Retirement Day

Mrs. Bauer was the principal at Buffalo Elementary School for 138 years. And because of her age, she was really cranky. As my previous stories about her indicate, we had our relational difficulties since first grade. Her disparagement for me culminated when I projectile puked fish sticks all over her new dress. Our relationship never recovered. The best I could do was to avoid her every chance I could.

In fourth grade, I learned a new word that brought incalculable joy to my soul. That word was “retirement.” It was announced that Mrs. Bauer was retiring and we would have a new principal. I realized in that moment that my years of altercations with this woman would be at an end. And, better yet, the new principal would know nothing of my checkered past. I would be new!

But it wasn’t over as we had one last formality to endure. The entire school was marched out onto the front lawn. We had never done this before and we were not quite sure what to expect. Were they tricking us into another round of vaccinations? We could not tell. Once there, we were instructed by Mrs. Dornquast to sit on the lawn facing a podium they had set up close to a freshly planted tree. What could all this mean?

Then began a series of people in suits giving long and boring speeches about all the wonderful things Mrs. Bauer had done. Not once did they mention any of the things I would remember her for. So we all sat and listened for what seemed like an eternity. Between every speech someone would ask us all to stop picking at the grass we were sitting on. What did they expect? We were bored to tears. Then they did something horribly cruel. They showed us a special cake made for this special occasion announcing that only teachers would get a slice in the teacher’s lounge.

Then, Mrs. Bauer got up and told a bunch of really boring stories we cared nothing about. On and on she droned. Then, something quite remarkable happened that would be indelibly etched into the brain of every kid present that day. A stray dog from the neighborhood wandered around near the podium. It provided a much-needed distraction. They tried to shoo it away but it insisted on hanging around. Mrs. Bauer droned on oblivious to the mutt. Then, completely out of site of Mrs. Bauer, the dog went over to that tree, which they had just dedicated to her many years of service and it gave it a sniff. The mutt detected no previous ownership of the tree so it lifted its leg and took a very long pee all over its trunk.

Realizing the symbolism of the moment, and having great empathy for that dog, we all began to cheer. Unbeknownst to all of us, this “christening” coincided with the end of Mrs. Bauer’s speech. She thought we were all cheering for her. I’m sure she would be crushed to learn that we were cheering for that dog who represented us all that day. For years we played tinkle tiles imagining we were doing the same thing the dog was now doing. And now, completely unscripted, that dog was dedicating Mrs. Bauer’s tree in a fashion we never dreamed of.

Realizing what was happening, someone ran the dog off hoping to salvage any dignity yet remaining. But the deed was done. We all saw that dog wizzing on Mrs. Bauer’s tree. There were 200 witnesses and one maple tree soaking it all in. Every time I gather with my old friends, we remember that day and laugh our heads off. It was an unbelievable ending to a series of stories about a little elementary school in Buffalo, Minnesota.

As this story borders on the unbelievable, I encourage all you fellow students of mine to chime in and let us know your thoughts about that amazing day.