Frank,
Sorry to learn of Fran's death. I have fond memories of and great respect for him. If I might share a thought:
I had Fran as my 9th grade, history teacher at Scott -- the only year I had the privilege of attending there, I think in 1964-65.
I recall one afternoon, right after lunch period, we were waiting for him to return, to start our class. He walked in through the door in the back, carrying a thick, three and a half-foot long, wooden paddle.
As he walked towards his desk in the front, he amusingly asked, "Anyone want a swat?"
"Sure, I'll take one." I said, surprised by my own bravado.
"Well, stand up." He said, playing along while gaining a better grip on the handle. He approached my desk with me standing, in the middle of the classroom, as I smiled, looking straight forward.
Then, he let it go. "W h a c k! !"
It was in fun and at half speed. But, because he was so strong, his half speed was something akin to a butt-bruising, fraternity "hell night" initiation! Or so it seemed to me.
My face kept the smile, but, I'm sure it turned 14-degrees of red.
"Want another?" He asked.
"No!" I managed to force out, through my now, paralyzed mouth, hoping to maintain the "cool" for the rest of the class.
I think that was the last time I ever volunteered for anything!
Thank-you for keeping us informed and for allowing me to consider my experiences there and his influence in my life.
Best Regards,
Rick Hawthorne
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