True Educational Story

AN INSPIRED LECTURE

Carl Smith was a laid-back professor of physics with whom I shared an office at South Paulson University. Nothing seemed to get on his nerves, and he was well-liked by students and faculty alike. If you told this guy his house was on fire, he would first say "hello" as he smiled and shook your hand. Then he would say something like: Well, I'm on my way to lunch, now. How 'bout you and me headin' over that way a little later?

In the several years that I had known him, I recalled only one occasion that he kind of came unglued, so to speak. It was early one Thursday morning, when Carl was on his way to an 8:00 a.m. physics class. Most professors disliked teaching early in the morning, but Carl often volunteered for such classes. On this particular morning, the custodial staff had just given the rest rooms a thorough cleaning. The odor of disinfectants wafted in the air, strong enough that the average person would not have entered the area. But Carl figured it wouldn't be too bad, and he really did have the "urge." So he held his nose with one hand, sat for a while, and wiped with his other hand. It only took a few minutes, and he was once again smug with the feeling that such small inconveniences could be overcome. What a great world it would be if everyone could just relax a little more!

He quickly entered his classroom and began his lecture on Newton's laws of motion. Carl was a man who dearly loved to teach, and he filled the board with equations as he lectured on a subject he found both interesting and profound. About ten minutes into his lecture, he noticed a minor sensation near his right hip pocket. Thinking it might be an irritation caused by his billfold, he casually removed it and placed it in his coat pocket. There was not the slightest interruption of his lecture, and no student even took notice of the action.

Five minutes later, the sensation seemed to be spreading, and what began as a tickling sensation was beginning to burn. He decided to sit down at his desk for a minute, pretending to look for a piece of paper or for an eraser. By twisting around in the chair, he was able to relieve the pain a little bit, and true to his optimistic personality, he smiled and returned to the chalkboard.

In a little while, the students were beginning to see that something was wrong, even if Carl would not admit to any problem. He was constantly moving around the room, raising his legs as he lectured, until it became obvious to him also that something was dreadfully wrong. In a few minutes, it felt as though his pants were on fire.
With about fifteen minutes left, he realized that he would have to dismiss the class. In spite of the pain, he insisted on giving them their homework assignments as he ran out the door. I remember how startled I was as he ran into our office, slammed the door, and immediately dropped his pants. Not quite knowing what to expect next, I asked if there was a problem--one of my classic understatements.

"My rear end is on fire!" He shouted. "Can you take a look at it?" He promptly turned his backside toward me fanning it all the time with his right hand.

"Gee, I don't know, Carl." I replied with mock alarm. "I hardly know you."

Seeing that my small attempt at humor was not met with the usual sarcasm, I realized that he was serious and quickly observed the area in question. His entire buttocks were covered with red blisters. It looked like the most severe case of sunburn I had ever seen.

"Man alive!" I exclaimed. "What on earth have you been sitting in? We'd better get you to the college infirmary."

After appropriate first aid, Carl took the rest of the afternoon off. It was the first time in my memory that anyone had to cover his classes for him. We later learned from the custodian that he had sprayed all the toilet seats with ammonia just before Carl arrived. He explained that after cleaning the toilet seats, he always left a thin film on the seats. It would quickly evaporate and would leave no streaks.

"I'm real sorry, Professor," he told us. "We just never thought anyone would go in the rest room with the odor of ammonia so bad. It only takes a few minutes to dry, and there's no problem after the smell is gone."

And, indeed, there was no problem! Professor Carl Smith continued to teach his classes the very next day with the same enthusiasm that he always brought to his lectures. A few students did note, however, that the professor seemed reluctant to sit on the edge of the desk as was often his custom.