem too surprised at this confession, and generously suggested a substitute: The Nigger of the “ Narcissus,” another Conrad sea novel! So I swallowed hard and wearily slogged through it.
Four years later at Allegheny College, I butted heads again with Joseph Conrad. This time I was required to read Heart of Darkness for a Comp Lit class—and I loved it. Thanks to developing some maturity and learning that a story doesn’t have to be plot-driven or told in a linear fashion, that developing the psychological state of a character is one of the things that makes literature an art, I “got” Conrad. (Maybe it helped that the setting was a jungle, no ships.) Anyway, I’ve always regretted that I never told Mr. Wall I finally appreciated his favorite writer. I realize now he was trying to stretch our brains and make us work to appreciate sophisticated fiction. Perhaps he also wanted us to realize that our idealism would eventually have to be tempered by the hard realities of making mistakes and dealing with the consequences. In the words of Marlowe, the principal narrator in Lord Jim:
“It is when we try to grapple with another man's intimate need that we perceive how incomprehensible, wavering, and misty are the beings that share with us the sight of the stars and the warmth of the sun.”
* * *
This week I asked some 1958 NAHS classmates about their favorite teachers. I hope you’ll enjoy reading their responses as much as I did. And I would welcome any other class members to offer your testimonials about teachers you liked—either by clicking on “Comments” or by sending an email to Sniper.Sweeney@gmail.com.
Did you have a favorite teacher at NAHS?
Bill Bauer: “In our junior 
year, I was enrolled in Mr. Conway’s social studies class. Toward the end of the term, there was a major paper due and I, of course, had given the matter no attention whatsoever. On the morning of the day that the composition was to be submitted, I somehow secured something that had been written by, I think, Georgie Richard’s older sister two years before. There were, you will recall, no copy machines save those god-awful mimeos. So I, in a display of inventive genius, cut nearly an inch from the top of the title page to eliminate reference to Ms. George and in very close proximity to the top of the shortened page, typed my name. I was reasonably sure that Mr. Conway would not notice that the new first page was 8- 1/2 x 10 inches in size and that the font employed in spelling out my name was different from that used in all of the other words contained in the treatise.
I was wrong. At the next session Mr. Conway did not return a graded paper and asked me to stay for a private discussion after the bell. To my great surprise, he didn’t lecture me on the evils of plagiarism or sloth. Instead, he reminded me that fellow students would routinely listen attentively when I delivered a silly rendition of some hastily gathered news article during the “current events” portion of our class time. He asked if I had given any thought to what I might like do with my life after high school. When I stared at him blankly, he suggested college. Then, to my absolute amazement he proposed a thing that I greatly, greatly yearned for but couldn’t reveal, even to myself. I might, he said, pursue a career in education. I might, he said, be a teacher. Duane Conway was a caring, considerate and helpful person. And, to its credit, the District recognized those qualities and made him – I’m pretty sure – its first full-time counselor.”
Kathie Boyer Schellhaas: “Of course I had a favorite teacher, and friend for many years as Bill and I would see him at the [class of] 1957 reunions and around town. He was so personable, had a good sense of humor and was interested in all students’ achievements. Mr. Wall, who unfortunately has since died.”
Joe DeVitto: “Are you really asking me to go back 50 years to remember some people? I have a tough time recalling what happened last week. Well, here goes. A great favorite was 
Mr. DeAugustino, who was in charge of drivers’ education. He had a lot of patience. Wow, that's how we got our driver’s license then.
I also liked Mr. Cicero, our Spanish teacher. I didn't remember any Spanish 20 yrs later, but his classes were always colorful, informative and enjoyable. Mr. Burton was great. He showed me how to make my first tack hammer in machine shop. It looked like a chrome statue after all the polishing. I took it home and told everyone it was a trophy.
Mr. Drazenovich always had a coaching way of getting me through gym classes. He had me lifting weights and jumping all over the place. I remember the horses, parallel bars, trampolines, wrestling, and all that good stuff that I couldn't do well.
A real favorite was Mr. Keller, who always talked in a monotone and put me to sleep in trigonometry class. I can remember asking him one day how the Russians put Sputnik in orbit, and his answer consumed the rest of the class period.
I think my favorite was Mr. James Wall. He was a great teacher and had a lot of patience. He was the kind of person who took so much, and then Pow!, put you in your place. I respected and admired him for that.”
Henry Ford: “I have to say that my all-time favorite teacher was Mr. Wall. I also
liked Coach Drazenovich, Mr. Matthews, Mrs. Anderson, Mrs. Costello, and Mrs. Dancer.”
Mildred Halboth Sutter: The teachers I admired the most were Mr. Chipley, Mr. Wall, and Mrs. Letzkus--they were all excellent.
Ron Huch: “It was actually 
Coach Drazenovich who had the most influence on me. I was not an athlete, but his gym classes and the way he treated me stand out in my mind. I remember one time when he decided to make the class do calisthenics, but said anyone who did not think it was fair could walk out. I walked out, looking over my shoulder to see if anyone else was following. No one was. You can imagine what I was thinking. A while later, Coach called me in, as I expected, but what he said I did not expect. He congratulated me for walking out and gave me an A. What a wonderful lesson that was for someone who, at the time, had so little confidence in anything I did. I always appreciated Coach’s sense of humor and his genuine caring about students, but from that class onward he was golden in my memory.”
