One of the things I was looking forward to about Junior High school was that I wouldn’t have to take classes like reading. I had been reading since I was four and did not really see any point in continuing what I perceived as an instructional class on the subject.
But once again I found my self in yet another class called reading. It wasn’t the elementary type of DEAR (Drop Everything And Read) reading like we use today. We had to read the stories before class..like homework..and then discuss it.
My teacher’s name was Theo Granville Powell. He was a tall man, probably 6' 7”. Had he been any taller he would have had to duck through the doors. His stature was large with a shape similar to that of Alfred Hitchcock. He wore his trousers pulled quite high with his belt buckle like a crown on his vast stomach. He always wore a short sleeved white shirt with a tie. What hair he had left was blonde, fringing around his very pink bald head. His most outstanding feature however was his very bright pink complexion earning him the nickname of Pinkie Powell.
Being rather reserve he tended to only speak when something needed to be said. During passing period he always stood like a giant pink column in the hall beside his door. He never yelled at anyone or called them down, but just his presence made everyone careful about what they said or did. In reality he knew what girls and boys were going steady on any given day. He also knew that we all called him “Pinkie”.
We sat in alphabetical order in his class which put me in the next to the last seat on the second row. Right in front of Nan.
Nan seemed to know about everything. She told me if I didn’t know an answer to look down at a book on my desk and I would not be called on. Since Nan was so worldly wise, I spent a fair amount of my time turned in my chair facing her. Then right as class started, before I even had a chance to turn around, I would hear this booming, “Jan would you please turn around and pay attention!”
Each day he would assign us something to be read before we came to class. This was especially hard for me since I could read something the day before, and completely lose all of the details since I had slept. And then there were the days I completely forgot to read the assignment at all.
Mr. Powell expected everyone to take his class seriously, he accepted no excuses for not having read the assignment. When he got upset or seemed nervous, you could see the muscles in his jaw flexing back and forth. I found it so hard to remember to read the assignments since nothing had to be
turned in. No one was ever too excited about discussing what we had read. As sure as someone held up their hand and made a comment, there would be giggling and snickering in the room. The thought of making a comment and having someone giggle or snicker mortified me.
When no one volunteered, Pinkie would begin to stride up and down the isles of desks, looking to see if someone was writing a note or goofing off. If he caught someone, bingo the next volunteer! Fridays were an especially dreaded day in Pinkie’s class because we always had a poem to memorize. Then each of us had to recite it...alone...in front of the class.
The first few weeks I had it memorized perfectly held up my hand eagerly and was one of the first to recite. Then Nan pointed out to me how unbecoming being so eager was. She said I didn’t need to waste time memorizing it at home when if we could manage to be one of the last ones, we could have it memorized after hearing it 10 or 12 times. I tried her suggestion and it worked really well. We would sit with our heads in our books, looking studious, then would manage to be on of the last ones called upon. Fridays in his class were always the longest class of the day, hearing the same poem droned over and over for an hour. My patience would be gone by the time the bell rang.
The first few weeks I had it memorized perfectly held up my hand eagerly and was one of the first to recite. Then Nan pointed out to me how unbecoming being so eager was. She said I didn’t need to waste time memorizing it at home when if we could manage to be one of the last ones, we could have it memorized after hearing it 10 or 12 times. I tried her suggestion and it worked really well. We would sit with our heads in our books, looking studious, then would manage to be on of the last ones called upon. Fridays in his class were always the longest class of the day, hearing the same poem droned over and over for an hour. My patience would be gone by the time the bell rang.
As the year went by each of us seemed to put less and less time into memorizing the poem...more and more of the class had figured out Nan’s theory of listening to others say to memorize it in class. Pinkie of course was no newbie to this theory, having taught school...almost forever.
One Friday we had the dream poem to memorize, The Star Spangled Banner. Everyone knew that, a slam dunk..no studying at all.
Failing to see Pinkie walk in the room, still turned around talking to Nan, his voice boomed, “Jan turn around please, and since you are so busy talking you can be the first to recite.” My brain immediately went on lock down. All I could think of were the words to American the Beautiful...which had slipped out before I could think.
“Jan—please sit down,” Pinkie's voice boomed.
