When someone walks into your life, a story begins. Pay attention. Who knows where it will go or how it will end?
I was a transplanted Southerner trying to take root in California, married only six months when my new husband got his first job teaching and coaching at Monterey High.
It would take almost 10 years for him to move from basic math courses and lower-division sports to teaching physics and coaching varsity basketball. But he was never in a hurry, never in a rush to do anything, really, but his best. All that mattered, he said, was not the status of a job, but how well and how diligently he performed it. [Read more…]