Remembering a Titan

No five words send shivers down my spine like the words, “I regret to inform you” do. Life stands still while my heart sinks as I learn that Mr. McInnis, one of our beloved colleagues, had passed away. He wasn’t sick that we knew of and it hadn’t been long at all since I last interacted with him, maybe a month ago or so. Today, we'll interact for the final time at his funeral, remembering and reflecting at Pinn Memorial Baptist Church in West Philly.

A retired Philadelphia public school teacher, Mr. McInnis continued to teach as a guest teacher at John B. Kelly Elementary. The thing is, he was not your run-of-the-mill guest teacher. He taught. He had control. He arrived early. He was there. He was prepared. He cared. He called and met with parents. AND he never went above 2^nd grade! {insert a smile emoji here} Choosing not to go above 2^nd grade (although I think he’d compromise on 3^rd, but not often) was certainly his right and one in which not a single person in the building had a problem with, because we all loved our Mr. McInnis, a patriarch indeed! Well, maybe one person took issue, but jokingly, which you’ll see. He’d be a teacher for grades K, one, two, our autistic support classes, gym, and maybe a couple of other “prep” classes.

Being an admirer of seasoned and older people, those who’ve gone before me, who helped pave the way, Mr. McInnis and I would always have a “moment” whenever we encountered each other in the office or in the hallway. It usually went something like this.

“Mr. Flemming!!” {smiles/laughs}

“Mr. McInnis!! Always a pleasure sir!” {smiles/laughs}

“That Mr. Scott tryna give me 4^th grade! I told him I’ll go home!” {smiles/laughs}

“Mr. McInnis, you’re retired, you can do whatever you want!” {smiles/laughs}

“I’m tryna tell ‘em!” {smiles/laughs}

“Come on Mr. McInnis,” inserts Mr. Scott. “You know I take care of you! I got a good class for you! I’m taking so-n-so and giving him to Mr. Flemming for the day, so it should be good.” {all of us enjoying a snarky laugh while Scott prepares McInnis’ schedule and day}

“So who are you today, Mr. McInnis?”

“I’m ____” (or) “I don’t know yet, but that Soctt tryna give me _____. I’ll go home.”

Later in the day...

“Mr. Flemming, I still get your emails!” He’d be referring to my forwarding of PFT union emails to an exhaustive list of John B. Kelly faculty and faculty around the district.

“Cool.”

“Always somethin’, isn’t it?”

In the beginning of the school year...

“Mr. Flemming, got any of them PFT calendars left?”

“Anything for you Mr. McInnis! Who are you today?”

“I’m ______” (or) “I don’t know yet, but that Soctt tryna give me _____. I’ll go home.”

It gets more personal. One day when we were chatting in the library at a PD, (yes, he attended those to keep his certificate current), I learned that he retired from Roberto Clemente Middle School. Small world. My aunt retired from the same school. Guess who were colleagues at Clemente? Yup, Mr. McInnis and Ms. Lewis! And for the Philly folks, I’m talking about the old Roberto Clemente at 5^th & Luzerne, which would later become the Book Bank; the Clemente I remember visiting once or twice as a kid to see my aunt and being scared of the building because it just was a scary looking place! He’d ask about my aunt often. I’d relay the message. I made sure my aunt had his number and all.

You can imagine then, the shock to my system, when I learned that he passed.

And suddenly.

This older Black man who I came to love and admire at John B. Kelly over the years. One who always wore a smile on his face. One who was old school and played no games with the students or their parents. This man who was a gentleman and a scholar indeed, a phrase of endearment I also use for another older gentleman I admire. One who will be missed and dearly. One to whom I expressed my gratitude and appreciation for every time I saw him.

I’ll always remember and cherish our exchanges of laughter and our collective digs at Mr. Scott for trying to give him 4^th grade. I’ll remember the lines of boys and girls he insisted on being straight and quiet as they passed through the corridors. I’ll remember the little boy or little girl whose phone number he’d get and whose parents he’d call. I’ll remember him being at the copier, getting his lesson and copies together to teach for the day. I’ll remember him sitting in the office, if he got the call early enough, waiting to see who he was going to be for that day. I’ll remember me passing him in the hallway, having not seen him earlier and him digging at Scott for texting him late. I’ll remember me being the teacher for the day for a kid in a compromise so that Mr. McInnis would stay {smile}. I'll remember other little chats we'd have here and there. I'll remember me saying "Great day in the morning!" and him responding, "Mr. Flemming, I haven't heard that in a long time. Great day in the morning." I’ll remember this titan of John B. Kelly Elementary School. I’ll remember the incomparable Mr. Len McInnis. It was a pleasure, sir!

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