When I wrote my last blog I described my misadventure in flying to Chicago. Well during my absence it turned out that I had lost a great friend. I try to keep things here either at a humorous level by making fun of myself or some of my experiences or else try to share something with you about the latest news or prospective from the never ending changes in our logistical world. This time I want to write about the only person that I ever kept in contact with from my high school years. My grade 10 and 11 English teacher Jean Naylor. Jean was my teacher and my friend when I first attended a high school in Toronto called Meisterschaft College in 1968. It was a small school of 150 students that offered a curriculum of courses that allowed students to concentrate solely on obtaining their high school diploma. The classes were small and intimate with maximum 18 students per class. The student body was an eclectic mixture of students, ranging from middle aged people making tremendous sacrifices in order to return to school to obtain their high school degree so that they could attend university and find better jobs to the other extreme, unmotivated kids who smoked weed and came to school high enough to hunt ducks with a rake. Since it was a private school if a student did not attend class there were no questions. You paid… you could attend and you learned, if you skipped class you didn’t learn.
Jean Naylor was in her early 40’s when I bounced into her tiny English class on the 3rd floor of this old mansion transformed into a very unique learning environment. I was in a classroom with about 12 or so other males mostly under 20 years old. I was one of the babies at 15. Jean taught us Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar and Macbeth. It was hard stuff for all of us but Jean made it so that we could not wait to go to class every afternoon. She made us all want to participate and she had a unique way of making all feel special. Like each one of us were her favourite student. If she could sell our crew on Shakespeare she probably could have made millions in sales using the same tactics.
I had a tragedy later that year when my father passed away in April. I will never forget the beautiful letter that Jean wrote me immediately upon hearing the news. I can still vividly recall her strong beautiful handwriting and the ocean blue ink 43 years later.
At the end of the following year Jean and her husband Hank decided to move their family to Vancouver so that Hank could take a teaching position at a community college out there. I never saw Jean again for almost 20 years but I always kept in touch by sending her flowers for her birthday in March and exchanging Christmas cards. Actually I never missed her birthday including this last one. When I never received one of her informative thank you cards I started to worry and one evening out of the blue she phoned me. She apologized for not writing but she had just buried her wonderful husband of 58 years after a lengthy battle with Alzheimer’s disease. It turned out that Jean just could not face life without him and she passed away last week after a sudden heart attack.
I was supposed to go and visit her at her home in Langley this summer on a trucking- business trip I have been planning. I am kicking myself that I did not make it out there sooner. It’s one of those reminders that we get about how precious life and friends are. Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery so live and enjoy today.
Chuck Snow
