In a Pickel

Ah, how could I not use a pun like this?

I was returning back to Maryland from Tennessee to Reagan National (I liked it better when it was just National) returning after a modestly brief holiday.

I had woken up just before 6 AM, something I'm not used to, to get on a flight at 7:50.

As I was seated in the modestly sized plane, I saw, in a distance (I was in the back) someone that looked vaguely familiar. Mr. Pickel!

Ah, those high school days where all teachers went by their honorific, as if they lacked a first name.

I took Mr. Pickel's class twice. Which is not to say I repeated his class, but that he taught two different classes. Once was in 10th grade when I took "Combined Studies". A rather clever idea whose cleverness only became apparent years after I completed it, the course was two courses: an English class and a world history class. The idea was to synch up the course so that if we read something in world history, we'd also read some literature related to that time period.

There was a team of maybe five who taught the course. Mr. Shedd, Ms. Wankerl, Ms. Kinnamon, and possibly one other. Can't recall. They'd give lectures in either the literature or history in back-to-back courses.

All the smart kids took this course.

In 11th grade, I took AP American History, and he taught that course too.

One thing I remember about Mr. Pickel was his enthusiasm. He always seemed like he was having a good time, and was always positive. He was friendly and everyone liked him.

When I saw him boarding, I realized it had been over 20 years since I had taken the course. That's quite a while. He'd gotten a little grayer, but otherwise looked like he did 20 years ago.

He was still just as cheery, happy to talk. I suppose I noticed just how extroverted he was. He sat behind me, so I had to contort and crane my neck in some DNA helical move that left me aching, but better me doing that than him. When I wasn't talking to him, he talked to the person seated beside him.

I suspected he'd talked to hundreds of anonymous people in this way. I could imagine him hosting some sort of Charles Kuralt like show as he went from place to place and talked to people along the way.

He had retired from teaching a few years ago, had his share of world travel (interesting how so many teachers spend their years traveling--how do they afford it?). He wanted to limit his travel to the US.

It's hard to say whether Mr. Pickel really remembered me. He sees so many students, that I can hardly he remembers everyone, but I think he has a better memory than most, and we did take the class a year, and he knew everyone in class. When I taught, I would teach to large numbers, and there were plenty of students I never knew that well, if at all.

We talked a little about teaching, a little about the changing technology of the world (he fit more in the old-school view, though he uses email). He said he no longer cared for phones, and preferred email. I'm sure so many people know him that keeping up in any other way is just too much. I told him Donald Knuth had given up on email. He, by contrast, gave up on the phone.

He said he had had a wonderful life so far, enjoyed what he had done, and was still enjoying life, and that given that, he's not sure he was willing to switch with a younger person, if that were at all possible.

And I think that's as positive a thing as one can say about their life.