As I turned to sit down I saw all the anxious faces, I realized they realized they did not know the words either, and everyone was sweating. Instead of snickering as usual I saw real concern on those faces, that scared me even more. I stumbled past a couple of desks and noticed that Nan had her head completely down on her desk. “Does anyone actually have The Star Spangled Banner memorized or were you all planning to be the last one chosen like Jan?”, his booming voice questioned.
Silence...total and complete silence covered the room like a blanket, not whisper, not a cough...nothing but silence. He stood there looking at us, flexing his jaw as he did when he stood in the hallway.
He turned, strided to his desk, pulled out his chair with a long scraaaaape and sat down. We were all frozen, afraid to move or say a word. He had never sat down at his desk during class before. His eyes were still fixed on the class.
Finally he said, “Put everything away and clear your desk, I am going to tell you a story.” He slowly stood pulling up all of his six foot seven frame to its full height. Crossing his arms over his vast chest, and flexing his jaw, he slowly scanned the entire classroom, looking into each of our eyes.
“Francis Scott Key was a respected young lawyer living in Georgetown just west of where the modern day Key Bridge crosses the Potomac River. He made his home there from 1804 to around 1833 with his wife Mary and their six sons and five daughters.
At the time, Georgetown was a thriving town of 5,000 people just a few miles from the Capitol, the White House, and the Federal buildings of Washington. But, after war broke out in 1812 over Britian's attempts to regulate American shipping and other activities while Britain was at war with France, all
was not tranquil in Georgetown. The British had entered Chesapeake Bay on August 19th, 1814, and by the evening of the 24th of August, the British had invaded and captured Washington. They set fire to the Capitol and the White
House, the flames visible 40 miles away in Baltimore.
President James Madison,his wife Dolley, and his Cabinet had already fled to a safer location.
A thunderstorm at dawn kept the fires from spreading. The next day more buildings were burned and again a thunderstorm dampened the fires. Having done their work the British troops returned to their ships in and around the
Chesapeake Bay.
In the days following the attack on Washington, the American forces prepared for the assault on Baltimore that they knew would come by both land and sea.
Word soon reached Francis Scott Key that the British had carried off an elderly and much loved town physician of Upper Marlboro, Dr. William Beanes, and was being held on the British flagship TONNANT. The townsfolk
feared that Dr. Beanes would be hanged. They asked Francis Scott Key for his help, and he agreed, and arranged to have Col. John Skinner, an American agent for prisoner exchange to accompany him.
On the morning of September 3rd, he and Col. Skinner set sail from Baltimore aboard a sloop flying a flag of truce approved by President Madison. On the 7th they found and boarded the TONNANT to confer with Gen. Ross and Adm. Alexander Cochrane. At first they refused to release Dr. Beanes. But Key and Skinner produced a pouch of letters written by wounded British prisoners praising the care they were receiving from the Americans, among them Dr. Beanes. The British officers relented but would not release the three Americans immediately because they had seen and heard too much of the preparations for the attack on Baltimore.
They were placed under guard, first aboard the H.M.S. Surprise, then onto the sloop and forced to wait out the battle behind the British fleet.
At the star-shaped Fort McHenry, the commander, Maj. George Armistead, asked for a flag so big that "the British would have no trouble seeing it from a distance" The flag was so large that it had 400 yards of best quality wool
bunting. The stars measured two feet from point to point. Eight red and seven white stripes, each two feet wide, were cut. It measured 30 by 42 feet .
At 7 a.m. on the morning of September 13, 1814, the British bombardment began, and the flag was ready to meet the enemy. The British had said that when the flag fell that would signify the American’s surrender. 2, The bombardment continued for 25 hours,the British firing 1,500 bombshells that weighed as much as 220 pounds and carried lighted fuses that would supposedly cause it to explode when it reached its target. But they weren't very dependable and often blew up in mid air. From special small boats the British fired the new Congreve rockets that traced wobbly arcs of red flame across the sky. The Americans had sunk 22 vessels so a close approach by the British was not possible. That evening the connonading stopped, but at about 1 a.m. on the 14th, the
British fleet roared to life, lighting the rainy night sky with grotesque fireworks. Key, Col. Skinner, and Dr. Beanes watched the battle with apprehension. They knew that as long as the shelling continued, Fort McHenry had not surrendered and the flag was still there. Its pole was standing at an odd angle but standing none the less. But, long before daylight there came a sudden and mysterious
silence. What the three Americans did not know was that the British land assault on Baltimore as well as the naval attack, had been abandoned. Judging Baltimore as being too costly a prize, the British officers ordered a retreat. Waiting in the predawn darkness, Key waited for the sight that would end his anxiety; the joyous sight of Gen. Armisteads great flag blowing in the breeze.
