Saturday, May 25, 2024
I was a tender and scared twelve year old, moving to a new school and a new life in Quebec. I walked into my grade 7 class petrified to see thirteen girls. Not a single boy but thirteen girls and a tall framed gentleman, dapper and with blazing inquisitive eyes.
“Thank God you’ve saved me!”
Mr McAdam exclaimed, throwing both arms high.
The room now giggling at his larger than life exclamation.
His silver hair and full beard were combed neatly, hair parted to a side.
“I thought that I’d be surrounded all year, but reinforcements have arrived” a smile flashed across his face.
That year I grew and learned like I’ve never had the opportunity. That year our class performed three plays, two music concerts, Judo lessons, weekend long field trips to the Appalachian mountains in Vermont and New Hampshire. We read the Iliad, the Odyssey and Foust ..
History came to life in Mr McAdams class, and words had strength.
We learned how he hid his black friends in South Africa, to keep them safe. He would tell us around the campfire the kind of courage it took to be Steve Biko.
We all came to learn of compassion and bravery. Our thirst for knowledge and adventure kindled by Mr McAdams fire.
Those of us who had him as a teacher, knew the kind of courage it took to be Mr McAdam and we are forever warmed by your memory.
Love and admiration for David McAdam,
Vincent C Joyall
Grade 7
Masonville Qc
