The Most Shocking Day of My Childhood

    There is nothing as shocking as the sudden unexpected death of someone you know. 

    As I was doing a bit of research for the blog I wrote yesterday about getting a paddling at school, and  was looking through some of the artifacts I still have from that long ago era, that I came upon this 1959 photograph.  The shock of tragic loss, seared through my being as I glanced at that smiling face.

    It is a photo of Mr. James Mohr, my sixth grade teacher.  As you can see he was a young, handsome, and friendly man who was one of the favorite teachers of those who had him.  Even though he was the one that gave me a paddling, I really liked him.

    I believe it was on a Saturday morning in 1960 or 1961 when my sister and I got up to eat breakfast that we were told by our parents that Mr. Mohr had been in an automobile accident as he and his family had been traveling down in Kentucky to visit relatives.  His VW Beetle had been hit by a drunken driver, and he and his wife had been killed.  (This all happened long ago, so I can’t verify all of the facts, but this is the way I remember it.)

     I would have been about 12 or 13 at the time and, remarkably, I had never experience a death of anyone close.  All of my grandparents and other relatives were still alive.  I would have, of course, seen thousands of “deaths” on movies and television shows, but I was still a virgin as far as real death was concerned.  Hearing and reading the news in the newspaper, was unfathomable to both my sister and I  and we were inconsolable,  as were the other students in our elementary school.

    His death was a devastating lesson about the fleeting nature of life.  Unfortunately it is something that happens to everyone, and to many, it is an loss of someone much closer than a teacher, that teaches this grim lesson.  For me was Mr. Mohr’s death that created the childhood scars and realizations that I still bear all these many years later.

   Note:

 I just received some additional information from an old friend, neighbor, and classmate.  Here is what Carol had to say about Mr. Mohr:

    Mr. Mohr's death was the most shocking day of my childhood too. I really loved him. 

As far as details go, here is what I remember:

It was either late winter or early spring, 1961*.  We were in the 8th grade.  Mr. Mohr, his wife, and their three little girls were all hit by a drunk driver.  Mr. Mohr's oldest daughter was the only survivor.  I think she was about 5 years old.  I can still see in my mind the family portrait that was on the front page of the Courier.  I must have saved it for many years, but finally let it go.

   I, too, think it was a Saturday morning when we learned this horrible news.  I remember being home and crying and crying.  

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant.ca