I first met John Yager at Jefferson High School, where we were both teachers. This was around 1966; John arrived to teach shop shortly after I had started as a math teacher and track coach. We hit it off easily; he was as humble and honest as you could find, someone you wanted to be around. I think everyone liked him.
John was a talented and skilled guy; I think he could do anything with wood! And he loved to be around the kids. He would set them off on projects — a cutting board for mom, say, or a bench for dad — and then he would be there to guide them through the details. If you needed help, he’d be there. I think the kids responded to that; if they had a question, they felt comfortable going to him. He not only wanted to help them, but to make them feel at ease.
But John also had a sense of humor, always coming up with jokes and funny things. You had to be on your toes at all times when he was around — which suited me well. One day, I was walking towards the gym for track practice. A number of kids were by the gym doors of the gym. John happened to be walking toward me, and as he got closer, I took a starter’s pistol out of my pocket. I shot at him twice, and he got the joke instantly — grabbed his chest, spun around, fell to the ground and curled up in a ball.
