Not Much Language Was Learned That Day

During the late 1920s and early ‘30s, I attended Lewis and Clark High School, where my Spanish teacher, Senor Ferrer, was a favorite among students.

He not only taught Spanish, he would tell us about his native Cuba - the customs, the climate and the strange wild animals, including poisonous bugs and snakes.

Once he told us he wasn’t afraid of these scary things and could even play with them. Some of us figured he was just bragging, knowing our cold climate would insulate him from any chance of our calling his bluff.

I told a buddy, Pat, that we sure would like something creepy, crawly and poisonous to put Senor Ferrer to the test. Pat said no problem.

In those times, Washington Water Power Co. had a substation at 29th and High Drive, and Pat’s father was a supervisor there. Pat knew that deep inside that brick building lived a small colony of scorpions.

Pat pushed one into a jelly jar, which he gave to me the next day at school. A classmate made sure Senor Ferrer didn’t enter the room too soon, and I put the jar on the teacher’s desk.

Senor Ferrer greeted us with his usual “buenos dias,” which we echoed. At his desk he picked up the jar, took a long look at its contents and then another at the students. He smiled but asked no questions.

Without hesitating, he took off his coat and tie and unfastened the top two or three buttons of his shirt. Then he unscrewed the lid and upended the jar on an ink blotter.

The scorpion waved its claws and its curled tail seemed to vibrate. The students moved forward to see.

Senor Ferrer maneuvered the scorpion until its tail protruded from under the jar. As we held our breath, he tapped his left thumbnail against the point of the stinger. A couple of taps produced a squirt of poison. Senor Ferrer wiped his thumbnail clean, then grabbed the scorpion and held it up, giving us all a good view.

Next he placed it on his left wrist, which caused some gasping, mostly from girls. The scorpion headed right up Senor Ferrer’s shirt sleeve, making a small, moving bump as it went. When it got to the top, Senor Ferrer reached into his shirt and retrieved it.

“It will be harmless for about an hour,” he said, returning it to the jar.

We clapped, whistled and cheered. We didn’t learn much Spanish that day, but we learned a lot about scorpions. And Senor Ferrer’s high approval rating went through the roof.