Whenever I see Mr. G., he says "Hello Bobbi G. How are ya?" Mr. G. was my 7th and 8th grade math teacher and my Spanish I and II teacher in senior high!
I suppose I will always be Bobbi G. to him. Sometimes, he laughs and says "Oh but your not Bobbi G. You're Mrs. Aakhus I suppose now!"
My dad said that Mr. G. was his favorite teacher because he never yelled. He was always soft spoken and kind. Mr. G. had been my dad's math teacher. He often told me how smart my dad was. I believed him.
Mr. G. goes to my church. Sometimes, if I haven't been to church in while and I finally go; Mr. G. will hug me and tell me he's missed me. IF THAT'S NOT A GUILT TRIP! But, it works!
It seems as though whenever I ask a high school friend who their favorite teacher was they almost always say Mr. G.
2 comments:
Mr. G does the same type of thing to me too. I saw him at a union retirement party last year where I had to speak and he said he was proud of me and that he didn't notice any dangling participles in my speech!
I think both he and Mr. Jackson were some of the most caring teachers I ever had.
What an awesome guy! He takes piano lessons every week with Peggy Miller! A new hobby!
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