School Story:
One of the very best times I remember were our Spanish Club trips to various parts of Mexico over the summers before my junior and senior years. Mrs. Steele was our Spanish teacher and she and her close friend, Jaime, sponsored us on these trips. We were to speak no English once we got there, and many of us had never eaten a traditional Mexican meal (I, for one, was expecting Tacoburgers...saw not a one.) The buses were not air-conditioned (we Smelled like Teen Spirit!) and we traveled on dirt roads all the way to Acapulco on one trip, we trekked up Mayan Ruins and took in a bloody Mexico City bullfight. In Acapulco, we saw firsthand the incredible wealth that the tourism trade brought to a very small part of the community near the gorgeous beaches, and in the next block behind the 30-story hotels, the tremendous poverty of those who did most of the labor. It affected me. I brought home my first guitar, mandolin and chess set from one of the Mexican street markets. Still have 'em and play 'em. I'll also never forget playing in marching band at South High (the kids in bands today in Wichita still play those old Chicago and Blood, Sweat and Tears songs we played - no kidding) and learning about great literature from Mr. Wolfe, surviving the violent racial tensions right there in our schools, and now 35 years later, to see an African-American become our president in such a critical time for our country. Glad I lived to see it. Anyway, I digress. The teachers at South High and my few but close young friends influenced who I am today and made me a much better man.
