Tribute to Educators Everywhere

Tom Rothwell died last Sunday.  He was 91.  He was also my junior high principal.

I'm gonna get right to the point of today's column:  Teachers, coaches, principals--what you do counts.  You are influencing young people in ways that you probably never know about.

I've spoken about my high school football coach, Bert "Chig" Ratledge (although he will never ever ever be anything but Coach Ratledge to me), and the influence he has had on my life.

Mr. Rothwell was the same way, affecting generations of young folks as an educator, principal, and coach.

He was also a family friend.  I have great memories of visiting his home in downtown Philadelphia, Tennessee.  He collected hand guns and I was fascinated by that.

He and my dad seemed to really connect.  They probably couldn't have been more different in a lot of ways.

Mr. Rothwell had a full head of regal hair as long as he lived.  I don't remember my dad without his male-pattern baldness.  Mr. Rothwell went to college while my dad finished only 6th grade.  Both served in the Navy in World War II. 

One was tall, the other short.  One was quick-witted and perpetually in motion.  The other one moved and spoke slowly and with grace.  Yet both were highly intelligent, passionate about a lot of things, and totally devoted to their families. 

His daughter Ann and I went to school together from kindergarten through high school.  She and I remain friends today.  A couple of years ago, Ann and her dad came to a concert that my gospel quartet did at a church in Sweetwater.  His presence there remains a memorable honor for me. 

I can remember being in his office as a 6th grader, my transgression long forgotten.   I'm sure I was trembling with fear.  As was common in that day, he had a paddle in the corner but that's not what frightened me. 

His disapproval was far, far worse than any physical punishment he could have dished out.  Such was the respect that I had for him.

And I wasn't alone in that.  I've heard the same story many times from others that attended Loudon Junior High School.

I had him as an 8th grade science teacher.  I'm not sure why he was teaching that class but it was during a time when I thought that it wasn't too cool to be a "brain."  I wanted to be a "jock."  He straightened me out with his expectations for me.

Interestingly enough, it was about the same age that my daughter had the same dilemma.  I'm betting that it was a teacher at Maryville Middle School that helped her get through that stage.

Mr. Rothwell coached basketball from time to time, but I never played for him.  Football was always my sport. 

Because of grandsons, he has been a fixture at Alcoa High School football games, always wearing a hunter's orange cap in the stands so those same grandsons could find him.

He called me Joebee for as long as I can remember.  He will be missed by many.

For you teachers, coaches, and principals:  When the hours seem long, when you think no one cares, when the job seems thankless, be reminded that you are making a difference in somebody's life. 

Your job is not always teaching math and grammar and science.  A lot of the time it's about building adults.