See, the Boettcher Scholarship is given to 40 kids statewide every year. They receive a full ride to all 4 years at a Colorado school.
I was not in the running for a Boettcher in 1984 when I barely graduated from GMHS.
Frankly, I'm not even sure I knew what "The Boettcher" was outside of a concert hall and a very rich Colorado family.
Each student then is asked to choose one of their teachers to receive a $1000.00 grant for their department.
I'm going into my 10th year at LHS, and I recall 3 Boettcher scholars in that time. I have no doubt there were others, but I didn't know them.
Last year's scholar told me about the grant money, and which teacher he was giving it to-math, of course- which was the first I'd heard of it. I said "You get to do what?" How rich are these people?
Answer: So Freaking Rich.
In 1984 when I graduated, we had some freaking stellar teachers at GMHS. It was the perfect storm. The Starkeys ruled Lang Arts, Bud ran the theatre like a mini-conservatory, Steve Meinenger was Da Bomb in music, and I heard Shibley (what was his first name?) the band teacher was a real jazz musician, which was to either explain or excuse his apparent daily hangovers.
And there was Peter Melbach: History.
Sometimes called "Peter Von Melbach" or "Fucking Melbach" or just "Melbach".
My freshman year I got a "C" in his class. I learned more from him than any other history teacher, ever, and regardless of the grade I signed up for his class again sophomore year. Fall semester I got an "F". I left my WWI map at a school in Salida while on tour with concert choir. When I returned, crying, beggging for just ONE extra day to redo the map, I was coldly told "No. It was due today" by Melbach.
Later, after having class with him as much as I could, I came into his classroom with Shadows to sing to some kid in his class. He grabbed me by the door and said "You have more talent in your little finger than most of this school. Don't waste it."
I was terrified and kept thinking it was an insult.
Forward twenty years. I was a waitress at My Brothers Bar in Denver, which turns out to be Peter Melbach's favorite watering hole. Every time I would see him, he would ask about what I was doing ("Some show here, film over there, shot a commercial, blah blah blah") and he would say "Why aren't you teaching?" and I would say "Because you are. I'm not needed."
Then one night I said "I am thinking about it. Maybe subbing first?" and he lit up like I'd never seen and just said "Yes."
And the rest, as they say, is history...
But then...
The LHS Boettcher scholar this year was a theatre kid. And he chose me to receive the grant money.
So I got to go to the fancy shmancy Boettcher ceremony at the Botanic Gardens.
It rained, there was an accident and we were late, but we made it. "We" meaning Jim and I because I Got To Bring A Date!
As I sat next to Ryan (the Boettcher Scholar, the kid who did all the work and who should get all the credit) watching the teacher/student parade and awaiting our moment, I saw Peter Melbach, heard his name announced and watched him accept a plaque.
I gasped and looked at Jim "No way!"
This is where I tell you my loving and supportive husband said "It's like if Spicoli was at the same awards as Mr. Hand." Yes, yes it is, and enjoy the couch tonight, dear.
Funny, but wrong.
I looked at the program and Peter Melbach has a denotation by his name indicating he is a "multiple recipient" of the Boettcher money.
Of course he is.
So when Ryan and I lined up to await our turn, I saw Peter in the front row and I started waving at him like a three year old at her dad on the merry go round.
Seriously, you cannot take me anywhere. I have no doubt Ryan was humiliated and was wishing he'd chosen a grown up for the award money.
Also, I cannot be around my high school teachers. When Bud comes to shows I am inconsolable. I still want nothing more than for Kathy Starkey to think I'm smart. Steve Meinenger got flipped off when he asked if I was supposed to be using the printer in the band office---this was three years ago. I was 44 years old.
Poor Melbach must have thought I was "special"or had suffered a brain injury.
Once we were released to the alcohol and food tables---wait, a moment should be taken to compliment the Boettcher's ability to know how to make high school teachers happy: free booze, free food and an invitation to wander around Denver Botanic Gardens for free. These guys get it.
I got my red wine and made a beeline for Peter. I have no doubt anybody watching saw a crazy stalker.
Once in front of him, I realized I had nothing to say. I mean...he's Peter Fucking Melbach, Five Time Boettcher recipient and Rock Star IB History Teacher. I'm Schleppy The Clown. The last time we spoke I asked him if he wanted another beer.
So I said "Can we get a photo to prove you and I are at the same awards?" He was gracious and kind and said of course.
His prinicpal offered to take the photo and I was out of conversation starters when Peter said "Congratulations."
"Thanks. Wow. You too. How may is this?"
He shrugged. "Five."
I downed half my glass of wine.
He indicated my glass "Where'd you get that?"
AH! YES! Booze! A way in!
"Over there, I'll walk with you."
He stopped first and looked at me. The man has the most intense, intelligent eyes. I thought how much they look like Kathy Starkey's eyes and how I hope he doesn't see nothing at all in mine.
He said "You are a great teacher."
I shook my head. "Dude, you have no idea."
He stood firm. "Yes I do. I know. I knew it in high school.Congrats."
Inside I was screaming and dancing and barfing and outside I held it together THANK YOU YEARS OF ACTING TEACHERS and said "Thanks. Seriously." And we walked together toward the booze and he called me kryssi and told me he was retiring and wants to write an historical fiction novel and see "what else is out there" after 38 years of teaching.
Like we were colleagues or something. Not like we were Peter Fucking Melbach and Schleppy
The Clown.
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