He was a fantastic teacher. Other than his computers classes, he really only taught courses to the college-bound seniors. And I had him for three of my six periods my senior year.
He was a mellow dude and rolled with so much of the stuff we threw at him. Typically he'd show up for the physics class a few minutes late (as he had to switch from his normal computers room to a different wing in our high school). One time by the time he got there, we had moved the desks and the portable blackboard to the lawn just outside the class room. He let himself out the external door to the biology room and taught that day's lecture as if nothing were different.
We had a fire drill early in the school year and the next day's recap over the loudspeakers (occurring during our physics class) mistakenly stated during future fire drills we should all move 300 yards away from the building. The next fire drill happened during physics, and true to our previous discussion we all met up at the McDonalds on the other side of the football field. 300 yards is 300 yards, after all.
We "broke into" the school one weekend (Tim's mom was our English teacher, and he surreptitiously pilfered her set of keys) and filled the floor of the computer room up 3' high with balloons. He loved it. Well, he loved it until the first period's class, in their stompy efforts to clean up the mess, came across a few of the water balloons we had left behind. He chewed us out for that. Water + Apple ][ computers was a no-no. Mea culpa.
For a physics midterm all his test problems involved things happening to doughnuts (probably the lessons involving projectile motion or something). The next lecture, coordinate on the cue of his chalk touching the chalkboard, we pelted him with doughnut holes. He roared with delight. (There were a lot of greasy 1.5" circles on the blackboard for the rest of that week, which I'm sure confused other teachers using that room.)
The summer after graduation the core of this class (about a dozen of us) snuck out to his farm and recreated the Monte Python scene with the chanting monks slapping themselves in the face (we used calculus books). He had to do some explaining to his wife, but he got a big kick out of it.
He was a big one for "when the work's done, your time is yours." The bakery runs this attitude enabled is probably the genesis for the doughnut-themed mid-term. He basically gave a bunch of high school seniors the sort of leeway most of us wouldn't normally see until college a year early, and for the most part we didn't take advantage of his flexibility and trust.
Thanks
KB (Oh, whoops. K-college, not Calvin. My bad.)