It’s all about writing what you know, as they say. So, since it’s Teacher Appreciation Week, we’re stepping back several decades to show some appreciation for RFH teachers we knew and some of their teaching moments, profound or not, that stuck with us.

So, what better way to kick off the week on a news website published by an RFH grad than with English teachers. Each of this crew of instructors in the art of word smithing, and just plain proper grammar and sentence structure, had his or her own teaching methods and personality quirks. Each was a teaching gem in his or her own “write” way. I know. Corny.

I had a few of them, and knew peripherally at least one. The heard-around-the-RFH-halls stuff is another story for another teaching moment.

But, for all the English teachers who taught me before — or something like that — thanks for the write-on moments …

Dr. Paul Fuchs was my freshman English teacher experience. He was quite a character. He taught both German and English. They called him Herr Fuchs. He had an over-the-top, attention grabbing way of teaching. He got our attention. And we listened. How could we not? His methods were very animated. Very entertaining.

That’s how Herr Fuchs got through to daydreaming teens. I can still see him bouncing around the classroom, joking and getting unknowingly giving us those moments that remain etched in our RFH minds more effectively than that chalk board on which he purposefully scrolled his name and those seemingly useless sentence diagrams. What German did the English students learn from him? Anyone?

We learned how to construct a meaningful, cohesive sentence and how each labeled piece of it related to the other in doing so. He made it fun. Well, watching him explain it was fun, at least. Something like that.

Then there was subdued, sweet and proper Mimi Hughes. Who knew she had that show folk side to her? But she did. And we all found out soon enough, but not before (or after) she made certain, in her soft-spoken way, that we knew proper grammar and kept learning more effective ways to speak and write the English language. Her dedication was ever-evolving. Her children even joked about it at her funeral a few years ago.

And speaking of show folk doubling as RFH teachers, or vice versa, there was Lloyd Grosse. In true 70s actor fashion, he was leisure-suited and larger than life — with a song. Grosse, as with Mimi Hughes, side gigged at The Barn Theater and elsewhere. Grosse was at one time director of RFH shows as well. Here’s a tidbit or three: He was also an opera singer, lover of classical music and a member of MENSA. Yes, you read that right. The man was a genius. Who knew? Not us. Nonetheless, he was in his classroom every day teaching English — and in his own showy way.

Obviously, not everyone had all of these teachers. And there were some societal events hosted by some.

One of those teachers was Mrs. Holton. I forget her first name, but, no matter, she wouldn’t have liked us calling her by it. She was a Mount Holyoke grad who hosted special teas — yes, teas — at her Rumson home for honors seniors she was trying to recruit for the college. I still remember the china and those cucumber finger sandwiches. I also remember that, aside from the time spent with some friends, it was torture and I really wasn’t a tea fan. Most of us had already made our college choice decisions, and there was no fun to be had — just some sort of campus life movie and a lot of polite chatter and wishes of a way to the ol’ Irish goodbye. Sorry, Mrs. Holton. Thanks for having us ingrates!

There were three RFH English teachers who somehow escaped this yearbook photo — Bob Berberich, Al Lyster and Marilyn Bell. Berberich was a great writing teacher. He taught Syracuse English, the honors class. What a great class. He encouraged creativity a lot and had a great technique for engaging students and offering writing tips that stuck like Gorilla Glue, expansion included. Ask anyone in his class about the natural gas argumentative essay written by one student.

Marilyn Bell, also a good teacher, and the mom of a couple of students, probably wouldn’t believe that this writer is a writer. She wasn’t a fan of my argumentative essays and wasn’t shy about saying so. That’s good. Truth matters. The constructive part of constructive criticism is key, though, and it stopped at criticism. She just wasn’t a fan.

She was right about one thing. I, and some other students, didn’t put enough time and effort into the work. I guess the skater part of me irritated her. Can’t blame her. She also didn’t really like the fact that rehearsals for shows took some time away from her class. Oh, well. You lose some … and you lose some. I still liked her. I do remember listening to those tapes she recorded for Syracuse students to offer the criticism. I remember thinking how much I thought she hated making the recordings. Cheers, Mrs. Bell! I don’t blame you.

Al Lyster, I believe, went to Princeton. He was pretty staid and a bit dull, but boy was he smart and a very good teacher of poetry. Anyone?

Ahem. Roses are red. Violets are blue. What’s the RFH English teaching moment for you? Yes, that was awful … intentionally. Now, write what you know right here. And please do be properly poetic or argumentative about it!

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Investment Process