  On righting a wrong, and remembering Ricki A letter that I received over the holidays planted a seed in my brain which needs to weeded out before it germinates and grows into an ugly guilt plant. This week seems to offer a perfect opportunity for some mind-gardening. The writer, who is a life-long area resident, was complimentary in regards to the columns and feature stories which appear from time to time in this space. In fact it was that admiration for the usually sensitive manner in which Random Notes is written that prompted her to question my failure to note the passing of a gifted educator this past summer. The answer is simple, although not satisfying even to me - hence the nagging feeling of guilt for an error of omission.
While it's too late to go back and reconstruct an expanded obituary about Mr. LaBrie, I am able to extend an olive branch to his family and friends. Jean Martin, a St. Johns 'lifer' and former student of Bob who just happens to be a very gifted writer, composed a personal tribute which did appear in an on-line publication, The Independent, at the time of his death. The response to Jean's column was positive - an indication of the respect and admiration felt by many of Mr. LaBrie's students and colleagues. With her permission, that article is reprinted here. 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. 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 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 quizzes, 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. * * * * In some ways, Ricki Dean - who I did come to know well enough to call 'friend' - displayed qualities similar to Mr. LaBrie. She was well-respected both as a teacher and an administrator, but - like Bob - her real claim to fame was in her interaction with students and parents. The comments from her colleagues in the expanded obituary contained in this issue testify to the strength of her character and her even-handed manner - every child was important in Ricki's eyes; each was of equal value. A note tacked to the 'Memory Board' at Ricki's visitation and a Bible passage that was quoted during the memorial service capture for me the essence of this always gracious and poised lady. Andrew Bowman, who must have been one of Ricki's Oakview students, had printed the following on his card of memory: "I felt sad and she always made me happy, and when I was in a fix she always solved the problem." The warmth of Ricki's smile made all of us - students and non-students - feel happy during times of sadness, and many problems were corrected by her capable hands over the years. Among the scripture passages that were selected for Ricki's memorial service was the following which is particularly pleasing to me. Philippians 4:8-9 has been bookmarked in my Bible for a number of years, and, in fact, has appeared previously in this space - but it's worth repeating here again. St. Paul writes: "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. "Those things which ye have both learned and received and heard and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you." Searching for - and finding - the good in every person and in each situation was at the core of Ricki's being. It's a wonderful legacy of a lovely lady. |
Although I held