I want to thank HONEYWLDCAT for her invaluable help with this story. Her editing was extremely helpful and right on point. Thank you.
It was my first day of school and not wanting to be late I arrived about an hour early. My instructions were to go to the Principal's office, where we would be directed to the room the orientation would take place. When I got to the office, the secretary gave me a funny look when I asked about the orientation. She asked me my name and I told her.
She said, "Oh, yes, Mr. Fitzgibbons, the orientation will start in the auditorium and after the principal talks, you will be split up into groups for the rest of the day. Basically, that's the way it will be all week. Dr. North will meet with you individually during the week, just to get to know you. She does that with the new teachers, but the orientation doesn't start for another forty-five minutes."
I smiled, "I know I'm early but I wasn't sure how long it would take to get here, so I gave myself plenty of time. I haven't been in Baltimore very long." I explained.
"Well, welcome to Baltimore and to Grant High School. I'm sure you will like it here. We have a great Boss," she said
"Thank you and that's good to hear. I sure hope that I like it here." I said as I started for the auditorium.
Yes, at the age of twenty-eight I was starting my first REAL job. Not that I haven't worked, but...
IN THE BEGINING
I grew up in Syracuse, New York. I lived with my Mother and older sister, June. June was ten years older than me. Overall she was a great sister. She babied me and basically took over with raising me after my father died and Mom had to work.
My father died when I was three years old. I was twelve when my sister got married and moved to California. I missed her terribly. But, I would spend my summers in Berkley, California. Like my sister, I was bright and a hard worker. As a result I was pushed ahead twice in elementary school, I graduated grade school at the age of twelve.
I hated high school. "Baby Boy" was my nickname. Being so much younger than the rest of the students, I was constantly picked on and was the target for every bully and bully-wanna-be. My solution was to join the swim team and constantly work out. It sort of worked, about half way through my freshman year, no one called me "Baby Boy", at least not to my face and the bullies stayed clear of me.
But, that didn't mean I was accepted. The swim team sort of accepted me, at least when we were at practice and during swim meets, but not when we were in school. I survived and graduated in the top five percent of my class at the ripe old age of sixteen.
Shortly after graduation my mother lost her fight with cancer. After the funeral and settling her affairs, selling the house and car, I moved to California and lived with my sister, her husband Bryan, and their two year old daughter Cassy. I had been accepted into the University of California at Berkley, which wasn't far from my sister's home.
College was pretty much the same thing, but there I was "The Kid". It did get better after a while, especially when kids my age started to attend. I dated some but nothing serious. I was nineteen when I graduated, with a degree in Mathematics. After graduation I decided to see the world, and I took a trip to Europe. I had some money that my Mom left me and I had been saving my money from the various jobs I had while in school.
By staying in Youth Hostels and being frugal, I spent two months traveling around Europe.
LEGION ETRANGERE
My last stop was Paris, the City of Lights. I loved it. One day I was walking around the city taking in the sights, I stopped in front of a French Army recruiting office. As I stood there looking at the photos of the solders and the equipment, I heard someone say something to me in French. I turned and saw a guy about my age, who was speaking to me in French.
I said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand you."
He smiled and said, "Ah, you are an American." He asked, "Are you thinking of joining the Legion?'"
"The Legion? Oh, this is the French Foreign Legion. Well I guess when I was a kid I thought about it. But..."
He interrupted saying, "Well, I am very seriously considering it. I guess I am just trying to work up the courage to actually enlist."
I looked at him and laughingly said. "Well, we will never become Legionnaires by standing here."
He laughed and said, "Shall we?"
We went in and signed a five-year contract, becoming members of Légion étrangère, the French Foreign Legion. I signed under a pseudonym, "declared identity" and I officially became Henry Duval. To paraphrase Bogart, this was the start of a beautiful friendship.
To this day I have no idea what possessed me to join. It was an impulse that completely turned my life around.
I learned my new friend was Marcel Danjou. He had just received The Grand Diplome from l'Ecole Le Cordon Bleu Paris. He was an extraordinary chef, but he hated cooking. He had been following in his father's footsteps, because his parents wanted him to.
We went through our initial training together and upon graduation we both went into Parachute School. Finally, we were assigned to the 2e Régiment Étranger de Parachutistes, 2e REP (2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment) stationed on the island of Corsica. A place I fell in love with.
I did get to see the world; the Horn of Africa, Yugoslavia (as it broke up), the middle-east, south-east Asia. A lot of places you read about in the news and a bunch that you didn't.
When we were at home in Corsica, I attended l'Ecole Le Cordon Bleu du Marcel. In other words, Marcel taught me how to cook. It was amazing that this Chef, who professed that he hated cooking, would be such a great teacher. He was patient, explained everything, and never got annoyed when I screwed up. Over time, even if I say so myself, I became a rather good cook. I would never call myself a Chef, but I could more than handle myself in the kitchen.
By the time our five year contracts were up, both Marcel and I were Sous-Officiers or Sergents. We both signed another one-year contract, and did it again the next year.
However, after seven years in the Legion, I decided that it was enough. One evening, I went into Marcel's room and said, "I have something to tell you, mon ami. I'm not going to sign another contract, I think that seven years is enough and I want to go home."
Marcel laughed, "Once again you have beaten me to the punch. I was working up the courage to tell you, that I am leaving. Catherine and I have decided to get married. But, you cannot go home before you act as my best man."
Marcel had met Cathering on home leave, she was the sister of one of his childhood friends. He was nuts about her and I really wasn't surprised with this announcement. So the two youths who joined the Legion together were leaving together. To be honest, I am not sure what I would have done had Marcel decided to stay. But, that is something I don't have to worry about.
The French Government always boasted that it would help Legionnaires get back into civilian life. They really did right by me. My Superior Officer helped me get into the American University in Paris. I wanted to take some courses in education. While studying at the University, I was able to do student and substitute teaching at the American School in Paris.
After a year I received my Masters in Education and was qualified as a teacher anywhere in France and the United States. A professor I had, John Reynolds, who had also been in the Legion, arranged a meeting with a friend of his, Mr. Peter Brant who was visiting Paris. Mr. Brant just happened to be the Chancellor of the Board of Education of Baltimore, MD, USA.
In a few weeks with all the paperwork filled out I was offered a position as a High School Math Teacher with the Baltimore Board of Education. Leaving Paris and Marcel and Catherine was heart wrenching. We had been together for the last seven years. I had spent most of my home leaves with him at his parent's home outside of Amsterdam. His parents told everyone that I was their adopted son. I though of them as my parents, they were Mama and Papa to me.
When the time came, they were all at the airport watching me leave and waving to me until the plane was in the air. I cried. And that's how I ended up sitting in the auditorium in Grant High School, listening to a rather attractive principal, Dr. Genevieve North telling the new teachers about Grant HS.
