Darn him,? The pompous ass.? Can’t he see what this will mean to the school and these kids?? Bryce couldn’t let this happen.? What was he going to do?
Thoughts bombarded him as he climbed the stairs of the old school building.? He took one step at a time, holding onto the banister, bringing his wasted leg and foot up last.? His collar and tie felt tight.? The flush of anger, the scowl on his face settled in deeper.? He would calm down before he faced his students.
Bryce Walker was a bachelor in his early forties–not tall, about five foot eight inches–rather stocky. Polio had left his left leg markedly shorter than the other and almost useless.? His large head sat on a short neck which handled a collar and tie comfortably.? Sparse black hair, carefully spread out, covered a head soon to be bald.? Freckles stood out on his hands and face; his complexion was ruddy.? His eyes were as black as his hair.? he was friendly, quick to smile.? When something struck him funn he threw back his head laughing with gusto.? His students loved him for that.? From the odor of cigarettes and a little black mint called “Sen-Sen” one, knew when he was near.? He was a clean man.? these were not stale odors.? Bryce Walker was also an alcoholic.
It was Spring of 1939.? His second year of teaching in this small community was coming to an end.? On his way to the music room he was summoned by the Principal.? He’d never gotten on well with John Davis, an “insipid little man with a self-important attitude.”
“The school budget cannot allow anything so frivolous as this trip to the state music festival.? Walker, you should have discussed this with me before raising the hopes of the students.? Now you must disappoint the,’ Davis said smugly.
Bryce said nothing.? He had a feeling there was more to come.
“Also,” Davis continued. “There is the matter of your alcoholism.? There have been hints.? This community will not stand for such behavior.? Therefore, your contract is not up for renewal.”? Davis? smirked piously.
Bryce remained silent.? He had wondered when Davis would come up with the drinking.? The man had known it all along.? Bryce wished he could vent his loss, his anger.
Finally, in a dismissal, Davis added, “Notification now should give you time to make other plans.”
Davis had taken a sadistic pleasure in his ‘dressing down’, but he was also right.? The school was short of money.? The community should not have to deal with an alcoholic teacher.
Calmly, he entered the music room.? Sandy Morris, the band’s majorette , met him at the door.? “Did he say okay Mr. Walker?? Will he let us do it?”? How could he tell her, “no”?
Before he could answer, others asked, “If we go do we get to use a bus?” “Wow, we can wear our new uniforms.”? “Will we get to practice in the streets again like you promised?”? He nodded.
A boy in the back added, “You’re the best, Mr. Walker.”? If felt so good to be called “Mister” again.
He’d been hired to teach English and history, with music thrown in.? The latter was his primary interest.? He, the students and their families had brought the department a long way.? At the end of each practice session, he marveled at how good these kids had become.? There were only twenty.? The school was small:? they had never had a band.? They took to it like ducks to water, worked their tails off.? They called him their Mister Music.? He’d never let them know he knew that, or how much it meant to him.
Their enthusiasm spurred the parents who helped to acquire new and used instruments.? Each parent saw to it that his student had a band uniform.? When the band practiced on the streets, everyone came out to listen.? Always there was a “Hi” or “Hello” for him.? This staunch support renewed him.? He hadn’t had a drink now for over a year — not that he hadn’t wanted one — but somehow he’d had the strength to say, “no.”
I love these kids, he thought.? Been a long time since I’ve felt that way about anybody or anything.? I have to think of something.? They deserve this trip.
That night it occurred to him that an activity sponsored by the music department could raise some funds.? If he got the kids started, he knew that the parents would back them.? No way could Davis interfere without losing face.? Bryce would worry about his dilemma later.
A community dance, held in the school gym, with a group from the band providing the music was the solution.? Most of the community turned out.? That evening several parents offered transportation and lodging to the festival for the students and himself.? The collection taken at the dance was enough to handle meals and incidentals.
What a time they had.? The band took several honors even though they were the smallest group there.? Bryce saw and felt their pride in him and in themselves, as they marched and played.? the parents supported them at every competition and followed the band through the entire parade route.
Bryce hadn’t had this much to feel good about in ten years.? What a high!
Shortly before school ended, Bryce asked to speak with the school board.? In a steady voice, he said, ” I am an alcoholic”? That was the first time he’d ever said it aloud.? “Because of my problem, I am told, my contract will not be renewed for the following year.? It’s feared that this community and my students might suffer because of my presence.? I will leave before I let that happen.? However, before I go, there are things that I must say.? I took this position because I thought I could, with a minimum of effort, teach, while I followed a course of self destruction.? I was not here very long, before I discovered a strength in the people of this community and most particularly, in my students.? Because of this, I became stronger.? The desire to wallow in self-pity, to drink myself into oblivion lessened.? This sounds easy.? It was not.? That’s what makes it so miraculous.? I would like to remain here to teach.? If that cannot be I will leave with the gratitude of a man who has been brought back to life.”
Mister Music remained.