Ron Zurner

            “Everything happens for a reason.” I’ve always believed that however you look at this popular quote it will always equate to complete and utter bullshit. Throughout my lifetime I have seen and heard about so many horrible tragedies and crimes occurring to the most innocent of victims. When a tragedy like this occurs, I often reflect on that old adage and ask myself the same question. If everything happens for a reason, what logical reasoning could ever possibly validate this type of nonsense? The answer is quite simple, none. It is my belief that god is not responsible for every single thing that happens. But, he is certainly responsible for most. As always, the proof will always reside in the pudding. 

    I believe that my relationship with Ron Zurner, and the circumstances that lead me to meet him, all did happen for a reason in deed. And I believe that the reason was the work of god himself.

            I got expelled from high school a few months before graduation for horsing around in class. The events that led to it are another story entirely. I will of course get to that part eventually, for it is a fascinating tale in itself. Basically, I was made an example out of for being a class clown. I was guilty of the crime but the severity of the punishment was far too harsh. 

    One day we had a substitute teacher and I was trying to show off. And so I threw a little ball of tape near the substitute teachers feet when he had his back turned. I did this so that he would see it land and then look towards me and my friends and I would pretend to be working. However — by some miracle that tape hung in the air and hit him in the back of the head. (Oops!) He immediately turned around and came and yelled at me. I played stupid and denied it and so he blamed the kid next to me who also denied it. The remaining 30 minutes of the class went on free as normal. That was the end of the story — or so I thought. 

    The next day our normal teacher was back and I happened to see him first thing in the morning. He asked me what I did to the substitute teacher the day before and I had no idea what he was talking about — I had almost forgotten about it completely. Later on that day I was sent home and suspended indefinitely. This suspension lasted a month before I had a superintendent meeting where I would be expelled. I couldn’t believe it and I was very pissed off. 

            As part of being expelled I was not allowed to attend graduation, prom, or any school related activities for a calendar year. In exchange the school district would home-school me for the final 3 months so I could still graduate on time, as long as I completed the required coursework. For that I was grateful, even though they had devastated my life beyond repair, I do appreciate the fact that they were willing to do this. And the only reason I am so grateful for this is because of one of the home school teachers I met.

            By the time my home schooling had begun I was already way behind on my class work due to the fact that the school district had drawn out my expulsion for so long. But that wasn’t the biggest challenge; the largest problem was the fact that I didn’t give a flying fuck about school anymore. After what they had done to me I was upset, and I resented them. I had gotten a job frying food at Long John Silvers, and because I had already been out of school for over a month I was working full-time. One teacher would come by each day Monday through Friday to “teach” me my five classes.

    I would leave work at 3pm to meet them at my house, they would drop off school work, and then I would go back to Long Johns. The first 4 teacher who came Monday-Thursday only stayed for about 5-10 minutes, and when they would leave. I didn’t touch any of the coursework, and it began to pile up. On my first Friday of home-schooling I was at home waiting for the teacher to arrive. I had no idea who would show up since only one of my “normal” teachers had been sent the previous 4 days.

            I heard a car outside traveling down my tiny dead end street and it was a clunker. I believe it was a rusty, old, light-blue ford Fiesta, but I could be wrong. This was quite a long time ago now, almost 23 years. What I am certain is that it was small and junky. It was effectively very small for the man who stepped out of it. He was a large man, not fat but well built. He had snow white hair and wore a really nice suit. He had to be in his mid-fifties at least, but it was just a guess. I remember thinking that this guy does not belong in that car, for whatever reason. He was certainly too big for it, and far too distinguished looking for a clunker. My first impression of Ron Zurner was not a pleasant one. It was like; “here comes another know-it-all who is going to look down on me for getting expelled.”

            Now, my house could certainly be considered as raggedy, for several reasons. It was very old, over a hundred years old and not well kept-up at all. It sat nestled near the bottom of a dead end street right next to the railroad tracks in a poor neighborhood. The inside smelled like pure cigarette smoke since my parents had always smoked indoors, and often. My mother was not a neat freak either, but she did what she could. Anyways, I think it may have had something to do with the other teachers only staying for a few minutes. But when Ron entered my house for the first time he didn’t seem bothered by any of that.

            Ron was the teacher they had sent to help me with English class. English was the only challenging class I was taking at the time, it was an honors class. I had gotten all the tough math and science classes out of the way earlier in my high school career. I did that because I wanted to have an easy senior year, and be able to enjoy it. School work was never very difficult for me, but I never applied myself either. I’m sure if I tried hard I could have gotten good grades, but I really didn’t care. My family didn’t have any money for college anyways, so a passing grade was always good enough for me.

            Like I said, all the other teachers who had come throughout the week had only stayed at for about 5-10 minutes. It only took me about that long to realize that Ron was not anything like the other teachers. In fact, he was not like any teacher I had ever met. Ron was going to make sure that I actually did the work, all of the work. After working on English, we turned our attention to all the other class work I had. Ron stayed at my house for about 3 hours on his first visit. I had to call work and tell them that I wouldn’t be back in that day. Ron wasn’t just there for a paycheck; he was there because he enjoyed helping kids succeed. He said; “You are so close to graduating, let’s get this done!” Even though I was extremely pissed off at the school district and didn’t care anymore, he made me care. The fact that he became so involved made me want to succeed. Everything about him was completely genuine, and I loved that about him.

            He began to come help me on other days besides just on Fridays when he was paid to be there. Ron opened up to me about his life. He told me about how his wife had passed away when his children were still young. And he went into depth about all the challenges he had to deal with being a single father. We talked quite a bit about basketball also. Ron had coached for many years, and how one of his former players was coaching basketball at BCC. We talked about my situation and how I had ended up in my predicament. He never once judged me, talked down to me, or treated me like a child. That is what made me open up after I had been treated so poorly by authority. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I would have never graduated on time if it wasn’t for him.