The year was 1942. The place was Junior High School. I was in the ninth grade. There was another English teacher giving me fits. She had the painful habit of poking her forefinger in that depression at the base of your neck. You know, where your collarbones meet in the middle.

I could stand before her talking about something or other, when, with no warning and quick as a spark, she would give me a poke. Or anyone else within her reach. It was a game with her. You know, it was hard to talk to someone at arms length but that was the only safe place to be. I plotted revenge.

Mother gave me a nickel for a candy bar for lunch. I didn't want to admit to my classmates that I didn't have a regular lunch so I would go for a walk during our lunch break. I was always back by the time they finished theirs. I usually walked the neighborhood near our school. I took a different turn one day and walked into the field behind the school. So what, you say?

I came upon a nest, or whatever you call a bunch of snakes, in the deep grass. A mama garter snake and a ka-jillion of her babies in a writhing mess. It was almost a ball of snakes. A brilliant plan flashed through my mind. I quickly scooped up a handful of the babies before Mama could bite me. I knew that snakes in a dark place would lay there quietly, so into my jacket pocket they went.

My first class after lunch was that English class. It was usually a quiet time. I walked in and took my seat. The snakes lay snoozing in my pocket. I waited ten minutes or so until everyone was busy with their seat work. Then reaching in my pocket, cradling the baby snakes in my hand, I quietly eased them down to the floor. The snakes came alive!

To be sure the critters did not go unnoticed, I jumped up onto the seat of my chair and started screaming, “Snake! Snake!” That got everyone's attention. The room cleared with a traffic jam at the door. Poor frightened me continued to stand on my chair, shivering with supposed fear. I was helped down and out of the room by another teacher.

That spelled the end of that class session. The principal was determined to find the culprit that turned those snakes loose. Each child was questioned individually. Everyone but me. I had been so frightened that it couldn't possibly have been me, And after all, I was an A student. Such students don't pull pranks like that.

There was a good outcome. That teacher never again poked her finger into that little depression at the base of neck. Somehow she got the message.

This has been one my all time favorite stories. There is a lesson here.. Don't assume anyone is innocent.