My Highschool English Teacher

  * My brothers and I attended a little 100-student highschool, Duncan College Preparatory School. It was a 50'x50' three-story house.  The top story was for a never-used physics/chemistry lab and special gatherings like public-speaking class or honor clubs.  Next floor down had a library, class room, cafeteria and part of headmaster’s residence.  Main floor had another part of headmaster's residence, a large study hall and four class rooms arranged for the respect-crushing trap system.
  * The basement right contained a trough urinal tilted so one side didn't drain, two toilets with overhead reservoirs, one sink and two showers, all sharing space on a damp concrete floor with a central drain.  The basement left was a dressing room with insufficient facilities for leaving clothes during sports practice plus a dry-mud crawl space where we laid out our shoulder pads etc after practice to “dry”.  These were malodorous areas wreaking of ammonia, mildew and BO.  Occasionally in the basement, karma was balanced with a belt.
  * There was a two-car garage where athletic equipment was stacked in the off season and game uniforms between games, in addition to the headmaster’s car.  Duncan School engendered modesty, even humility; but we were proud of our motto: Vivat Veritas (let truth live).
  * All the teachers were dedicated, fair and fondly remembered by most students, few of which survive since the school closed in 1952.  Perhaps the most impactful was Benjamin Abernathy, our English teacher who made us memorize exemplary poetry.  A large group of his students celebrated his 100th birthday in Trevecca Assisted Living.  To our surprise, Mr Ab gave each of us a collection of his poetic compositions, in a book assembled by one of his distinguished students, Fred Russell.  Prior to that, we were unaware of his creative accomplishments.
  * The poem that I liked most was titled Daffodils – about items in his yard and house reminding him of his beloved wife of 60 years, deceased one year earlier.  I liked it so much that I wrote a melody and a chorus for it under the title Silent Empty Chair.  I sing it annually in late winter or early spring, when the daffodils have wilted. 

Silent Empty Chair
BH Abernathy & DM Regen  2003 

  The daffo1dils with 4love and 1care
  She set in 1clumps a5cross the 1lawn
  In natural 1scattered 4random 1way
  Have bloomed a1gain, a5gain are 1gone
  + The kindest 4heart I’ve ever 1known
-- One year a1go this very 5day
  + She closed her 1eyes at 4setting 1sun
  + Eliza1beth was 5called a1way

  Her picture 1by my 4mirror 1smiles
  No voice is 1heard no 5answered 1call
  Her little 1shoes be4side the 1bed
  No footsteps 1tread the 5darkened 1hall

  Today a 1year has 4crept a1way
  A hopeless 1and a 5lonely 1year
  Across the 1table 4facing 1me
*There sits a 1silent 5empty 1chair