There Goes the Sun

"Smile when you're not supposed to laugh
And cry when you're supposed to hold it back
And live like the sun is burning out of the sky
'Cause tomorrow's too late so don't waste a day of this life."  Another Red Light, David Hodges

My sixth grade teacher was a man. Actually, there were two new male sixth grade teachers at the College Street Elementary School that year.  Mr. Columbo was one of them, and my teacher was  Mr. DiMichelle. He asked us to just call him Mr.D. For an eleven year old boy to have a man teacher was pretty special. 

Mr. D was a good teacher, but he was also a lot of fun.  Thinking back,  I realize the privilege was more for his free time than ours, but he did something for us every now and then that was quite a treat.  When the bell rang for us to line up after afternoon recess, he would wait for us to get in line and then tell us to run back to the ball field. By the time we got back to class, it was nearly time to go home. 

It was important to Mr. D that we experience things.  I remember that he introduced us to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake Ballet. He let us create art with crayons and paint while we listened.  It was the most beautiful music I had ever heard. He also wanted us to learn about the world around us through lessons in science.  I'm sure he meant no harm and certainly didn't mean to change my life, but he did exactly that.   Mr. D suspended a mobile of the solar system from the ceiling. Pointing to the sun he explained that the one day the sun's energy would be exhausted and that the sun would completely burn out.  In an instant I knew what that meant for me.  If the sun dies, then the earth will die and I will die.  It didn't matter that this event was several billion years away. It was that this cosmic catastrophe was possible at all.

Looking back I understand what a gift Mr. D gave me. At the age of eleven I realized that my life had an end date. I would love to tell you that from that day on I have treasured every moment of every day.  But I can't tell you that. I would love to tell you that I've treasured every moment of this very day. But I can't tell you that either. But chances are the sun will rise tomorrow and that I will wake to see it.  I'll have another day to do better at this thing called living. Or as the mystics call it --being Awake.  

Tchaikovsky wasn't the only part of Russia of which Mr. D was fond.  My classmate and friend Jimmy McKinney drew with chalk a marvelously beautiful mural of Moscow on the board. The fatal mistake though was when we held the Olympic games on the ball field--USA vs. Russia, complete with the respective flags. This was during the Cold War.  You know when we got under our desks in case of nuclear attack. A soldier from nearby Ft. Rucker took exception to the games. He not only stopped the games and tore up the Russian flag, but made Mr. D erase Jimmy's creation as well. While we watched.  That was Mr. DiMichelle's  first and last year at College Street Elementary.

Our senior year Jimmy McKinney was killed in a tragic accident the night we were building our class float. I missed so much about Jimmy, but I never forgot how he brought a piece of Russia to Enterprise, Alabama. And I don't think a single Communist came out of that classroom.

"Live like the sun is burning out of the sky."   It's  not Russian roulette; it's science fact. Mr. D taught me that.