The other day, Fred came to mind.  I'm not sure why, but it has prompted this post about him, one of the most admirable people I have known.


In my young, naïve days, I took up a position as English/History teacher at a small boarding school in Kent.  I was greeted in the driveway by a plump, jolly Dutchman called Fred.  I was soon to learn that Fred was on the bottom rung of the levels of importance in the school, the pupils being the ground on which the ladder stood!
Fred was about 50, married, with grown-up children.  He lived locally and was employed to clean the boys' shoes, heave heavy trunks up and down staircases, and as a general dogsbody for jobs nobody else wanted to do.  He was always cheerful, smiling and joking.  Whenever I asked him how he was, he'd reply, in a mock Yorkshire accent:
"Mustn't grumble!"
At night, Fred would dress very smartly and go for a couple of pints at his favourite pub.  It was considered by the school staff  'not correct' to associate with Fred in the pub, a place where several teachers drank, but never with Fred.
Because of his uncompromising position in the school, the boys felt free to jibe him, joke with him, and, more importantly, know that there was a shoulder to cry on, someone who would listen sympathetically as they poured out their private misery.
Fred really loved the kids and they loved him.
Years after I left the school, I met up with an ex-pupil, now 28.  During our conversation, Fred's name cropped up.  Charles regaled me with stories of Fred's kindness, patience and wisdom.  He then added:
"Fred was the lowliest in the school, but he was loved more than anyone else in the school.  If I hadn't had Fred to lean on, I think I'd have gone mad!"
The gratitude the boys felt for this wonderful man will last throughout their lives, and for much longer than their teachers' influence.