Of all my education, including college classes, I learned more about local and national politics and government in 6th, 7th and 9th grades from two teachers. I will always be grateful for Ms. Ann Crass and Mr. Harrell Edmondson. Because of those two teachers, I developed an appreciation for the government that has kept our great nation free for almost 250 years.
In 6th and 7th grades, Ms. Crass was my social studies teacher. She loved politics, and in 6th grade in 1976 I studied all about the national presidential elections via the Weekly Reader. (As will be no surprise to any of you Dear Readers who know me well, I still have most of those wonderful Weekly Reader magazines in my basement.) Ms. Crass led our class through a mock presidential election. I was so mad that Jimmy Carter beat Gerald Ford.
In 7th grade, we were supposed to study from the social studies textbook for half a year (and it seems we did). The other half was to be devoted to Tennessee history. I was miffed that Ms. Crass slighted Tennessee history to study state government. I remember Ms. Crass getting a class set of the Tennessee Blue Book to help our study of state government. I think of Ms. Crass whenever I see one of those reference guides to state government. Ms. Crass had Tennessee State Representative James E. “Buzz” Elkins come speak to our class. I think of that every time I see the marker designating the James E. “Buzz” Elkins Highway between Clinton and Oak Ridge.
When I was a freshman at Horace Maynard High School, I took Mr. Harrell Edmondson’s civics class. I took the class as an elective. I didn’t even know what civics was. I wasn’t looking to learn about anything in particular, I just admired and respected Mr. Edmondson. He had been my 8th grade social studies teacher and was perhaps the kindest, most patient, and most intelligent person I ever knew. In those days before Google and internet, Mr. Edmondson either knew the answers to any questions I had or could tell me where to look for the information.
That year we received new civics textbooks. The cover of the book had a lovely picture of the American flag waving against a background of soothing, dark blue sky. Even though it was a textbook on loan to me as a student for that year, I was so proud of that book. Naturally, I craved one for my very own.
One day, I entered the school and went to my locker, which was directly across from a door that accessed Principal Joe Day’s office. I opened my locker to discover that I was the victim of arson!
It didn’t bother me in the least that my only pair of gym shorts was destroyed in the fire. Oh, the embarrassment I had endured during 8th grade because of those cursed shorts! I had the perfect excuse not to “dress out” for PE during the remainder of my freshman year. As a matter of fact, I never wore another pair of shorts until I started dating that woman I married.
It did greatly distress me that my lovely new civics textbook was destroyed. Of course, I was issued another copy, but it just wasn’t the same. It had been used by someone else, so it wasn’t “brand new” anymore.
I never for one minute assumed there was a “bounty” on me. I figured my locker was burned because it was directly across from Joe Day’s door. I guess the joke was on the arsonist, because Mr. Day knew nothing about the incident until I reported it upon discovery. It wasn’t even a big enough fire to set off the alarm.
Nevertheless, for the remainder of the year I shared a locker with classmate Gary Patrick. Gary loved to lean his biology book in such a way that it would fall on my head every time I opened that locker. I never learned—that thing fell on my head at least once a day for practically the entire year. I can still feel the sharp edges of the cover digging a hole into my scalp. It was too bad that no biological knowledge permeated my brain via osmosis—it sure would have helped prevent me from mutilating that earthworm in Ms. Peggy Cosby’s (now DeBusk) class in my sophomore year.
About ten years later, I was privileged to have Gary’s brother Jason in my 3rd grade class at Luttrell Elementary. I never held my biology book head injuries against Gary nor took my revenge on his wonderful younger sibling.
Just the other day, better than 45 years later, a friend of mine (I’ll call him C. W.) and I were reminiscing about my burnt locker. C. W. told me “the rest of the story”. There was a kid going around the school bragging about setting fire to my locker. Unfortunately for the braggart, he was an 8th grader, and, as many of the wounds we had suffered as 8th graders were still a little fresh, C. W. and a few other of my freshman classmates determined to get revenge.
According to C. W., they took the unfortunate, small-of-stature 8th grader and placed him upside-down in a freshman locker. C. W. explained that had they placed him right-side-up, he could have opened the locker from the inside. Besides, it was more novel to hang the offender by the coat hooks. It would have been poetic justice had they hung him in the same locker to which he set fire, so he could have smelled the ashes in his panic, but it probably was a different locker.
I suppose the less enlightened would say that my classmates didn’t exact this revenge because of me. It was just an excuse for them to have some fun; however, C. W. told me that I had friends, it just wasn’t cool for them to let me know at that teenaged time in life that they were watching over me. The arsonist had his fun, I was held blameless and vindicated, and my friends had the satisfaction of revenge and putting a loud-mouthed 8th grader in his place.
As we enter the Thanksgiving season, Dear Reader, we have so many things for which to be grateful, not least importantly those in our past who taught us and took our best interest at heart. None of us will ever know how many people went out of their way to help us without our knowledge, but it is obvious that none of us got to where we are without help. Such people heed the words of Matthew 6: 1-6:

1 Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.
2 Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
3 But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth:
4 That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.
5 And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
6 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.

It is not possible to reach out to everyone in our past who helped us, but we can determine to do our best to help others.
May your Thanksgiving be blessed, and may you be a blessing to others, even if they don’t realize it.

Answer to Question of the Week # 77
Why do bees have sticky hair? (Answer: Honey combs)

Question of the Week # 78
Why didn’t the girl tell the joke about margarine? (See next week’s article in historicunioncounty.com for the answer.)

Gratitude per email:
You gotta love the Irish
Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn't find a parking place.
Looking up to heaven he said, “Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, “Never mind, I found one.”