I Saw Sal

It's getting so I can't go a day without seeing a former student. Friday night, I went out to Buca de Beppo in Anaheim, with four colleagues of mine. While waiting for a table, this man walks up to me and says, "Mr. A-Bomb of Reflection?"

It was Sal M, from a ninth grade class I taught during my first year at my current school some thirteen years ago. A real good kid, though often a smart-ass.

"Sal," (yes, I remembered his name) "I was just thinking about you the other day."

It was the truth. I had run into a classmate of his who works at my credit union the day before and had been thinking about Sal and some of those students.

Sal was an interesting kid. There was another kid in the class that he claimed was a brother, but I don't think there was a blood relationship of any kind. I think two of their step-parents had been married at some point.

Sal was a good writer. He wasn't especially grammatically good. But he was creative good. He was inventive good. I couldn't believe when his AP teacher said that his writing was poor. I always found his essays insightful and entertaining. Her complaint was about its sophistication, or lack thereof. But she was not an especially creative thinker herself. I doubt she understood the way Sal's brain worked.

The last time I saw Sal, he was studying at the local University of California and tutoring on-campus. He had planned on attending grad school.

Apparently, a local politician and UC professor took Sal under his wing and got him working in government. Sal switched to law school and had just graduated. He moved to Anaheim and was working for the Mayor of that town.

It was good to see him.