By Scott Shephard
William and Estelle Faulkner - Oxford, Mississippi
As Deb and I approached the grave site in Oxford Memorial Cemetery, two cemetery workers raking leaves greeted us. We chatted about leaf raking for a minute and then I said, “We’re here to see William Faulkner.” One of the workers smiled broadly and said, “He still here!” We all laughed, he went back to work and Deb and I turned and paid our respects to William, whose wife lies by his side.
Much later in the day, as I reflected on our visit to the cemetery, it occurred to me that if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Lauer, my 11th grade English teacher, we wouldn’t have detoured to the town of Oxford, Mississippi, and we most certainly would not have visited Faulkner’s grave in this fascinating corner of the United States. Mrs. Lauer loved Faulkner.
I’ll have to admit that I wasn’t as big a fan of Faulkner as Mrs. Lauer was. But I was a big fan of hers. She was one of the most passionate teachers I ever had and not only can I remember things she taught but I can actually see her teaching them. At that time in my life I felt that her appeal was that she was half crazy. But 50 years later I realize that what she did was pure magic. I became an English teacher largely because of teachers like her.
Imagine sitting in a classroom at age 17, hearing about an author and his mythical Mississippi county (Yoknapatawpha) and reading one of his short stories (“A Rose For Emily”). And then, at age 70, here I am standing at the feet of William Faulkner. Teachers have such amazing power.
Mrs. Lauer died without knowing how I felt about her. That’s a huge failure on my part. The best I can do is say it again: Thank you Mrs. Lauer.
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