I have never been a good speller, but I was in a spelling bee once, when I was in the 5th grade. Not by choice, of course. I rarely play games where I have no chance to win.
My goal was modest: Don’t be the first one to misspell a word, the first one to have to sit down. With a goal so modest I might not even have to spell one word correctly. Maybe someone would miss before the teacher got to me.
But they didn’t, and it was my turn. The teacher asked me to pronounce and then spell the word “said.” I pronounced it and spelled it just like it sounded:
“S-A-Y-E-D”
***
Spelling remained a problem for years — thank goodness for spellcheck.
When I was a senior at Garinger High School in Charlotte I took College Algebra from Karl Sawyer, a teacher who standards I did not meet.
He required all of us to fold and format our homework and test papers just so. He took points off if we failed to put a period after our middle initial, for example, or got the date wrong.
One day he passed out test papers and then turned to the blackboard, picked up a piece of white chalk, and began to print, talking as he wrote.
“There is in this classroom a young man who thinks he is going to college,” Mr. Sawyer said. “He can’t even spell college.”
On the board he had written “C O L L E D G E.” My classmates laughed.
I looked at my paper.
Mr. Sawyer had written “F” with a red grease pencil at the top of the page and circled the words I had written: “Colledge Algebra.”
Postscript: Because I failed Mr. Sawyer’s class I had to take College Algebra again when I got out of the Navy and enrolled at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. For the record, I made an “A.”
NOTE: I’m going to start the New Year –Monday, Jan. 1 — by posting “Lucky’s Best Story.” [Lucky is my trail name.] There is also a video of this story, made on the Appalachian Trial in 2015 when the Hiking Vikings and I stopped for lunch one day. Nate Harrington asked me to tell the best story I knew and I did.
Coming Monday: The [Sad] Carolers
Great story! Karl Sawyer was my father, and I graduated from Grainger in 1974. I spent 3 years there hearing my Dad’s name being taken in vain as I traversed the halls of that great school. I have heard many anecdotes from his former students. This one I’ll especially cherish. Thank you so much! Your brother met my son today, and that is how I found this post. I would love to talk with you. Blessings, Pierce Sawyer
Your Dad did not take prisoners.
When I was at Garinger, my dad would sometimes (generally when he was mad at me) say, “I wish I could have you as a student in my classroom.” Only recently have I realized the gravity of that statement. I always brushed it off. So glad it was school policy.
I also remember Mr. Sawyer. Whenever I am asked one of those secret questions, I always pick the question about my favorite teacher and then I type in Carl Sawyer.
Dave Stith.