Charles Pfaff

Mr. Pfaff always had a five-o'clock shadow, even after he shaved. (Sometimes we suspected that he shaved at lunch.) He was a swarthy, Germanic, bull of a man, who loved to teach. His students could tell.

When he first showed up in class, he was intimidating because of his size and demeanor. He had a "weak" eye that wandered up and to the outside when he was tired, and that gave him a terrible, angry look. But soon we knew he wasn't angry. We all saw him frustrated at not making a point clear for us. We saw him sad at test results. We saw him try crazy things to make us study - like standing on his head on his desk - if we weren't keeping up. We saw him happy at our successes, but we never saw him angry.

He knew it was important that we learn. He also somehow knew when we were learning, even if we didn't do well on the tests. He could tell who would be ok at the next level and who wouldn't.

We knew he cared. We knew without a doubt that he'd help us if we asked, so we did. He was one of the very few teachers who talked to each student about her/his place in the class and the work at hand. He cared.

He cared so much he was an inspiration. He inspired the yearning for knowledge. He taught us that learning could be fun. Even algebra. Even physics.

I saw him in a McDonalds fifteen years after I left his last class. I told him that he was a big reason that I developed a love of learning. He smiled and said that he was afraid I might not make it. What had happened after high school? When I told him I had a masters degree, he said that he was really glad. I knew he was.

Charles ("Chuck") Pfaff changed many lives. I was just one. He was a difference person.