It would have been another Personnel Committee appeal process as so many others before. It ended up being the appeal that never happened. What was shaping up to be a contentious and divisive meeting developed into the beginning of a reconciliation and intervention process that left both parties, administrative and teaching, feeling positive about the present turn of events and future possibilities. I like it when adversarial positions are traded in for cooperative solutions. It should happen more often than it does in church circles. Oh, the patience of the saints....
In any case, the meeting was over sooner than expected and I was looking forward to a three hour long drive back from Holbrook Indian School through Heber, Rye, Payson, and other small hamlets sprinkled about the mountain ridges that lay between Interstate 40 on the northeast side of the state and the great Valley of the Sun, in central Arizona. Looking forward to the trip is probably not the best way to describe my general attitude towards the impending after-hours sojourn. I was tired and hungry. The best news is that due to the shift in the tenor of the meeting, adjournment took place before 8:00 p.m. I was gassed up and ready to go. I anticipated I would be home sometime after 11:00 p.m., if all went as planned. As planned....
Although the meeting ended on the short side of 8:00 p.m., the meeting had, for all intent and purposes, already concluded long before. We were just chatting pleasantries around the table about our respective journeys to Holbrook. Ted Benson and Kelly Bock had come from different directions but with a specific purpose beyond the committee meeting. They were delivering a truckload of donated items to the school. That is another story altogether, but it is germane because of a tale shared by Ted regarding his journey down the very road I had taken earlier.
Ted recalled how while on one of the roads weaving their way through the picturesque scenery of mountain ranges between Phoenix and Holbrook he encountered a surprising sight. He was driving after hours, as I recall the story, through the section of the highway that posts various warnings about wildlife, elks and dear particularly, who are residents of those forested areas. The problem arises when these forest animals make excursions onto the highway and have unplanned and totally unexpected close encounters with on-coming traffic. This is more apt to take place in the night hours, since these beasts apparently have no curfews.
Ted was somewhat prepared for elk and deer, he was not prepared for wild pigs-- Havelina pigs! These animals apparently roam aimlessly in these forests in search for new odors to add to their collection. Since these grotesquely hairy animals lack in the area of social graces associated with personal hygiene, they simply accumulate a combination of scents, one over the previous hideous stench, to the point that you may not always see them, but you can smell their presence long before they make a physical appearance. Well, in the middle of the highway, Ted encountered two 500 lbs. Havelina pigs. He did not stop to ask why they were crossing the road, or if in fact they intended ever to cross the road. He honked the horn on his oversized truck and that was sufficient to break up the porcine ad hoc committee.
To this tale all those present at the meeting added their personal words of advice as to how to avoid the inevitable encounter with some type of wildlife on the way home. Kelly advised, "If you see an elk or dear, turn off your lights and honk your horn." Apparently elk or dear will not move in the presence of oncoming headlights (thus the "dear in the headlights" idiom). They will run from the noise, but only if there are no headlights. Go figure! I asked myself, "What if they are deaf?" "What if they happen to be a stubborn animal, and chose not to move anyway?" I am heading at them blindly in the dark! They assured me they would move before I turned my headlights again. Oh, that's a relief!
They warned me about speed traps in the hills. They vividly described the topographical scenes that I should look out for, lest I be surprised by over-zealous patrol officers lurking inside their patrol cars embedded in the bushes on the side of the highway. I made mental note of all their suggestions and vivid descriptions of wildlife gone wild!
Armed with this pertinent information-- I was wreck all the way home! I saw antlers around every curve and behind every tree (and there are lots of trees between Holbrook and Phoenix!). I controlled my speed out of fear that I would be unable to stop in time in the event that a one ton Elk would prance across the highway at the very moment of my passing (bad choice of words). Even worse, what is a family of overweight Havelinas wobbled onto the very stretch (stench) of road I was on? How would the headlines read? "Superintendent Ham-bushed by Havelinas!" I imagined a giant crazed dear jumping out of foliage at any moment. Sasquatch might even make an appearance. That is not even considering my law-enforcement phobia. I did not drop my guard for one moment until I turned onto Shea Boulevard or Road or Street, whatever it is, on the outskirts of Scottsdale.
Maybe that is what it took to keep me awake and alert on the trip home. I was pretty beat when I got to Holbrook! Whatever the case might be, I am happy to be back in the office. The docket it full. By the way, I developed an addiction to CornNuts on this trip. I am not sure how to interpret the benefits or side-effects of my newly-acquired CornNuts vice. I am certain I will be seeing dancing Havelinas in my sleep for nights to come. If I wake up and can't sleep, I can always go and fetch some CornNuts!
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