Those voices from the past

Ever get one of those phone calls that start out, “Are you ___________? You may not remember me, but . . .” I’ve gotten several of those over the years. Most of the time those voices from the past lead to a delightful re-connection with past acquaintances: long lost friends, former colleagues and students, old college roommates, maybe even a former girl- or boyfriend. This evening I got one of those calls, but it was one that left me with mixed feelings.

The caller turned out to be a former teacher at the school at which I was a principal. He taught sixth grade and was one of those teachers you wish you could clone. Responsible, dedicated, and creative, “Mr. E.” as he was affectionately called, was one of those teachers students loved. He was the kind who would teach fractions by dressing up in a baker’s outfit—apron and fluffy chef’s hat included—and cut pies into slices to teach by going from the concrete to the abstract. Since he taught our highest grade he also was the one that the students would say “goodbye” to when leaving our school to move on to their futures (many of those students having spent most of their childhood at the school from pre-school). Need I say that Mr. E, being the kind of teacher he was, had a rough time of it at the end of every school year?

We chatted for a bit, catching up on things. It turns out that Mr. E is now in law enforcement in Miami, still at the city in which we’d worked together. Mr. E. explained the motive for his call. He shared about hearing a news item about a Broward police officer having been shot. When he heard the officer’s name over the news he thought he recognized the name. But it wasn’t until the news services splashed a photo of the officer did Mr. E realize that the name he’d recognized was that of a former student. Looking at a school yearbook he confirmed that indeed officer Maury Hernandez was a former student. Glancing at a photo of me in the yearbook Mr. E decided to track me down and give me a call.

I remember Maury as a really great kid and good student. He always had a smile on his face and was one of those kids with enough of a sense of self to be able to look an adult in the eye when speaking. His parents were delightful people, and I remember them well. It’s always hard to imagine the kids I had at the school as adults in the present—they tend to remain frozen in time in the folds of my memory and in between yearbook pages.

The news is not good for Maury, as you can read in the news stories. I’ll covet your prayers for Maury and his family. I cannot begin to fathom what Maury’s parents are experiencing right now. As a parent of a police officer, myself, I appreciate that this is the worst of all fears realized. My heart goes out to them.

Mr. E and I are planning on getting together in January when he’s in town for a conference. I hope our meeting then will remember Maury one way rather than another. Pray that it is so.

UPDATE for Aug 8, 2007 here.