At the beginning of my first class in college, the instructor drew two circles on the chalkboard; one huge one and a tiny circle above it. He explained that most of humanity fits in the large circle. College educated people were in the small circle. We were in the small one, he said. Ok, but there are some mighty strange ones on our circle. let me explain.

Our instructor for Abnormal Psychology was first of all in charge of the mental ward at a nearby prison. The course was a required one for all prison guards, but anyone could take the class. There were only three women in this class. I was one of them. I always wondered what make people tick. This would be a good way to add to my required course list.

This instructor was a strange duck. Let me describe his entrance into the classroom. When the bell rang, the class would already be seated. No one dared being late. At exactly one minute after the bell, he would make his grand entrance. It was a sight to behold.

The door would open. The room became silent. Our instructor would glide across the front of the room toward the window sill. Every eye was on him. Dressed all in black, he looked like something out of a Hitchcock movie: black umbrella (didn't have to be raining), black topcoat, black suit, black bowler hat, black gloves and sometimes a black scarf. The class silently watched him as he slowly and silently went through his every day ritual.

He stopped at the window sill and slowly placed his umbrella on the ledge. Then his black gloves would be slowly removed, one finger at a time. Each glove was carefully smoothed out and slowly laid next to the umbrella. Using both hands, he removed his black bowler hat and placed it near his gloves. His black topcoat was draped over a nearby chair. He wore a black suit and tie. And yes, he had black hair. What a performance.

We all watched silently as this spectacle unfolded. You could hear a pin drop. We were properly intimidated. His teaching style was lecture, with almost no interaction with the class. Grading on the bell curve, I was lucky to earn a B.

The instructor would punctuate his lecture with anecdotes of his prison experiences. Since most of his class were prison guards, his stories held a special interest for them. He encountered situations in his prison practice that is best not to mention here.

This was my only exposure to Abnormal Psychology. It was more than enough. What an eye opener. I found myself examining my own mental health as the semester unfolded. "Did I have that condition?" "Was I like that?" Later, I learned that this was the usual response to the subject matter. I was sorry I had sold my textbook, but maybe it was just as well.

Did you have an instructor or teacher that you remembered as being a bit different? Tell your children when they complain about a teacher, "You think you have it hard? Let me tell you about a teacher I had?" Or maybe not.

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