LETTERS: IN SPITE OF PANIC, YELL WAS GREAT

To the editor:

I was proud to have been asked by the school at which I teach to be our school's YELL coordinator. The money raised from selling YELL (Youth Education Literacy Learning) is used for promoting good causes, including giving teachers the opportunity to use the newspaper in the classroom.

I recruited a number of eager adult and student volunteers. I awoke early on YELL day, raring to go. I picked up the papers and sped (without breaking the law, of course) to our designated spot.

Things were a little slow at first. However, after the fog lifted and the traffic increased, sales picked up.

One of the adult volunteers apparently had previous experience at selling YELL. She helped show the rest of us the way, and we all improved our sales techniques. Sales started booming.

Unfortunately, no doubt due to her haste to help us get going, she inadvertently locked her car keys inside her car. By this time I was so busy I had little time to commiserate with her. Suddenly, we needed more papers.

I "ran" to my car, parked at a nearby convenience store. The papers were in the trunk. I hastily opened it. The trunk key (also the ignition key) broke off in the lock. Crisis time.

I didn't handle it well. In fact, I immediately began having what might be described as a major panic attack. Fortunately, other, calmer helpers had the presence of mind to scurry to a nearby spot and get some more papers.

Though the crisis was temporarily averted, I was still worried. How could I help the volunteer who had locked her keys in her car, collect the money raised, get everything turned in on time, secure another key for my car, scurry back to the convenience store to retrieve the car and hustle back to school at the previously designated time for returning?

Due to my helpful volunteers, some of whom drove hither and yon, I eventually got a new car key made and was driven back to the convenience store. There I was informed by a noticeably and rightfully irritated employee (after all, I hadn't bothered to ask permission to park there) that my automobile was 15 minutes from being towed.

"No problem," I thought to myself. "I've got my key, and I'm outta here."

"And that goes for that other car too," the employee said.

Oh! Oh! She was talking about the adult volunteer who had parked beside my car and whose keys were still locked in her car. She wouldn't be happy with the towing charge. Out of whose hide would she take it? Mine? After all, she probably thought I had sense enough to park in a previously approved, designated area and had, as a result, parked beside me when she arrived. She shouldn't be blamed for parking there. It was my fault.

Anyway, a minor stroke of luck occurred. With the clock counting down to towing time, I was able to reach the volunteer on the convenience store's pay telephone. After telling her what was up, I hurriedly handed the phone over to the convenience store employee, hoping the two would iron things out in a satisfactory manner. Then I skeedaddled back to school.

I got back to school with two minutes to spare. My job seems safe, for now.

Did the volunteer get her car towed? Dunno. Afraid to ask.

And, the ultimate question: If my teaching contract is renewed, will I again be asked to be our school's Southeast Missourian YELL coordinator? Because we have a patient, kind and tolerant administration and staff, possibly. Do I deserved to be asked? YELL no!

STEVE MOSLEY

Cape Girardeau