Tuesday, August 25, 2009
History
I love history. It ties back to my high school years with my favorite teacher of all times, Mr. Fred Horlacher. My junior year Nevada History class was the most amazing experience of my life. Mr. Horlacher lived and breathed history. He brought it life. We never had a book in his class. If his lecture was on the Civil War, he'd come in dressed as a soldier and tell us about the Civil War as if he lived it. One time he came in full Native American garb. A full feather headress and all. You took your notes from his lecture and that's what he tested on. He was the coolest teacher in the whole school.
He was also the advisor for the Ghost Towners Nevada History Club. You fought to get into his classes and to get into the club. It was only open to upperclassmen and was a blast to be in. We went on field trips all around Northern Nevada. Our initiation into the club was walking around the Virginia City cemetery on Halloween night at midnight. Come on, how cool was that? He had it boobytrapped with sounds and people to scare us. After we walked around (and screamed a lot) we sat around the headstones as he told us real life "ghost" stories about the residents of Virginia City. I can still close my eyes and see exactly what it looked like. It's a snapshot I've had in my brain all these years.
He took us along the same path the infamous Donner Party took that fateful winter. He had handed out beef jerky to us and we walked by moonlight. No flashlights. He told us the sad story about the Donner Party. Of course, once they got to the part of cannibalizing, the beef jerky just didn't taste good anymore. lol
He loved to play practical jokes on us. Sitting around a campfire, he would tell us stories about the Native Americans that lived around Lahontan resevoir. He would have us repeat a few Paiute phrases. Owa Ta Foo Iam. Over and over we'd say it. Suddenly people started giggling. More and more of us got it. What a crack up he was.
He sent newbie students on "snipe" hunting trips. Those who knew about snipes kept out laughter quiet until the newbs were out in the dark making noises and carrying a burlap bag.
I learned to appreciate and respect the history of Nevada because of Mr. Horlacher. And because his passion for history rubbed off on me, I am learning to love and respect the history of Texas. And Texas has a lot of history wrapped up within its borders. Each day trip we take we learn something else about this place we call home.
Mr. Horlacher would be proud.
Labels:
Fred Horlacher,
History,
Nevada,
Texas
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