Learning Latin ...

I once knew a teacher.
Let’s call him Harry.
Harry was immediately likeable.
He was one of those people that you instinctively know will be a good person.
He would gently share his considerable wisdom without condescension, but he would stand no nonsense.
We looked forward to his lessons.

He tried to educate us in Latin.
When the class appeared disinterested he would talk about dinghy sailing.
We became familiar with terms such as 'sheet', 'halyard', 'boom', 'gunter', 'gaff', 'jib', 'tack' and 'clew'.
... but we never really learned the Latin.

Harry taught me to sail the school’s Heron class dinghy.

Ready about!

Harry would drive to school in a convertible 1950s Sunbeam Talbot.
That was immaculate, and clearly his pride and joy.

Harry's was a RH drive in blood and custard.

It was rumoured that he had been a mosquito pilot during WWII.
He never talked about that.

He insisted on teaching in a classroom with all the windows open, even in the depths of winter.
“I’d rather freeze to death than burn,” he used to say.

He shared other pearls of wisdom:

• “To work is a privilege.”

(Only in later life did I understand the veracity of that.)

• “Human beings are always fearful of change.”

(I’d already learned that from personal experience.)

I only achieved a ‘D’ in Latin 
... but I won my school colours for dinghy sailing!

THANKS, HARRY!

Abeunt studia in mores.