When at last daylight came, the flag was still there! The men at ft. McHenry had refused to let the great flag fall. They had held the pole with their hands and when those men had died holding it, others took their place, and then others—
and in the end the flag had been held up by the soldiers and the bodies of soldiers who had fought for their country. 2.
Being an amatuer poet and having been so uniquely inspired, Key began to write on the back of a letter he had in his pocket. Sailing back to Baltimore he composed more lines and in his lodgings at the Indian Queen Hotel he finished
the poem. Judge J. H. Nicholson, his brother-in-law, took it to a printer and copies were circulated around Baltimore under the title "Defence of Fort McHenry". It was printed in a newspaper for the first time in the Baltimore Patriot
on September 20th,1814, then in papers as far away as Georgia and New Hampshire. To the verses was added a note "Tune: Anacreon in Heaven." In October a Baltimore actor sang Key's new song in a public performance and
called it "The Star-Spangled Banner". Immediately popular, it remained just one of several patriotic airs until it was finally adopted as our national anthem on March 3, 1931. The flag, our beloved Star-Spangled Banner, went on view ,for
the first time after flying over Fort McHenry, on January 1st,1876 at the Old State House in Philadelphia for the nations' Centennial celebration. “ 1.
I learned all four verses of the Star Spangled Banner. Everyone in our class did. I have never seen the flag or heard the song, that I wasn’t proud that Mr. Powell
had required us to learn it. I wish I had been thoughtful enough to tell him that.
Mr. Powell never married or had children. He spent his entire life teaching seventh graders reading and having them memorize poetry. He touched my life in a very meaningful way.
Note: Mr. Powell knew everyone call him Pinkie....and was quite proud that he had a nickname. Once, when my mother taught with him, she asked him if it offended him. He said, “No. Quite the opposite....after all they don’t have have a nickname for you do they?”
In Ocotber 2014 I have been asked to give a presentation on the Star Spangled Banner for the Daughters of the American Revolotion (D.A.R.). I plan to use this for the presentation.
1.National Flag Foundation website
2. Unknown source, included in the story told by Mr. Theo Granville Powell
Texas City Sun
Published December 28, 2003
Theo Granville Powell
Theo Granville Powell, 78, of Texas City, passed away Friday, December 26, 2003 at Mainland Medical Center in Texas City.
Funeral services will be 10:00 a.m. Monday, December 29, 2003 at First Baptist Church in La Marque, Texas with Rev. David Smith and Rev. Grayson Glass officiating. Burial will be 1:00 p.m. Tuesday, December 30, 2003 at Evergreen Cemetery in Lipan, Texas. Visitation will be from 1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. Sunday, December 28, 2003 at Emken-Linton Funeral Home.
Mr. Powell was born December 9, 1925 in Lipan, Texas. He was a retired school teacher for La Marque Independent School District, and a Deacon Emeritus for First Baptist Church in La Marque, Texas.
Survivors include his sisters, Dorothy Powell and Vera Allen both of Lipan, Texas and Helen Powell of California; numerous nieces and nephews and other relatives and friends.*
Theo Granville Powell, 78, of Texas City, passed away Friday, December 26, 2003 at Mainland Medical Center in Texas City.
Funeral services will be 10:00 a.m. Monday, December 29, 2003 at First Baptist Church in La Marque, Texas with Rev. David Smith and Rev. Grayson Glass officiating. Burial will be 1:00 p.m. Tuesday, December 30, 2003 at Evergreen Cemetery in Lipan, Texas. Visitation will be from 1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. Sunday, December 28, 2003 at Emken-Linton Funeral Home.
Mr. Powell was born December 9, 1925 in Lipan, Texas. He was a retired school teacher for La Marque Independent School District, and a Deacon Emeritus for First Baptist Church in La Marque, Texas.
Survivors include his sisters, Dorothy Powell and Vera Allen both of Lipan, Texas and Helen Powell of California; numerous nieces and nephews and other relatives and friends.*
* And hundreds of students whose lives were made better for having had him as a teacher.