Paul Mahoney: “My favorite teachers are Joe Drazenovich, Lyle Fox, and Jim Wall. Joe
and Lyle were my football coaches, and they taught me the importance of working as part of a team. Jim Wall for his great sense of humor; it made his English class one of my favorites.”
Terry McMahon: “I played 
basketball for NAHS for four years and that first year with no seniors we got killed. Didn't win a game, didn't even come close. But yet there was a silver lining for me. I got to play as a freshman and Chuck Horne, our basketball coach, took me under his wing and really shaped my future. He would pick me up at my house everyday during the
summer for three years at seven in the morning, and we would go to his friend’s house somewhere around Perry High School. This guy had a basketball court in his backyard, and [Coach Horne] would teach me to play all day long.
As a consequence, I received a free ride to Geneva College, where I played for four years. Believe it or not, I'm still playing. My granddaughter, Danielle, is in ninth grade at Central High School here in York PA. She is their starting center. She called me up when she was in sixth grade and asked if I would teach her to play basketball. Again history repeats itself; we practice every nice day all year long. Now I'm still teaching, only my group has grown to four other girls as well. Since I love to teach basketball, the more the merrier.”
Nancy Meier Reeder: “My favorite teacher was Miss
Warner, chorus, she was very, very soft spoken but a no nonsense teacher. She was very talented and made everyone want to use their musical skills to the fullest. I really enjoyed her class every day.
I also was very fond of Mr. Fulmer. He was a very dedicated teacher and made you want to learn. I had the good fortune to become reacquainted with him and Mrs. Fulmer when his youngest son, Tim, played little league baseball with my son, David. Hope this information is helpful to you. Of course, everyone loved Mr. Wall.”
Marilyn “Mickey” Michalko: “Your inquiry sent me straight to my high school yearbook to the Teacher Section. I had never noticed or realized how young a lot of them were nor how many of them had their Master’s. I guess I would have to say that my favorite teacher in high school was Mr. Cicero, the
Spanish teacher. I remember taking an English grammar test on the first day of class and anyone who did not pass was not allowed to take Spanish. His reasoning was that if the student did not understand the grammar of his mother tongue, the student would not be able to comprehend the grammar of a foreign language. The second day of the class and that day forward, he spoke only in Spanish unless he was explaining the intricacies of Spanish grammar. He was strict, explained things well and ran an orderly classroom. I did major in Spanish with a minor in business in college, but then spent the next 15 years speaking only English to my kids, so I lost a lot. When I taught ESL as a volunteer to Hispanics in Mississippi and California, I guess I used Mr. Cicero’s method—speaking English and using non-verbal ways of communicating what the words meant.”
Jack Miller: “I am writing about my Spanish teacher Mr. Cicero. Hard to believe but by being in International Rotary, I have had house guests from Spanish-speaking countries. Also I had an exchange student for one year from Chile. A little bit of Spanish was helpful. ¡Sí, Senora!”
Bill Young: “One memory 
which is still quite vivid is Joe Wissinger’s Geography class in 8th grade. I think he was forced to teach Geography because there were no classes in Biology to teach that year. Neither the class members nor Joe were very enthused about Geography. Probably half a dozen or so times that year, someone would ask him, “How does corn reproduce?" or "Why do some people have blue eyes?" He would ask if we were really interested in the topic. When he received a resounding YES, he would cover the blackboard with data, and he showed his true passion for teaching Biology. I probably would have no idea today about how chromosomes effect reproduction if he had not made it so interesting.”
If you need to get in the mood, listen to The Four Freshmen sing “Graduation Day,” (recorded, 1956) by clicking on the highlighted title.
Bolvin, one of the faculty advisers to our class, gives us a pep talk before the rehearsal, where we will practice marching down the aisles to the strains of Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstances,” played by our classmate Christine Ferguson. I remember Mr. Bolvin telling us that it had been a pleasure to advise us, and that our class had an interesting mix of students, a balance that the two earlier graduating classes hadn’t had. I think he meant that all of the various high school types were represented (leaders, brains, athletes, artists, hard-workers, hot-rodders, and law-breakers). 
The baccalaureate service had been held on the previous Sunday evening, but not everyone had attended and we had only filed in together minus the pomp. For tonight’s graduation ceremony, we need to practice the hesitation step. The girls (who would wear white gowns, heels, and caps with the tassels secured by bobby pins) catch onto the rhythm pretty quickly; most of the guys (to wear black academic robes and mortarboards with tassels clunking them on their noses) never do. As I recall, some drill sergeants (Mmes. Fulmer and Bowman, maybe?) are posted on each side telling us when to turn and how much space to leave before following the preceding graduate as we enter from the foyer at the back and come down the side aisles of the auditorium.
held for commencement speakers. We had to present a 5-minute speech on the general theme “What we owe” before a panel of teachers. Those selected, who were now sweating profusely up on stage, spoke in this order: Bob Beilstein, “What we owe to parents and faculty”; Marjorie Downer, “What we owe to our friends”; Peggy Peterson, “What we owe to our country”; Barbara Sweeney “What we owe to ourselves”; and Bill Vestal, “What we owe to faith.” The audience was requested to please reserve their applause (otherwise the thunderous ovations likely to erupt after each of these talks might have seriously delayed the proceedings).
