For the first seven years of my schooling, Earl Zehr was my teacher in our little one-room country school. He taught all eight grades. Additionally, he was playground supervisor at recess, drama coach for school holiday programs, pianist for our morning patriotic song, and janitor to tidy up at the end of each day. Time was set aside each day when he would read a chapter in the latest book he had chosen to share with us. I can still see the reverent way he held a book and turned the pages, as his measured voice took us to adventure in far-away places. He inspired in me a love of the written word that has enriched my life immeasurably. I will be forever grateful.
This schoolroom scene is actually "constructed" of eight different bits and pieces harvested from cyber-surfing, into a reasonable facsimile of the corner of the schoolroom where his desk sat. That little one-room school is gone now, existing only in the memories of those of us who attended in those wind-swept prairie days. This is my tribute to Mr. Zehr.