On The Sly

Oh my gosh! Poke around on the internet with my morning coffee in hand and what do I find?!? Foxy Gagnon! Even though I was only a student of yours during the '75-'76 school year (moved to California during the last month of school), you left a great impression on me. I kept every paper I wrote in your English 1A class. My best effort was about a very bizarre dream I had which revolved around two canaries, Tweet and Peep, a large red-eyed rat that bit me, and a refrigerator filled with rats which exploded with rat guts. Your notes on my paper read, "Very descriptive. Strange story, but that's what makes it even more unique. A/A- = A Good luck wherever. Will miss you. Always remember "The Fox". Foxy

Well, Mr. Gagnon....I have done just that. Over the years I have occassionally pulled out my memorabilia from childhood and neatly stacked in a green folder are all my papers from your class. I learned a great deal from you and I so enjoyed your teaching style. Thank you so much!

And on a side note, the other teacher that left a huge impression on me was Mr. Z. Reading everyone's recollections warmed my heart tremendously. What a wonderful teacher he was!

Anyhoo..... :-D

(Foxy's note: Wow, a voice from the past. Nice to hear from you and nice to be remembered!)

Oh, boy do I recognize those names!! I was fortunate enough to be in one of Mr. T's last classes in 6th grade. I'll never forget what a 'shwiggle' is. I had Mr. Weisman and Mr. Taylor and loved being a shop rat. I still use my mouse shaped cutting board and the metal theater masks are still hanging. I remember playing with mercury in Mr. Jubert's class before it was dangerous and being in Mr. Stewart's class when the first Persian Gulf War broke out. Amazing what you can remember when given the prompt.

I started my 6th year of teaching middle school in August and hope I'm looking as fondly back in 30+ years. Thank you, thank you for the memories!

So glad to read these happy memories -- sounds like you were a tight knit bunch. I broke my arm in 7th grade and had the privilege of riding the elevator for a few weeks while I was on the mend. The elevator door on the top floor was right across from the door to the teachers' room. I vividly remember the laughter, chatter, and comraderie (and a bit of cigarette smoke!) coming from that room.

(Foxy's note: Jenny, your memory is correct! That faculty room was often full of smoke. My, how times have changed. Nowadays, the few remaining smoking teachers have to walk off school grounds to have their cigarette break. There was a time when teachers had an ashtray right on their classroom desk.)

Your reverie probably occurred in the early morning hours as you seemed to have missed some faculty and staff that must have arrived later. As a young man, you always did arrive early at the old building that was once Plattsburgh High School prior to its resurrection as Stafford Middle School in the late seventies.
Had your dream lasted longer you might have noticed Jenny Bedard and Mary Gagnier preparing the office for the busy day ahead and fielding calls from parents reporting a sick child who would not attend classes that day. Nearby Gail Calogne may have been preparing student folders for Al Clark's later guidance sessions.
Had you walked by the music room, you may have heard the melodic tuning of horns and strings as Mr. MacDougall and Mr. Kokes readied the instruments for the day's band and orchestra practices. Next door, Mrs. Strebendt would have been loading tapes and records for a music appreciation class.
I imagine Mrs Douglas and Mrs Claffey could have been setting up the old gym for classes while students peered down on the courts from the gym entry level one story above.
Mr. Abraham and Mr Durocher possibly had arrived right before the homeroom bell because they had to finish an electrical or painting job they were doing on a house that Mr Dingman, Mr Lalonde, Mr Sherman, and Mr. Rivers were constructing.
Mrs. Carlson, Ms Whipple, Ms Colver, Mrs Kie, and Ms Ryan no doubt were off by themselves in the third floor library enjoying a morning coffee and discussing the crazy antics of a young and frisky male faculty. Nearby, near room 31, Mr. Stanley and Mr. Ryan would be peering over the racing forms in the New York Post while Mr. Zatonski and Mr Nick peered over their shoulders trying to get the hottest tip of the day.
Maybe Mr. Sherman had sequestered himself in the far library corner preparing literature for his next run for President of the Plattsburgh Teachers Association.
Foxy, your reverie was most enjoyable but did not last long enough. You never saw Mrs. Lacey, Mrs Kangas, Mrs. Mitchell or Mr Baker, or even Mr Righi's new canoe resting comfortably on the third floor roof of a building so well remembered by so many people.
ABSARKA!
Jim

