Some of us called him "Hank" outside class. Hazou called him "Hank" in
class. Once. He was possibly the easiest teacher to imitate. Adopt a
weary, "here we go again" expression, snarl out a question then trail off
with fatigue, cutting off any reply: "Awwright! Peter, you wanna put
problem 5 on the board-ank ya." Most boys found him funny. Not many girls
did. "And of course Molly the obvious answer is C-P-C-T-C which is (hands
conducting the orchestra) congruent parts of congruent triangles are
congruent-ank ya." If we said it with him, he'd smile, cock his head and
remind us "people, this isn't hard, just follow the rules."

But I didn't listen. It was more fun to think of geometry as nonsense, a
farrago of postulates, axioms and theorems leading nowhere, like the
treasure maps Huntz Hall drew for the Bowery Boys. He gave fair warning in
September; geometry was like no class we'd ever had. And put away the
rulers and protractors. We weren't building mobiles for Mrs. Kaftel.
Geometry was pure deduction, reasoning from general rules to solve specific
problems. Except that the solution wasn't a number, it was a proof, with so
many arcane steps it made the story problems of algebra seem like
knock-knock jokes. It was easier to just hate it all. That 4th period slot
before lunch during '72-'73 was just unbearable.

Except when Hank made it fun. Funny anyway. He was the most sarcastic
teacher in the school-a tonic for a callow sophomore who adopted sarcasm as
a lifestyle. He got names wrong on purpose. Nat Mesnikoff was always
"Nate." Peter became "Hazou" after his slip-up. If I went to the
blackboard and tried to wing last night's homework, I had about 10 seconds
before "C'mon! Somebody wanna help Dave out up there? Help us all out for
Christ's sake-this is EASY!" Mortifying, but funny at lunch. He was right
though, if I followed the rules instead of watching "McMillan and Wife", I
could do it.

But I didn't work. Not until May, with the Regents looming. If I put in
the extra time, he'd de-mystify it: the Regents was just a drill the state
put us through, so stop whining and jump through the hoop, not into it.
Geometry, like much of life, was gettable if I stopped hating it, stopped
giggling at him and concentrated.

Many years after graduation, Mark Bingham and I were playing tennis at a
singles tennis party in Portchester. Pathetic. We were the youngest there
by 10 years. But then we spotted Hank on another court. Excellent! Hank's
cruising (we were too, and nobody was getting anything). The hair was
greyer, but the eyes and smile still retained their slightly demonic cast.
We played doubles with him; he was courteous, friendly, reserved. I never
saw him again: what else could we say after sharing declarations of social
bankruptcy?

I should have told him that I appreciated his message. Don't use a
subject's reputation for difficulty as an excuse to shrug, giggle helplessly
and fail. Apply the rules, solve the problems. Geometry wasn't useful
later on, but that was.

Dave Virrill