An Unforgettable Classroom Experience

An Unforgettable Classroom Experience No one could have prepared me for what was about to happen on that November of 1979. I still remember as if it was just yesterday when my fifth grade teacher, Mr. Forster, collapsed in front of the classroom. Some of the students stood there not knowing what to do, including me, others running out the classroom looking for help; while some were laughing thinking he was playing a joke on us. It had gone from an exciting day, to a tragic day, in a matter of minutes. This would become a day that I would carry with me for the rest of my life. Mr. Forster had been teaching for many years, he had even taught my older brother. Even though he was probably in his 50’s, because I was only ten at the time, I thought he was old. Now, I say 50’s is a young age. The best way I can describe him is as follows: kind, patient, resourceful, tolerant, open minded, good sense of humor, and very imaginative. He was a teacher every student wishes they had. It was a cold morning, I remember because I was wearing a brand new coat my parents had bought for me, and we all were walking in line from the cafeteria to the classroom. We were all excited because on this day, Mr. Forster was going to teach us how to bake a pumpkin pie from scratch. He was carrying a huge pumpkin which we were going to carve to use for the pie. When we got to our classroom it was noisier than ever; everyone was filled with excitement. Before we could start doing the fun part, we had to take a spelling test. We had begged him to give us the test later that afternoon, but he did not budge. “Clear your desk, and take out your notebook and your pencils” he said. Those were his last words before collapsing to the floor unresponsive. The classroom went completely silent for what seemed to be many hours, but in all actuality, it had just been a few minutes. I just sat there in disbelief. I remember thinking, “Can this be happening right before my eyes?” Other students ran to the classroom next to ours to call for help. Soon our classroom became filled with panic. Teachers ran in and out taking us to another classroom while they tended to Mr. Forster. Parents were being called in to pick up their children from school. As I sat crying on the bench, next to the office waiting for my mom to pick me up, the ambulance pulled up to the school. They were carrying Mr. Forster on the stretcher; he had an oxygen mask on him. I thought for sure he was dead. My eyes were swollen from crying when the telephone rang that evening. It was the school principal letting us know that Mr. Forster had had a stroke, but was going to be well soon. I started crying again, this time from excitement.