Volcanoes
We studied volcanoes in fifth grade. Although Michigan is volcano free, it was a part of our study. Mr. Reese didn’t just talk about volcanoes. He had built one to share with his students. Talk about cool. That was the coolest.
Mr. Reese’s volcano was an honest to goodness, as real as it gets, mind-blowing, be careful not to set the desk on fire, eruption extravaganza. I’m sure that Mr. Reese talked about where volcanos were located, how they came to be, and their purpose in the eco-system, but I was only interested in the explosion. Pure and simple.
I don’t remember the chemicals involved, but I do remember that he told us to stand back because once, and I believe only once, his desk caught on fire during a demonstration. He wanted us to be aware of the danger so that we were prepared for a potential desk flip should the experiment go awry.
The experiment went off without a problem. It was the most dangerous thing that I ever witnessed in my elementary school career.
Juan Batista
My memory has a man named Juan Batista stuck in it. The real name of the man who I remember is Fulgencio Batista. I don’t know why Juan replaced Fulgencio until today, but he did. Here’s the rest of the story.
Just before lunch on a historic day in fifth grade, one of my fellow classmates, Kirk, made a derogatory remark regarding Cubans. Another classmate, Shelly, was Cuban.
I was surprised that he made the statement and thankful that we were about to be dismissed for lunch. I was equally surprised to see Shelly’s mom and her slide projector when we returned to school. Shelly had apparently gone home, told her mom about the comment, and her mom contacted Mr. Reese. In any case no one made a big deal about the comment, but we did get a lesson about the country of Cuba.
Shelly’s mom had several recent pictures of the beautiful country and its people. She also had a few pictures of the current Cuban president, Fulgencio Batista. The single picture that I remember from that day, and our lesson about Cuba, was a picture of Shelly seated at a grand piano with President Batista who was a close family friend. I found the picture of a fellow classmate seated with the president of anything to be exciting.
Within a very short time, Fidel Castro and his regime overthrew the government of Batista. I don’t believe that any of this would be lodged in my memory if it weren’t for Kirk’s comment.
Shotgun Shells
Mr. Reese was a great story-teller. Every story had a purpose. Many of his stories were a way for him to tell us how to avoid trouble. His story about shotgun shells was such a tale.
When Mr. Reese was about our age, he conducted an experiment in his childhood garage. He had a shotgun shell that he decided to take apart. I believe that he was seeking the B-Bs (shot) contained within the shell . He pried the folded top of the shell back and successfully removed the B-Bs. There was a second part of the shell below the B-Bs. He decided to pry this open too.
He was unable to open the next part of the shell so he put it in a vice to hold it securely in place. Then he placed a screwdriver inside the shell and hit it with a hammer. BOOM!!! The shell discharged, blew off one of his fingers, and grazed the side of his head. He was missing a finger and had a scar on the side of his head which dramatically provided the ending of his story.
If he had leaned a little more over the shell to see his work as he tapped the hammer, he wouldn’t have lived to tell the tale, and I would have had to have another woman elementary school teacher.