Dear Mrs. Gagnet,
When I was your student in 1975 at Myrtle Grove Elementary School in Pensacola, Fla. (back then states had three letter abbreviations), I had a crush on you. Even though more than 30 years has passed, and you've been long married, changed your last name, had kids and grand kids, perhaps gone a little gray, and maybe not even be with us on Earth any longer, my memory of you as a newly graduated out of college twenty-something is fresh in my mind.
You always had my attention, not just because of your beauty, but because you had important things to say. You were honest in telling us if an atomic bomb went off nearby that the "duck and cover" drill we had to pracice wouldn't do us any good. I felt comforted when you said you wouldn't leave us alone in the classroom, if the bomb went off.
In the playground, you stopped the bullies from picking on me. And at lunchtime, you made sure your seat at the teachers' table was close to my class table; to keep an eye on us.
Back then, you had to teach every subject and with hindsight, that couldn't have been very easy. I especially liked the way you sang during music time. You got us all started on a chorus and you'd sing the lead or picked a song we could all do together.
On rainy days, you'd come into class with a hat on your head. Being French, I wondered why you never wore a baree'. On hot days, you'd roll up your sleeves like you meant business, as if you were about to bake a cake or butcher meat. One time, the principal called you over the intercom to go to his office. All of us students were unsupervised for about five minutes. I figured out that this was some kind of psychology experiment, and we were being monitored from the hallway and over the intercom. You came back a little disappointed that we didn't go berserker and tear the classroom or each other apart. You thanked us anyway for being such good boys and girls.
Since then, I've done a lot of growing and learning. I'm still doing a lot of growing and learning. Through the martial arts, I've also become a teacher and I hope you'd be proud that you've helped shape a person who could've gone on to do selfish things, but instead chose to do something selfless.
I often have lots of time to myself, usually very late at night after work and after teaching. I work on my writing projects and on something called a "blog." When I get bored with writing, I grab my guitar and play for awhile. Still, I wonder what life would've been like if I had stayed in Pensacola like my father had originally planned for us. I had Mrs. Whatley for 3rd grade. Who knows? You could've been my teacher for 4th grade.
As for sweethearts, I had a few out hear in California. But, nothing long-lasting. These days, it's hard to compete with the records of yester-year. So many people are moving too fast to get to nowhere. They think they know what they want, but settle for something different over the next horizon. I miss the comfort of my careless childhood. Sesame Street was dependable. 15 cent chocolate milks at the barber's shop by the school was dependable. Heck, even the racism was dependable.
And...Mrs. Gagnet's turtleneck sweaters, short skirts, and go-go boots were dependable! Let's face it, people. My first grade teacher was plain sexy. She looked a lot like Jeannie C. Riley (she recorded "Harper Valley PTA" in 1968). She didn't dress like that every day. Man, but when she did...wowzers!
So Mrs. Gagnet (and her family) please accept my most sincerest apologies for not being a gentleman in this instance. I've waited thirty years to get that off my chest.
I feel better now.
-Ernie, Chief Lab Rat
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