Murituri te salutamus

When I was in the second grade, I was officially enrolled at Oak Street School, but I actually attended class in the high school, which was across the street. I was among the first wave of baby-boomers to hit the local school district, and they were scrambling to accommodate us. While a new grammar school was being built, they rented two rooms in the high school.

One day some of us were in the hallway outside our classroom when a group of high school girls came by. They were all dressed in gym suits and walking in single file down the hall from the boys' (new, big) gymnasium to the girls' (old, small) gym. For some reason -- maybe to impress the little kids -- they all put one hand on the shoulder of the girl in front of them as they marched down the hall. The last girl in the line turned to me as she went by and said, "Just wait 'til you're in high school, kid."

"Oh Gosh!" thought I. "High school! I'll never be in high school!"

Well, a mere six years later, I was, in the fall of 1960. My first class at 8:00 a.m. on that first day of my high school career was none other than Latin 1. It was taught by Mrs. Anderson, who I thought was probably old enough to have known Caesar personally. She probably had his sense of humor too.

Some of the first words she spoke that morning included a threat. "Most of you will forget almost everything you ever learn in this class. But I promise you, you will NEVER forget sum, es, est, sumus, estis, sunt."

And as you see, even 50 years later -- I haven't.