I’ve worked with hundreds of staff members over my career. I can count on two fingers how many of their middle names I can recall, and I’m not really sure about the second. I don’t know why Iola Jean Perkins sticks, but it does.
I’ve included a couple more reflections regarding Miss Perkins below.
Another Lock Issue?
Prior to my arrival in Addison, there was no parent/teacher organization. The closing of the Devils Lake School, coupled with the reorganization on Addison’s main campus, brought about significant change for both our staff and our parents. Students, being the resilient souls they are, adopted to the change very quickly. Some of the adults struggled. Teachers who reported to three different leaders the year prior, now looked to me. As the new guy, they seemed like one unit, but I learned over time that the leadership change was more difficult for some than others. Parents were also looking for a new direction.
We started a Parent Teacher Organization (PTO) in the spring of 1978. The new organization provided a way for the teaching staff and the community’s parents to work together. One quick program adopted by the parents was providing dinner for the staff during parent/teacher conferences. It was a simple concept and a welcome innovation.
As one of the dinner breaks was drawing to a close, I was walking by the teacher’s lounge and a small group of three or four teachers was gathered outside the restroom door. They were talking to someone inside the single stall room. As I approached one of the teachers said, “Miss Perkins is trapped inside, and she can’t get the door open.”
I quickly surveyed the situation. The door hinges were on the inside, and there was no “emergency safety switch” on the outside to trigger. I offered up a quick, “Miss Perkins, have you tried turning the doorknob both ways?”
“Yes, and it won’t open.”
“Have you had dinner yet?”
“No.”
“How about I go get you a couple of pieces of pizza while we try to get this figured out? I can slide them under the door.”
While I thought that my attempt at humor was funny, Miss Perkins didn’t.
“Just get me out of here!”
As we were talking through the door our band of rescuers increased. Laurence Knowles, the husband of our library aide, was the last to arrive on the scene. He asked what was wrong, we told him, and he reached out and turned the handle. Magically, the door opened. I assumed that the first responders had tried the door before my arrival, so I didn’t. No one attempted the obvious until Laurence appeared. He saved the day.
Born To Be Wild
Miss Perkins retired the same year as three fellow elementary school staff members. She was joined by two teachers, Rena and Elaine, and one of our playground supervisors, Nelda. We had a nice dinner followed by a program to recognize several staff members for a variety of accomplishments. The entire K-12 staff and school board had been invited to attend. Most of them did. I was asked to speak regarding each of my retirees.
I did my best to offer up a bit a humor each time I was asked to speak at such events. Making people laugh helped me to hide my softer side. I found movie posters at the local movie rent-a-center, copied pictures from the elementary school year book, and glued each of the retiree’s “head shot” on a poster that I selected just for them. I
unveiled each poster as I spoke about each honoree.
I chose a motor cycle movie for Miss Perkins. She was the last person on earth that people would expect to see riding such a beast with her beehive blowing in the wind. When I unrolled the poster featuring her riding a “hog”, her expression was priceless. As she stepped up to accept her “gift”, we embraced, and for a moment I knew what Freddy must have felt like several years ago.
My single regret from the evening was my failure to locate a copy of Steppenwolf’s “Born To Be Wild”, which was released almost twenty years prior to our dinner. Playing it as Miss Perkins walked forward would have been the capstone of the evening. This is what we would have heard.
One Final Note
A few months after my arrival in Addison, there was an evening gathering at the school. I don’t recall anything about the event except a brief exchange that I had with Miss Perkins. She was sitting by herself in a chair just watching people come and go. I sat down beside her. We spoke of the nice crowd and positive vibe that everyone was feeling. Out of the blue she offered up a simple sentence. “You are a kind man.” I don’t know what prompted the compliment, but I never forgot it. Perhaps that’s why I took the time to remember her middle name.