[ArmstedFragg]

My Dad used to say that he’d spent thirty years in inner city schools, then looked carefully at his certificate one day and realized it said “teacher” not “warden”, so he quit.

[imardmd1]

If he survived thirty years in such schools, here's a secret he might have learned:

The 8th grade I was in had gotten a real bad reputation of unruliness and trashing teachers. The worst of us was Freddie. It was well known that he could and would really hurt you in a fight, with relish. And he was clever in frustrating the teachers, who had all been women.

So the principal hired a WWII P-51 pilot, a man that had been a reform school teacher for a few years. On the fall school opening day, his first words to us were:

"I'm Mr. Peck. You are mine and this is my room. If any of you boys give me any trouble, you will meet Freddie after school. Freddie, if you give me any trouble, you will meet me after school. Do you all understand this, as of right now? Yes, or -- No?"

There were no "Noes" and we spent the rest of our school careers as governable class members. Mr. Peck later became Vice Principal. He attended our 35th high school class reunion, having finished his years in that school.