fp october 08 cover

Home

Monthly Features
First Thoughts
Richmond Firsts
Faith in Action
Richmond Reads
The Time of My Life
Virginia's Kitchen
Your Health
Gardening
Travel

FiftyPlus Living
Retirement
Directory

Advertise

Time of My life   

The night of their first date, after he had picked her up at her dormitory, another beauRandy Fitzgerald unexpectedly showed up to ask her to a movie, but she was gone. The second swain told her later that he wasn’t feeling too bad about it until she and her new suitor sat directly in front of him in the theater.
That poor fellow didn’t have a prayer. The suitor who won out that evening and who eventually won the co-ed’s hand in marriage was Benjamin F. Hurt, and back in August at the Baptist church in Crozet, the Hurts—Ben and Maria—surrounded by some 200 friends, family members and former students, celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary.

Barb and I were there because we’re very sentimental about the Hurts. Mr. Hurt was the principal for 30 years of Albemarle High School in Charlottesville, from 1954 to 1984, the school from which we both graduated in 1959; Mrs. Hurt taught there for many years, too.

So what relevance does a long-retired high school principal from Charlottesville have for the rest of the state, all these years later? Ben Hurt is relevant because his methods, even today, would be a positive approach to education’s woes, wherever the school, whoever the students, whatever the era.

Are there problems in schools today far different from anything Ben Hurt ever saw during his many years in academe? Indeed there are, but the philosophy, character, wisdom, passion, training and conviction that he brought to education would still go a long way toward straightening out much of what we see and lament in our schools today.
Sharing that view is one of my Albemarle classmates, former Richmonder Goldie Tomlin, now a Wintergreen resident, who wroteBarb and me a note shortly after the Hurts’ anniversary gathering. “We’ve all shared in this man’s wonderful example of getting it right the first time,” he writes. “Ben Hurt is such an inspiration. I wish his standard could be the standard for all educators nationwide.”

Ben Hurt is one of my heroes, too. Back in the Sixties, when integration was about to take place at his school and all across Virginia, Mr. Hurt made a number of visits across town to what was then the black-only high school, talking with administrators, faculty and students there, speaking at their assembly, listening and learning what he and his school might expect, and sharing what might be useful to those who would soon become part of a new academic environment.

He also welcomed representatives from the black high school at Albemarle for a further exchange of information, putting together an assembly for them with his students. When integration came, he made sure the students from across town could assume positions of leadership in the Albemarle student body.
In an interview he gave in the 1980s, shortly after his retirement, he mentioned his pleasure when a black student was named co-valedictorian at the school a few years after the end of segregation, and what that accomplishment meant to the other newly integrated students at the school.

Hurt was ahead of the curve in many ways. In the same interview, he lamented those years when state and local policy decreed that pregnant students were summarily removed from school—an end to their education, he said regretfully, exactly at the time when they, about to be mothers, needed it most.

Those are big things, philosophical leanings ahead of his times. But they are not what Ben Hurt is best known for in Albemarle County.

Mr. Hurt is famous for always knowing the name of each student in his school—and not only the student’s name but in most cases the names of a student’s siblings and a good many things about each family. Whether he had 800 in the student body on any given year, or 1,500, or sometimes even more than 2,000, he knew their names only a few weeks into each new academic year. What a feat! Think of the hours of studying records and pictures that went into that, and imagine what it meant to the obscure adolescent whose principal recognized him in the hall.
Ben Hurt has been an outstanding principal, an exceptional man, and apparently an excellent husband. A 60th anniversary is pretty impressive, and the group who turned out to celebrate included a number of former students—students who may have quaked a bit in his presence in their school days but who now count themselves as friends. I saw 40 or so who dated back to my AHS years, and there were no doubt many others I didn’t recognize.
But I do not doubt that Ben Hurt, now 90 years old—who greeted me at the door with a firm handshake and a rousing “Randy!”—knew every one of them by name.

Randy Fitzgerald is chair of the English and journalism department at Virginia Union University. He is a former Richmond Times-Dispatch columnist and University of Richmond administrator. His blog is www.randyfitzgerald.blog.com.

ARCHIVES:

Janaury 2008February 08March 08April 08May 08June 08July 08

August 08September 08

September 07October 07November 07December 07

 

 

 

HOME  |  who we are  |  subscriptions  |  contact us  | RPM