The year was 1960. An army of towering brick buildings stood against a
backdrop of early morning sky as the sun rose, welcoming another opening
day at Welton Academy. The school was alive with the chorus of nearly one
hundred boys nervously whispering to each other in the hallways.
"I can't believe I have to take arithmetic again."
"How was your summer, Daddy-O?"
"Did you hear about the new English professor yet?"
The boys, dressed in their neatly pressed uniforms and with their hair parted and slicked down looked more like a group of businessmen than students, but their minds were anywhere but business. They were thinking about ritual acts of sitting still, being quiet, and listening to the headmaster speak for what felt like a lifetime. The opening ceremonies at Welton were custom, as was everything else it seemed. It was, as their mission statement proved, a school built on a strong foundation of tradition, honor, discipline and excellence. Inevitably, once all the banners were ready and the bagpiper had begun his song, the boys filed down the aisle of the chapel room towards another year at their alma mater.
On the altar at the front of the room stood Dr. Nolan, the school's headmaster. A small balding man with a face frozen in a scowl, Nolan wasn't a professor to be messed with, although he had been many times in the previous year. This year he vowed, however, that he wouldn't let another group of boys slip through his fingers and challenge the proven curriculum. He wouldn't let another student be murdered as a result of this. Nolan was comforted by the fact that he had already taken the steps to eliminating the problem. He had fired one professor and expelled another student, one Charles Dalton, the biggest troublemaker in the school.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Nolan began in welcome, "Boys . . . the light of knowledge." As they had done for one hundred years, the boys began passing a flame from one candle to another. Nolan sat back for a moment and watched as the flame traveled its course throughout the pews. However, the process hesitated in a row towards the back. Suddenly a fire had sprung up and the boys around it were jumping out of their seats and hurrying out the ends of the pews with shouts of surprise. Nolan straightened up and headed back to the podium. "What's going on?" He hollered. "Answer me, boy!" He could see one lone student holding up a large object which was immersed in flames . . . what was it? With a sinking feeling, Nolan recognized both the object and the culprit. A large biology textbook was on fire, and holding it was Mr. Charlie Dalton himself.
The boys, dressed in their neatly pressed uniforms and with their hair parted and slicked down looked more like a group of businessmen than students, but their minds were anywhere but business. They were thinking about ritual acts of sitting still, being quiet, and listening to the headmaster speak for what felt like a lifetime. The opening ceremonies at Welton were custom, as was everything else it seemed. It was, as their mission statement proved, a school built on a strong foundation of tradition, honor, discipline and excellence. Inevitably, once all the banners were ready and the bagpiper had begun his song, the boys filed down the aisle of the chapel room towards another year at their alma mater.
On the altar at the front of the room stood Dr. Nolan, the school's headmaster. A small balding man with a face frozen in a scowl, Nolan wasn't a professor to be messed with, although he had been many times in the previous year. This year he vowed, however, that he wouldn't let another group of boys slip through his fingers and challenge the proven curriculum. He wouldn't let another student be murdered as a result of this. Nolan was comforted by the fact that he had already taken the steps to eliminating the problem. He had fired one professor and expelled another student, one Charles Dalton, the biggest troublemaker in the school.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Nolan began in welcome, "Boys . . . the light of knowledge." As they had done for one hundred years, the boys began passing a flame from one candle to another. Nolan sat back for a moment and watched as the flame traveled its course throughout the pews. However, the process hesitated in a row towards the back. Suddenly a fire had sprung up and the boys around it were jumping out of their seats and hurrying out the ends of the pews with shouts of surprise. Nolan straightened up and headed back to the podium. "What's going on?" He hollered. "Answer me, boy!" He could see one lone student holding up a large object which was immersed in flames . . . what was it? With a sinking feeling, Nolan recognized both the object and the culprit. A large biology textbook was on fire, and holding it was Mr. Charlie Dalton himself.
