Inn Keeper

Last Friday I was once again talking about my junior high math teacher, Mr. L, and the two things he said in class that have stayed with me for over forty years: First, a hot water heater is incorrectly named because hot water doesn’t need to be heated.  Secondly, to respond to a question about the quality of something by saying, “It’s good, if you like it,” is silly; because, of course something is good if you like it.

I can only guess what you’re thinking – “What does that have to do with math? It doesn’t add up.” I don’t know, maybe it was “the new math,” or it was the early 70’s, and we were still recovering from the 60’s. Perhaps Mr. L was teaching us to think logically, or he was just being human.

I got a chance to talk to him about that and a few other things last weekend. My wife, Rhonda, and I had just checked into an inn in Southern Minnesota, and while I made sure the TV worked properly she did some exploring.

When she got back to the room, she told me that I needed to return to the front desk and meet the owner, as he was a former teacher of mine. Even though she told me his name I probably would have recognized him anyway. But it was his voice, the measured cadence of his words and the way his eyes could scan a room without moving his head that brought me back to 1972 and Belle Plaine.

“You look like your dad,” he said to me as I rounded the corner.  “You still look the same,” I said. “Except for the missing moustache and the hair color, you still look the same.”

We talked about a lot of things: his teaching career that was disrupted by the draft, the study hall in B29 which was a large room in the basement of the school, where one teacher had to monitor scores of kids, and my brother Dan, who was in Mr. L’s psychology class. For that class Dan trained a mouse to perform a series of exercises to be rewarded with food. The mouse climbed a ladder, pulled a string which opened a door, hopped in a little truck which rolled down a ramp and two or three other tasks.

Mr. L was not aware that Dan had died last year, but a lot can happen in forty some years.

During that same period of time Mr. L had taught in a few other towns besides Belle Plaine, became a superintendent of schools, purchased an old building, converted it and became an inn keeper.

Hearing him talk about all the “wonderful people,” he had met over the years and how he described his time in the military as “a vacation,” reminded me of a parable which I shared with him.

A traveler asked a farmer working in his field what the people in the next village were like. The farmer asked him "What were the people like where you came from?" The traveler responded "They were kind, friendly, generous, great people." "You'll find the people in the next village are the same," said the farmer.

Later, another traveler asked the farmer about the people in the next village. Again the farmer asked "What were the people like where you came from?" The second traveler responded, "They were rude, unfriendly, dishonest people." "You'll find the people in the next village are the same," said the farmer.

Through teaching, military service, school administration, rehabilitating an old building and owning an inn, no matter where he went Mr. L encountered kind, decent people because that’s what he expected to find. Once again, Mr. L taught me something valuable. People are good if you like them.