Theodore Johnson, or “Mr. J” was my fifth grade teacher.
He was a tall, slender man with a reputation for fun that made students pray to be assigned to his class. Mr. J was significant in my life for many reasons. As an educator, he brought mundane subjects to life with humor and passion.
As a person, he taught me the blessing of an unexpected second chance.
One Monday morning, the schoolyard buzzed with rumors about a fire in the school over the weekend. When the bell rang I raced inside, excited by the acrid scent of burnt wood that confirmed the rumors.
Homeroom hummed with conversation. Mr. J quieted the class and explained that “Home Economics” would be cancelled due to a fire. He also… Continue reading

