Hi name was Mr. Hardcastle.
As a child, growing up in the countryside - I would walk about a 1/5 of a mile up a hill to road juncture - where I would catch a bus every morning to elementary and junior high school.
The bus driver, during my junior high school years - was a man by the name of Mr. Hardcastle.
One day, I left my saxaphone case on the bus.
My mother somehow found Mr. Hardcastle's phone number - and called - and confirmed that he had my saxaphone - so we drove to his house (a trailer) and picked it up. That is probably the first really distinct memory I have of him.
In my final year of junior high - we moved to a subdivision in the city - and I was able to walk to school every day.
In my first year of high school, I signed-up for a geometry class - and was surprised to find out that Mr. Hardcastle wasn't just a bus driver - he was a math teacher as well.
I have warm memories of him as a teacher. He was kind, patient, and it was obvious that he cared about his students.
I don't know if he recalled that I was the same kid that left a saxaphone on his bus. I suspect he did.
Another favorite teacher in high school was Mr. Screeton, who taught Physics and Chemistry - both of which I took with him.
Now, the interesting thing about both of these men - was that they had both served in Vietnam:
- Mr. Screeton had been a Marine Sniper.
- Mr. Hardcastle had been a Green Beret.
In my voracious reading - I had happened upon a paperback book at a local used book reseller:
The Green Berets, by Robin Moore - and I was fascinated by the elite role they played, their specialized military training; and the types of mission for which they were assigned. They were unsung heroes.
During this same period of time - I was working toward achieving my black belt in Shotokan Karate - and had joined the Air Force Junior ROTC in my junior year.
In my senior year, I was a finalist for an Air Force ROTC Scholarship - and later, was notified that I would be awarded the scholarship.
As
the events of November 4, 1979 unfolded in Iran - with the storming of the U.S. Embassy in Tehran - and the seizing of 52 American hostages - a sense of duty overcame my desire to proceed straight to university - and a sense of weariness from academic studies was also probably a factor (having been working 32 hours/week at a part-time job, teaching classes 2-3 times per week at my Karate Dojo, and having carried a heavy academic load all throughout both junior high - and high school - in preparation for college).
One Saturday, I went to the local U.S. Army recruiting station and asked about opportunities to join the Green Berets. Sadly, that wasn't possible. But, the next-best strategy - was to sign-up as an Airborne Ranger - and then seek to volunteer for the Green Beret program once I had a few years of the mandatory qualifying service completed.
And so, I was probably quite jubilant when I stopped by Mr. Hardcastle's classroom, prior to my graduation in 1980 - and told him of my plans.
Unexpectedly, he did not share in my excitement.
He was a wise man - and knew the risks and dangers that would certainly lay ahead for me.
Once I left home for the U.S. Army, I never saw Mr. Hardcastle again - but the impression he made in my life has had a lasting effect.
If you had met him - you would never guess that he was a deadly trained Special Forces warrior.
In all his mannerisms, speech, and duty-of-care as a teacher - he was a gentleman, with a quiet disposition - who exuded a mild sense of sad melancholy. Some of that sadness was likely due to the ending of a romantic relationship he had with a fellow teacher - that was widely known.
I remember both him, and Mr. Screeton (
Billy Louis Screeton), with great fondness for the wisdom and instruction I received.
In their own rights, they were exemplary manifestations of all the best qualities of "The Doctor" [Who] - in real life.Thus, my deep and abiding heartfelt connection with all that the character of Doctor Who represents.
