Last night I posted about running into a high school classmate of mine whose son I now teach. That prompted me to call someone I haven't talked to in several months, my old high school counselor.
He and my former high school principal were both former math teachers, and started teaching in 1957. My class graduated in 1983--and he can still tell stories about my things that happened with my class. His memory is exceptional for someone who describes his age as "a few years older than three to the fourth power".
Tonight I learned that he was born in Canada to American parents--and that his first language was German! As he was going to school during WW2, he learned English pretty quickly.
He's such a good and humble person. He's mobbed like a rock star when he shows up at our class reunions--and let there be no doubt that he's been invited to every one of them.
If I have only a fraction of the impact on my students that he had on his in 60+ years of working with teenagers, I'll be able to consider myself a success.
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