A few memories of the teacher, Bob LaBrie

If you had been seated in the old Rodney B. Wilson High School library any day during the late 1950s and early 1960s, you certainly would have heard him. Two classrooms away and with all doors closed, you still would have heard Bob LaBrie teaching French, Spanish or English in his own inimitable style.

It was his special laugh has proved to be completely unforgettable. It would begin as a chuckle deep in his throat. From there it progressed ever higher and louder until it erupted in a shudder of open-mouthed glee. There was never anything like it, and there will never be another.

There was an English class that met during the last hour of the day. There also was a freshman girls’ locker room in the farthest possible reaches of the basement. Showers were mandatory; and only four minutes were allotted to towel off, dress, and fight the way through the halls to Mr. LaBrie’s room. In the doorway stood Mr. LaBrie in his white shirt, tie, and business suit, arms folded, watching and waiting — always watching and waiting.

Bob LaBrie and Don McCorkle, MSU vs. U of M

In those days Bob’s alma mater, Michigan State University, was doing well in football. There were little felt Big Ten pennants posted on the south bulletin board listing the weekly standings. Week after week the pennants would shift. One week the MSU pennant would be on top, and the U of M pennant would be below it. On a Monday after a Michigan win there would be much bickering between Bob LaBrie and Mike Beechem, the resident U of M fan, regarding pennant placement. Newspapers were produced, and irregular verbs were set aside briefly. The noise level became detectable in the library. Then the class would return to business again. Missing homework often brought forth much pacing with a pointer slapping Bob’s open palm. He had a favorite parody of Rudyard Kipling's "Gunga Din" that he trotted out for such occasions. It began:

Oh, it’s din, din, din
With no papers handed in
And you stammer with the grammar when you speak . . . .

There were also quiet and almost personal times. Students were forbidden to call the Spanish Club the Casino even though that was the Spanish word for Club. On one club meeting night his wife, Bonnie, was going to be out; so Mr. LaBrie had to hold the meeting at his house while he took care of his three beautiful little daughters. After he had wrestled each little child into a fluffy sleeper, he headed for the kitchen where he made cocoa for all of his guests.

Bob LaBrie was loud, and he was always right. There came a time, however, when he found himself eyeball to eyeball with a student. She was demanding a perk to which she felt entitled. With all of the hubris of youth she stood her ground, and she was dead wrong. Yet Bob LaBrie backed down, awarded the favor, and apologized to the student. It takes a big man to hold on to his principles, but it takes an even better man to apologize when he is not even wrong.

Students caught up in the endless round of written assignments and pop quizes, never dream that one day they might be attending the funeral of that teacher who rules the classroom with such an iron hand and so much humor. If they did, they might find some sense of relief in the realization that this, too, shall pass. At the same time the teacher might justly be gratified to know that some, who knows which ones, will return many years hence to offer a belated thank-you for lessons taught and sometimes even learned.

We will miss Bob LaBrie, and we will not soon forget him.