(Foxy's note: Jim, this is just what the blog needed! Thanks! You have a great memory, but you left out that MAI graduate who took my place in April of 1971 and made sure that Private Gagnon, US Army, got a bagful of letters at Fort Dix from the middle school students he missed so much.

That young MAI grad went on to help form the Communication Skills class, an innovative program for the 1970s. When he went into the business world, he was missed but never forgotten by his students.)

Foxy, I had Mr Z in the "old" middle school. His class as I recall was on the west side of the 1st floor and one day I heard this booming voice say " Vaughn quit clicking your pen!" When I looked he had this huge smile on his face. I never clicked my pen again. Many times years later at Clare & Carls he would ask me if I had clicked any pens lately. He never forgot. By the way Thanks for sending me The Stowaways DVD. I wish I had been there. Memories are cool.

I remember many of those you talked about from Sunday night basketball at the PHS Gym. Ray, John H., Nick, Paul, Ron G. Bob G. what a pleasure it was to be around them. The one person who made you feel welcome from the moment you arrrived was Z, he was truly a person who made the world around him a better place. My basketball stopped when we lost Z. I'd like to say thank you to many of the people you talked about for the the job they did teaching both my children and making the Stafford School a home away from home.

North Country Platoon , now that's a great idea for a weekly write up.

The Middle School was an amazing place. It was, and still is, a place where the transition from childhood innocence meets adolescent development and immaturity. Kids were brought together from four different elementary schools (three now) and for the first time, were molded together as a future graduating class of PHS.

The atmosphere was electric, slightly tense, and always jovial. If there wasn’t a fight between a west-ender and a south-ender it was considered a quiet day. At least once a week before the start of school, an unsuspecting soul could be found hanging from the flagpole cleat awaiting removal by his core of friends or Mr. Kirk. Folded notes were passed from student to student faster and more frequently than the common cold. The rumors of ‘first-dates’ and who was dating who was like a daily soap opera. Teachers could constantly be heard bellowing out everything from belly laughs to student names.

The teachers and staff at the Middle School were patient, tolerant, caring, understanding, resourceful, entertaining, personable, and most importantly, intriguing. Every one of them had a way of drawing a student’s interest and holding it, mesmerizing the student to learn and perform. Being a junior high school teacher is by far one of the most demanding teaching positions around. The teachers at the Middle School always seemed to exceed the challenge.

Ultimately, I believe it is the molding and growth of the young Plattsburgh Middle School Student that has made Plattsburgh the vibrant family-orientated community it is today.

(Foxy's note: Thanks for the comments, Kern. I saw your Dad last Friday and we spent a few hours tossing memories around.)

Hi Mr. Foxy,

It seems like just yesterday when I was a student at Broad St. and would walk down to PMS after school to get a ride home with my dad. Most years he had 9th period free so I used to meet him in the faculty room… I always had to ask permission to enter! I remember there was a photo by the telephone of my dad and someone else holding a banner during the teachers’ strike in the mid 70’s. On Fridays he always treated me to a Pepsi from the soda machine.

Beth is right- we could fit the whole neighborhood in our car (The Red Bomb) and the cigar would last until after dinner! That coat was raccoon and I can still smell it if I try. Ew!

What I cherish most about being a Faculty Rat are the friends I made. We used to draw on chalkboards, roam the halls after school (always making sure to be back in our parents’ rooms by 3:30 sharp) and play for hours on end at the faculty parties. In fact, a few of those kids are still my closest friends! We had such good times- and such good, caring, enthusiastic teachers, too.

