![]() APRIL 20, 1999 - LITTLETON, COLO. In memory of a good person, teacher
By Kris Hudson
Even before this tragedy erupted, Columbine High School wasn't the same school I remember from the late 1980s. But by now, it's obvious William David Sanders was the same man.
As a 1990 graduate of Columbine, I have no trouble believing that Mr. Sanders saved students' lives on Tuesday before a killer's bullets eventually claimed his. Protecting those students was what any good human being would have done, and that's precisely what Mr. Sanders was.
Columbine has nearly doubled in both structural size and student headcount in the past decade. I haven't walked the halls in years, but I'm sure I'd have trouble recognizing the "Home of the Rebels" now.
Mr. Sanders, however, remained the same. He still loved coaching girls' sports, most likely because he had two daughters of his own. He still taught business, though news reports mistakenly identified him as a science teacher. And he still worked at Columbine, where he steadily left his discreet mark on thousands of lives since 1975.
"That's right, he taught business back then," my sister, an '86 CHS grad, gasped over the phone on Wednesday, her recognition and sadness gaining momentum with each word.
I, too, passed through Mr. Sanders' business class. As well, he was among the many coaches who guided the Rebel track team during my three years as a discus thrower. Since he coached runners then, I mostly knew him as a teacher.
Mr. Sanders was fair, but not a pushover. He was firm, but not harsh. When other teachers might blow their tops, he would keep a calm, even demeanor.
It's funny how one tiny occurrence can cement your memory of someone. For me, it was an innocent-looking real estate question on one of Mr. Sanders' tests. The question asked who could pay the discount points on a mortgage loan, the buyer or the seller?
I chose one option and discovered when the tests were returned that I had answered incorrectly. But Mr. Sanders gave the class a second chance, allowing us to answer the questions again and resubmit the tests. Ever the opportunist, I changed my answer to the other option, but it too came back marked incorrect.
The correct answer: Both.
Mr. Sanders' point: No one will guess his way through this class. If you want to pass, you'll study.
No doubt, that type of guidance, coupled with his caring nature, will be Mr. Sanders' calling cards in the memories of Columbine students, faculty and alumni.
"I think Dave ought to be remembered as a very caring coach and teacher," said Columbine algebra teacher Terry Havens, who coached Rebel runners with Sanders for more than 20 years. "I think he had a special knack to be sensitive to the different needs of kids. (It) was unique."
I learned of Mr. Sanders' death when I visited the memorial at Clement Park on Wednesday night. The scene was unreal. Students mourned and searched for answers. Thick, black cables leading to countless television cameras snaked through the same grass where a friend and I sat and thumbed through our senior yearbooks nine years ago. Mostly, though, there were sullen faces of all ages, all races, all backgrounds.
Columbine, the vanilla high school that symbolized much of suburban Colorado, will never be the same.
"I don't think they're going to open it up again," Chad Bontraeger, a 1990 graduate, said later. "And you feel like you're one of the 26 graduating classes that will ever come out of there. We're forever going to be associated with this horrible atrocity that went on."
And now we have one fewer good teacher, one fewer good human being, to help us remember the Columbine that was.
April 23, 1999 |
|