Pitchers of purple grape juice arranged on our long white table cloth were symbolic of Roman red wine.  I thought my friend Ed (Hennessee) who sat beside me was reminiscent of a joyous Julius Caesar as he led all of us in his robust gaiety as if that juice was 'really' a Roman table wine, a vintage worthy of a celebrating Roman centurion.  Either that or John Belushi leading us in an uproarious a food fight.  I miss Ed, a really funny guy and so smart too (his SAT score was over 1500!).

 

Mrs. Fisher was a special teacher--anyone who could teach me how to conjugate those irregular Latin verbs had to be. And her creative sway arranging that boisterous toga party we all loved....

 

I was proud taking Latin. Who takes Latin? But Mrs. Fisher made it all seem so worthwhile. Her class was my first at Broughton that sophomore year--held in one of those small trailers out front of that stately school near the flag pole.  My second class was Mrs. Fountain's World History class--a real murderer's row those two back-to-back classes, but really great teachers in Mrs. Fountain and Mrs. Fisher.  What a wonderful experience Broughton was.