Fast Times at Ridgemont High - A True Story

Danny

“Some people,” said Mrs. George, “come to this school to learn.”

She was red-eyed and shaking as she faced her morning speech class. Today was meant to be Debate Day, a period in which students like Damone and The Rat took the podium and argued such subjects as “The fifty-five-mile-per-hour speed Limit: Boon or Bust,” but it was obvious there would be no speeches and no debates on this morning. This morning Mrs. George had been awakened with the news that one of her students had hanged himself.

His name was Danny Boyd, and to many students he had been a joke figure, another campus character. Danny Boyd had been a senior for two years, taking a couple of courses at a time, trying to improve his grades to get into a state college. He wasn’t around school that much, but he always carried a big black briefcase with a double combination lock. Sometimes he stood around the parking lot, near Mrs. George’s brown Monarch, talking with other members of the “briefcase preppy set.” Like the surfers, they too had been pushed out onto the parking lot by the fast-food militia, but not even the briefcase set could really find room for Danny Boyd.

“Danny came to me two months ago,” said Mrs. George, “and told me that nobody here would talk to him.” She was a teacher of great enthusiasm, and nobody had quite heard such disgust in her voice before. “He felt that just because he studied more than the rest of you for College Boards, he made people feel uncomfortable. All of you knew he had to work harder, and still not one of you reached out to him. You were all too busy with yourselves.” She sighed, examining her hand.

“Well. He was turned down again last week by every college he applied to. And it appeared to him he didn’t have a single friend to help him through his disappointment. You were all too busy . . .”

In the nervous silence of the room, only the electric buzz of the clock was heard. Mrs. George looked up again.

“Sometimes I sit back there and listen to you talk amongst yourselves,” said Mrs. George. “And it is absolutely amazing to me. You talk about your working hours, your adult lives and your adult emotions, yet you are all such children, really. You’d do yourselves well to remind yourselves of that from time to time.”

And even though Mrs. George had not been particularly close to Danny Boyd, she made a point of admonishing each of her classes for their insensitivity toward the student. There was a special article on Danny ordered for the school paper, the yearbook staff made an announcement that they would keep him in with the senior class photos. Danny Boyd became a special cause for about two weeks, before the onrushing pace of high school events swept his memory into the past.