Believe it or not, there are times when I don’t have wine, even when we are out, usually because the selection is not what I think that it should be.  Now Mr. G., and not Dobie Gillis’ father was a Social Studies teacher to me at Woodrow Wilson Junior High School in Detroit.  And back then, Social Studies encompassed History, Civics, and Government; there could be more, but that was more than fifty years ago, so I can be a bit fuzzy.  Mr. G., went on to become a Vice Principal at Western High School, but he was the type of educator that every student should have.  He took an interest in teaching, and he remembered his students and he was also very civic-minded for the community.  On social media, I saw that a lunch was being planned for this teacher and I knew that I was going to go, and I asked my Bride if she wanted to go as well, and she accepted the offer.

We were all going to meet at Mexican-American restaurant in the old neighborhood, about a mile or so from the Junior High that created this bond for everyone.  Some of his relatives and family also attended the luncheon, and I am not sure, but I think they were originally going to have a surprise party, but it was decided against.  Now Mr. G., and his brother were even instrumental in getting a regulation ice rink built in the park, across the street from Western High School, and really was instrumental in introducing a large segment of Latino-Americans into the sport of hockey, which one doesn’t immediately associate with that group, and I am not showing a bias.  He and his brother were avid hockey fans, and once the rink was completed, the Detroit Red Wings even play a couple of exhibition games there, which is extremely popular with the locals and beyond.  I do tend to wander a bit, when I am writing a none wine memory article, but in over twelve years, I don’t do it that often.  My Bride had a Shrimp Fajitas dinner, and I was happy as they had Chicken Enchiladas with Molé Sauce.  The waitress did a magnificent job keeping all the individual tabs proper.  If they would have offered Mexican wines, that is what I would have had for this fun event, they didn’t we had Margaritas, my Bride has no salt, and mine is with.

To give you an idea, of how committed Mr. G., was as a teacher, when they had the first Wilson Junior High All-Year Reunion, and the first was at a large bar and our group was all seated in one section, he came with another teacher, the music instructor and he brought one of his saxophones and sat in with the band that was entertaining that night at the bar.  They also attended a couple of other reunions after that, and both teachers remembered their students, while the teachers really hadn’t changed, the students had, and yet for the most part, we were all remembered.  The last time, before this luncheon, I saw Mr. G., when all the students were allowed a walk-through at Wilson and talk about Kodak moments, tears and laughter abounded.  I got there a little late, as I was still part of the gainfully employed, as opposed to being gainfully retired that I am now.  After the luncheon as were driving home I pointed to the grassy field that used to be Woodrow Wilson Junior High and I am glad that I was part of the group that acquired a speaker’s podium from the school and the award plaque from the gifted flagpole from an earlier parent’s group that was on the front lawn.  I am just glad that over the years I have had the good fortune to encounter some of my teachers from elementary school on through college, but only a few can still celebrate and that is one of the pleasures of life.