The Commie, The Principal and The Snake

Finding someone to be president of the Parent Advisory Committee was difficult but Lannie Johnson, a mother of two girls, assumed the responsibility.

Lannie was married to Tom.Tom was an entry level communist who did odd jobs.They were dirt poor. ?

The Advisory Committee met in the evening in the school auditorium.Tom always accompanied Lannie. I had to focus on the committee and keep an eye on Tom. He’d slow walk the room and casually drop pieces of communist literature where they might be found.

When the meeting was over I’d walk the parents to the door, thank them for attending, say good night and return to the auditorium to gather up Communist propaganda.

Most school days Lannie volunteered in the cafeteria. When she felt nobody was looking she’d slip a couple of small cartons of milk or pieces of food in her handbag. Occasionally she’d swipe a box of crayons or a few pieces of paper from the supply closet.

I let it slide.The family was short on calories and kids like to color.

Tom died. Lannie scrambled to find pallbearers. “Would I lend a hand?” What’s a principal to do? I said yes.

I figured I could squeeze the church service and burial in before a mandatory meeting with the district superintendent.The service droned on. My time frame was shrinking.

I was about to be the bearer who bailed when the service ended. We headed to the cemetery.

I was the middle man on the right side of the casket. The other five men were, to be kind, portly. We struggled uphill through weeds and reeds. Clearly Tom would be in a cheaper seat.

Suddenly we heard the unmistakable warning sound of a rattlesnake. My fellow pallbearers faced a conundrum. They could drop Tom and run for it, do an Irish jig, or pray.

I soldiered on. Calm as a cucumber. I had an advantage. I knew the “rattle” was the alarm on my new Belforte watch. I had set it to remind me of my meeting. Because of the angle of ascent and the huge man in front of me I couldn’t reach over to my left wrist and silence the snake. ?

I didn’t tell my fellow toters my watch alarm was what they took to be a snake. Perhaps in later years when they gathered around their barbecue grills they swapped stories about the fearless principal and how we all cheated death.