Keepin' It Real...

I met Bill when, after one year of teaching, I left Southeastern Regional Vocational Technical High School in Easton (2006) and took a job at Tri-County in Franklin.

A good friend of mine's girlfriend was a Superintendent at a vocational high school, and she told me that Tri-County was one of the best vocational schools in Massachusetts and that I'd learn a lot teaching there. I took the job based on her recommendation.

When I arrived, there were only two instructors in the plumbing shop, me and Dave. After a back injury 20 years ago, Dave became one of the original plumbing instructors at Tri-County, helping to design the shop and write the curriculum. By the time I arrived, he was the lead instructor and also the union president, and he frequently butted heads with the then-Superintendent. 

I became the shop teacher for sophomores and juniors using the curriculum Dave wrote, and Dave taught shop for the freshmen and seniors. We needed a third instructor to teach theory, which was held in a classroom on the second floor. At Tri-County, theory classes took place during the academic cycle for the kids who rotated out of the one-week shop cycle. They ended up hiring Bill to teach theory. 

Bill was a licensed Master Plumber who briefly taught at a vocational school, so he had some teaching experience. When I met him, he was well into his 50s and had a prosthetic leg. Dave was a loner and almost unapproachable, so naturally, I developed a good rapport with Bill.

Bill grew up in South Boston and was a tough kid. I could tell by the fire in his blue eyes that he was a crazy bastard before he lost his leg, and the more stories we told, the more obvious it became. 

At one point, I asked Bill how he lost his leg and he was more than willing to share his story. He had a circulatory problem, and his leg wasn't getting enough blood flow. The doctors initially tried to increase blood flow with surgery, medications, and physical therapy, but the longer they tried, the more pain Bill was in. His leg was essentially dying…

At one point, the pain became unbearable, and that's when, during his story, Bill looked me in the eyes and asked, "Do you know how much fuckin' pain you have to be in to beg a doctor to cut your leg off?"

At that moment, I realized exactly what Bill had been through. He was a fucking warrior! For him to be standing next to me and still teaching plumbing was nothing short of incredible…

Timur Malazoniia. Getty Images.

High school kids are inherently mean. Once they discover a teacher's weakness, they use it to make fun of him or her. Because Bill was an amputee, he was an easy target, however unfair, and they didn't treat him with the respect he deserved, and that's when I stepped in…

I remember having a private heart-to-heart with my rowdy sophomore class under the second floor of the mockup. Here's a bit of what I said…

"Every day, Mr. P gets out of bed early, straps on his prosthetic leg, and starts getting ready for school. It's not as easy for him as it is for you and me… But he arrives on time every day, clean-shaven, every hair in place, pants pressed, and wearing a clean shirt. He drives here from Quincy in a specially equipped car." At that point, I became very emotional and animated, and I got their attention with, "And he does it all with one fucking leg and a smile on his face!" 

I probably could've done without the f-bomb, but that kept it real, and if I got fired, so be it. Being an effective teacher doesn't always align with Department of Education guidelines.

I concluded with, "So show this warrior some respect; no one deserves it more than him…"

They immediately changed their tune and began accepting Bill. 

The state disabilities agency offered Bill a Segway to help him get around the school. He told me when he'd have it, and we set up a grand entrance. He waited outside the shop by his car, and after morning announcements, I raised the garage door slowly, and Bill made his entrance. He looked like a fucking Roman gladiator standing tall on that Segway. He drove in and did some circles, and the kids thought it was the coolest thing in the world, and they all wanted to take it for a ride.

One day, Bill was heading into the library and had to pass through the metal detector. When he did, it disabled the Segway's gyroscope, and he crashed almost immediately. In true Bill fashion, he got right up, dusted himself off, and, with a smile on his face, assured everyone he was okay.

Later in the week, he lost control in the hallway and crashed into a concrete wall. I was with him, and I helped him up. He smiled, dusted himself off, and waved to the crowd that had gathered, signaling he was okay. Then he whispered to me, "This fuckin' thing is gonna get me fuckin' killed! I'm sending it the fuck back." That was three fucks in two short sentences. Bill was a master at that!

I tried to convince him to hold off and wait till he gave himself a chance to master driving it, but after two crashes, Bill wanted no part of it and went back to walking with a cane.

Later in the school year, Bill's healthy leg started hurting like the other one had. He went out on disability but didn't resign, so they held his job, and after some rescheduling, Dave and I taught his theory classes during our planning time. 

I kept in touch with Bill after he officially went out on permanent disability, and eventually, he had to have his other leg amputated. But that didn't stop him. Last I spoke with him, and it's been a while, he was having a special van custom-built so he could continue getting around, which, to a double amputee, is pure freedom.

Bill is a true American Hero and an inspiration to anyone with a disability. He could've folded and got deeply depressed, but he didn't. He persevered and continued living the best he could despite the cards he was unfairly dealt.

Showing respect and having compassion for people living with life-altering disabilities, well, it's all right…

Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, doing the best you can
Well it's all right, as long as you lend a hand 

Don't have to be ashamed of the car I drive
I'm glad to be here, happy to be alive 

Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, even if the sun don't shine
Well it's all right, we're going to the end of the line