Miss Riley

      Many of you are familiar with the movie “October Sky.” It happens to be one of my favorites of all time.

     This poignant video traces the life of Homer Hickam, a West Virginia teen, who challenged his region’s “expectational” barriers. You see, Homer, contrary to most of his peers, developed an intense and life-long interest in science. (Most of his classmates would go on to work in the local coal mines, but his sights were, literally, fixed on the heavens.)

     For Homer and three of his friends found themselves inspired by the launch of the Russian Sputnik satellite. It was the age of Werner Von Braun and the space race, and these developments weren’t casually passing them by.

     I cannot but watch the end of “October Sky” without weeping. Why, it was only last night, and I found Jean looking at me in abject wonder. “Are you crying?” And I blubbered out, “Well, yes I am.”

    You see, the movie concludes with a few brief segments of historical film footage. We see Homer and the other boys busily occupied with their “toy” rockets; some of which eventually reached six miles into the atmosphere.

But the scene which always elicits my tears is the ten second segment of Miss Riley, Homer’s science teacher.

     Miss Riley was a mentor; par excellence. She inspired the boys to believe they could be something; that their dreams could sail as high as Sputnik. That precious teacher was young then, and the film footage enshrines her in that elusive category; Forever Young.

 

     For though Homer and his friends went on to win The National Science Award, and each graduated from college, and though our boy-hero eventually landed a job at NASA, training astronauts, Miss Riley’s life took an entirely different turn.

 

She never left that rural community in West Virginia and she departed this earth far too early. Yet in her time, she was a mentor among mentors. For this humble little teacher embraced her role, as she would a lover. It is reported that in the waning days of her life that her students regularly carried her into the classroom on a stretcher!

    Miss Riley has become a mentor for me. For even in death, she lives, and inspires me to impact the lives of the next generation.

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Musings"