Brian McDuffie
have two parents. I had
about two thousand parents. It wasn't so bad, though.
Everybody fairly much looked out for everybody. It was a
great atmosphere
to grow up in. I can remember watching for the train at 5
p.m. every
summer night as it rolled over the top of the river bank
and watching the smoke
trail from the engine. I have fond memories of going
fishing with my best
friend, the preacher's son, and catching bass, sunfish,
bluegills, and an
occasional carp from the Muskegon 
River.
I'd often go camping out in the woods in the summer, and
scout for birds,
animals,and fish.
Most of all, though, I remember my teachers. Unlike most
children in any age, I loved school. I was fortunate to
have teachers that
really cared about me as an individual, and who were kind,
caring, and
compassionate individuals by and large. Mrs. Long, my
fourth grade
teacher, gave me a love for Geography and Social Studies
that I carry with me to
this day. I remember having long talks with her about the
migrations of
peoples in Europe across the Atlantic ocean. Mrs.
Higginson, my English
teacher,taught me the value of the written word in the
seventh grade. She
taught me that brevity and meaning could be 
synthesized
as I wrote essay after essay for her. My favorite
teacher was my Latin
teacher, Mrs. Kaufman. All through high school,Mrs.Kaufman
brought the
past alive as she tied the history of the Roman Empire to a
language that
had been reserved to the Catholic Church and scholars for
centuries. She
made me understand that the act of communication was a gift
to me handed
down through the eons by scholars such as Plato, Socrates,
Pliny, and
Caesar,and something not to be trivialized or wasted.
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