Find Johnny

This picture made me laugh. It took a minute for me to find Johnny but when I found him I did laugh. Out loud.



I guess from the beginning of time every elementary school class has a Johnny. If you were really lucky you could have a couple of Johnny’s. If you had more than that nobody would learn anything.

Our Johnny was Donald Powell. No doubt about it. Hands down (or fingers up), Donald was the one who was always pushing the envelope. He made the rest of us look like angels.

Donald spent as much time in the hall as he did in the classroom. That was the progressive punishment. If you got sent to the hall three times you would then be sent to the principal’s office for a paddling. Donald spent a lot of time in the principal’s office.

In most of the classes his desk was always right beside the teacher’s desk. No way the teacher would even think about letting him sit with the general population.

I vividly remember the day Donald was sitting in his desk next to the teacher’s desk and was doing what the Johnny in this picture is doing. The difference was he was pointing at the teacher who had her back to the class and was writing on the blackboard. Everybody in the class thought it was quite funny. When the teacher turned to look at what everybody was laughing about Donald would put his hands down. This went on for a while. The teacher couldn’t figure out what everybody thought was so funny.

Donald was enjoying his classmates laughing and was looking back at his classmates and had taken his eye (but not his fingers) off the teacher. She turned around abruptly and caught him. Red handed.

We all quit laughing. Donald was sent to the office and since our classroom was very close to the principal’s office we all heard every excruciating lick during the paddling.

Another form of discipline was the receiving of demerits. A demerit was an asterisk next to your name in the grade book. Many of us boys got a few demerits. Donald’s demerits went all the way across the page of the grade book.

Donald’s nickname was Preacher. We called him preacher cause he cussed like a sailor.

No doubt about it. Preacher Powell was our Johnny.


But an interesting thing happened. He did become a sailor. After high school Donald joined the United States Navy and served our country well. When he returned he landed a job working for the United States Postal Service. It wasn’t long before he became the Postmaster in Reynolds and he has served in that capacity for many years. Everybody in Reynolds knows Donald Powell. And, trust me, everybody thinks a whole lot of him.

There is a moral to this story.

The little Johnny’s of the world who are hellions when they are growing up may just turn out to be very productive citizens. Just because they get sent out in the hall and have to sit by the teacher’s desk and have to go to the office for a lot of whippings, doesn’t make them bad people.

In fact they may just turn out to be the leaders in your community.

If you are ever in Reynolds and need help, stop by the post office and ask for Preacher Powell. He will be glad to give you a hand.

If he is busy I'm sure he will at least give you the finger.