You and your fellow blogateers remind me of how fantastic my childhood was!

(Foxy's note: Lisa is the daughter of "Mr. Z" and she and her brother Andrew are still very well-remembered by the faculty from those days.)

Foxy,

I often think about the teachers that I saw, on an almost daily basis, while I was at Plattsburgh Middle School but I hadn't thought about Mrs. Dyer in years. I specifically remember going to see her one afternoon and her telling me to go back to class because I didn't have a fever. This was normal procedure and I'm sure that not much has changed there. I knew something just wasn't right so I called my mom and she decided to come and get me.....fever or no fever. I ended up in the hospital that night, getting IVs and was there for a day or two. dehydration and diabetics don't get along. Now, this part is very important....
Mrs. Dyer was, in no way at fault, and I want to make that known. That wasn't the point of this story. After I came back to school, she told me that she was never going to take any chances with me again. The look of nervousness on her face, whenever I went to see her, from that day forward makes me giggle to remember it. That poor woman. And then there was the time that I told Mr. Murray that I was going to the nurse and walked out the front door of the school instead.....but, that, I think, is a story for another day. Thanks for the smile, Fox!

Glad to hear I am still remembered up there in the cold country. I plan to be in Plattsburgh next Tues-Friday to see friends and family and play some golf. You can give me a call at Econo-Lodge if you have an extra tee time or maybe I'll see you at the Ground Round.

(Foxy's note: Ken, I was hoping you would read this blog. I would love to talk to you about the formation of the NC Sports Collectors Club. Please call me when you hit the 'Burgh.)

Foxy you waxed nostalgic this evening. I remember all those scenes . I was only a short time at the Middle School {it was not Stafford at that time} before I went reluctantly to the HS, but I enjoyed it there as well.
The Middle School teachers had a a lot more parties and outings. For any event, or near event, there was a party, even Groundhog Day.
Perhaps the most memorable to me was the Maine Deep Sea Fishing trip. I remember vividly Big Z and his swarthy Greek color was phlegm colored white. Ray Lalonde adding chum from his internals into the sea and Big John Pelkey begging the Captain to turn the @#%$@ ship back home.
Good old Charlie Rust in his diminutive stature stood on the prow of the ship chomping on a tuna fish sandwich oblivious to his ship and workmates barfing into the sea.
Foxy, I haven't thought of that trip in years. As Bob Hope would sing, "Thanks for the Memories"

(Foxy's note: Maybe that trip alone would make an interesting blog -- as a warning to us city guys who think we can become deep-sea fisherman overnight!)

By the sounds of your dream I think myself, Wendy Daugherty Briggs and Allyson McCarthy may of gotten a ride to school with Mr. Z in his HUGE red car and if it was winter he was wearing a fur coat and smoking a cigar. Today I just sent my oldest to middle school at Shen in Clifton Park and it is nothing like what is described above. The good ole days in Palttsburgh nothing compares!!!!

(Foxy's note: Great to hear from one of my former students, Beth. Yes, times were different, and as soon as Z left the middle school at lunch he lit up that cigar, enjoying it on the way to Nick's Diner.)

Your comments bring back alot of memories. I was in one of the classes that opened the new building back in the late 70's. I'll bet John Haubner's white lab coat had a big red B on it. Also the old sports collectors club started by the Fox. I even remember a trip down to the Polish Community Center in Albany with the Fox. It was the trip where I bought the two sets of Pawtucket Red Sox cards. The ones with the Roger Clemens rookie card. I think my $10 investment may be worth a little more than that today. If it were not for you I wouldnt have those cards today. Thanks.

(Foxy's note: Craig Mathews and others have suggested a blog about the old Sports Collectors Club, both the one I started at Stafford and the one Ken Hoeltzel and others started in the community. Glad to hear I made it to at least one Albany Polish Community Center card show with students, because I know twice my car broke down on the way and it had to be towed back home.)