Mr. Witkowski's Legacy
An Industrial Arts Teacher Leaves His Mark
Today, I wanted to share (with his permission) a note that was sent to me by Day By Dayer and friend of ours, Jim Radmore. Jim, and his wife, Barb, volunteer at the Littleton Historical Museum and are involved in the hiking community up north, among other things.
A couple days ago, I wrote a story about my high school accounting teacher and my brief flirtation with a business career and how ultimately, those couple years actually have helped me in my current role as library director.
Jim grew up in the same area of Western NY as I did and he sent a story and some thoughts about his Industrial Arts teacher and the path that he eventually followed. He also sent the amazing picture below that looks like something straight out of The Godfather.
So, today, here’s Jim’s story. And tomorrow or Thursday, I want to pick up on this thread and talk about something that Jim’s story brought to my mind which is the power of what I would call a Role Model Ripple Effect. More on that then. For today, here’s Jim!
In 8th grade, I had an Industrial Arts teacher by the name of Mr. Witkowski. Mr. Witkowski was a shorter man, impeccably dressed with a thick Polish accent. In his storage room he had a full set of weights and if you caught him on a planning period, he’d be in his storage room, lifting weights and puffing on a big old stogie.
We mostly did metalworking with Mr. W but did do some printing - that was back in the dark ages of setting type. Once the type was set, all your work locking it up was done on a galley table and everything had to be slid. If you picked it up, your type went everywhere. At that point, Mr. Witowski, in his loudest voice, draped with his very thick Polish accent would yell for all to hear, even those in the hallway, “I’ve told you tousands (spelling intended) and tousands of times, don’t picked up the type.”
I wish I had been able to take more classes from him but it was one to a customer. In my 8th grade yearbook he penned “With your knowledge you would make a great IA teacher.” At the time I was going to be an engineer and later started to follow that course but also fitting in all the shop classes I could. I started the process to become a production engineer and perused acceptance at General Motors institute . At the last minute, I did an about face. I wasn’t sitting behind a desk all day, and went on to become an Industrial Arts teacher.
Talking with my father after I made the switch, he admitted wanting to become an Industrial Arts teacher (in his day, Manual Labor) and made a last minute switch to electrical engineering, but still loved to work in his machine shop in the basement. I spent many hours with him there. I would be remiss if I didn’t add in that after I was accepted at Oswego State, it turns out my grandmother and her brother both attended Oswego Normal School, later to become Oswego State. My great uncle was in their first graduating class of Manual Arts teachers. I have the desk he made for his sister, my grandmother, while enrolled there.
My only regret… My freshman year of college, I stopped back and saw Mr. W and told him my career aspiration, but our paths never crossed again. Many years later my father mailed me a copy of his obit. I wrote a letter to the family, but wish that at some point I could have met up with him, showed him what he wrote in my yearbook and said “You were right!”
Thirty-five years as an Industrial Arts/Tech Ed teacher, launched in the junior high shop due to that one man with the cigar, weight set and a thick accent.
~ Jim Radmore
I enjoyed this heartwarming story! Love the image of Mr. W puffing a stogie as he lifted weights.