In the spring of 1967 I was in Grade 11. Physics was the science component of the curriculum. Unfortunately, I was no Sheldon Cooper and the natural laws of the universe largely eluded me. What made physics bearable for myself and a number of other struggling scholars was the teacher, Mr. Hill. I remember that he had wavy, black hair that he wore slicked straight back. He wore round, black rimmed Harry Potter glasses long before Harry Potter was even a twinkling in J. K. Rowling’s eye. If I recall correctly he had a slight speech impediment but this in no way effected his ability to be understood.
During March Break of that year a fellow student went to Mexico with his parents. He didn’t bring back any illicit drugs or a case of an embarrassing social disease but he did return with several switch blade knives. These were the real deal. Push a button on the side of the grip and the blade would spring out and lock into place with a notable “click”. This was the first time any of us had seen anything like this outside of television or the movies. As I said he brought back several knives, all of which quickly sold.
One of the buyers just happened to be my lab partner in physics and a good friend, Claude. I suppose there is no sense owning a switch blade unless lots of people know you have it. What better way to announce the fact that you are the proud owner of an illegal weapon than to start playing with it in class. On this fateful day Mr. Hill was teaching his lesson, speaking to the class and then turning around to write important points on the blackboard. Each time he turned his back to us Claude would hold up the knife in plain sight and hit the open button. The blade would fly into place making its distinct clicking sound. When it appeared that Mr. Hill was about to face the class again the knife would disappear. Mr. Hill was no dummy and he could sense from all the giggles and smiles that something was going on. Finally, without warning he did the fake turn and the jig was up. Claude never saw it coming and hit the button just as Mr. Hill faced the class. The knife flicked open to be followed by a deafening silence in the room. We were all waiting to see how Mr. Hill would react. To his eternal credit he reacted with a nonchalant sangfroid. His only words were, “Claude, put the knife away.” I’m sure that at the end of class there were other words with Claude to the effect that such toys should go home and stay home. But that was the end of the incident. I don’t remember any physics from that year but I will always remember Mr. Hill’s composure when faced with a situation you don’t learn about in teacher’s college.
It should be made clear that Claude had no intention of ever using the knife on anyone. We absolutely didn’t do those kind of things in the 1960s. However, if this had been biology class then a fetal pig, a pickled perch, a preserved frog or a sheep’s eye could have been in real trouble.
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