Pitchers of purple grape juice arranged on our long white table cloth were symbolic of Roman red wine that night in the Broughton cafeteria.  I thought my classmate, Ed (Hennessee) who sat beside me that night 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 even worthy of a celebrating Roman centurion wrapped in that white toga of his.  Either that or John Belushi in Animal House leading us in an uproarious 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, that so-called dead language, anyway? But Mrs. Fisher made it all seem so worthwhile. Her class was my first at Broughton my sophomore year--held in one of those small trailers near the flag pole out front of that stately school.  My second class was Mrs. Fountain's World History class held on the second floor of the main building--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.