Mr. Works

Mr. Robert Works, most of you will not know who this man was.  But he was a teacher in Jackson California.  I do not how many years he taught, but I do know how he changed my life.  Up to the time I met him in the fifth grade my life was a mess.  My parents had divorced.  My mother had to flee with my sister and me from Michigan and we were living with my grandmother in a tiny house on Clinton road. My fifth grade teacher was Miiiisssss North who was convinced I was mentally retarded and she pushed to have me tested.  After the tests were completed the evaluator said there is nothing wrong with me, in fact I was actually very smart.  I was in the fifth grade and I wasn’t able to read. I had made it this far and had fooled a lot people along the way.  So I was assigned to Mr. Works to catch-up and so much more.  Mr. Works was a tall thin man in his late forties or early fifties.  He had a short haircut, peppered with black and gray.  He wore black framed glasses that were out of date even in the late seventies.  His voice was deep and would have been great as the voice of God in a movie.  He walked with his shoulders slightly slumped forward and he would swing his arms with big strides. Attached to his arms was his most distinguished feature his hands.  They were huge, especially to a fifth grader.  His knuckles were big and his hands were rough from working with wood.  But what I remember the most was they were incredibility strong.  He would grip your hand and it felt like a vise grip had clamp onto you. If you were running around or acting up he would grab you and you knew he had you, there was no escape!   

The first day I went to his class we played basketball!  He owned me from that day forward.  He taught me how to read and how to think and how to believe in myself.  One of the ways he taught me was by handing me a newspaper and he would have me find a story I was interested in.  I would find something and he would have me read the article and circle the words I didn’t know.  Afterwards we would go through the words together.  As a young man he showed me love, grace and mercy. He would encourage and press me to be the best I could be.  He also used wood working to shape me.  I learned to make things using a lathe and a band saw. I cut out animals, made wooden planes, baseball bats anything I wanted.  I would give him my idea and he would help me design it and to finish it.  At the time I didn’t understand what he was doing but he was building me up.  By the time I reached the eighth grade I was caught up with my class mates in reading.  I would go on to finish high school.  I even managed to graduate from college with a bachelor’s degree with distinction.  

Mr. Works did this with many of his kids through the years.  Each kid touched and encouraged, forever mark by the work of this man.  I cannot imagine what my life would have turned out to be if it wasn’t for him. He helped shape me into the adult I am today.  I share this with you having learned Mr. Works passed away last night at the age of 90.  I thank God for him.