BUCK Rogers was our Mr. Chips. Our own Mark Thackeray from To Sir, With Love. Buck managed to achieve that exalted status which is all too often bestowed only upon fictional characters created by Hollywood.

It is daunting to deliver a tribute to a man who has received numerous testimonials dinners . . . all attended by vast numbers of people who recounted innumerable stories of this legendary man and teacher.

We all keep a cherished place in our hearts for teachers we admired. I think this is because, as children, we were powerless and unsophisticated and so much at the mercy of our teachers. When we found one who was genuine and giving, who respected us as individuals and wanted only to help us . . . well, that teacher stood out like an epic hero.

Buck Rogers never tried to be a hero. He was too wise for that. He was a modest, unassuming man blessed with tremendous knowledge and the sharpest of wits.

Buck was the first, it seemed to me, truly educated man that I had met . . . and I'm not referring here to "bookish" or "scholarly" learning. I'm referring, rather, to his unique ability to combine a cheeky but unwavering common sense with a classical education.

Buck studied Latin, Greek and Classical Hebrew at Cambridge . . . but he was a student of the world of everyday men and women. His simple, honest and ungilded view of the world was refreshing to all who came in contact with it.

Buck wasn't content with snap decisions or hastily formed opinions. He was a thinking man and, in forming his view of the world, he brought to bear his enormous knowledge of history, literature and the human heart.

He taught English with a relish, and loved wrestling a reluctant meaning from the lines of Shakespeare or Chaucer. But he loved most of all a free-for-all debate on the meaning of life and human happiness. In such debates, however, he always insisted on simple, concrete examples.

Buck's intellectuality was grounded in the everyday. His rich and varied imagination and life of the mind contrasted sharply with his austere and frugal life-style.

Buck liked simplicity above all. As a new, young teacher to Bermuda he purchased an old wooden snipe sailing boat ? a 16-foot clunker that was too heavy for racing. But he loved her and she was his "cruising yacht". During the long summer holidays he would pack a few possessions into a small knapsack and sail to Marshall's Island, where, with his hammock slung between two trees, he would receive numerous visits from students and while away a long Huck Finn summer!

Buck loved boats. Like most Bermudians, he especially loved "messing about in boats". As a young man he was a passionate supporter of the Hamilton Dinghy Club (later the Royal Hamilton Amateur Dinghy Club). He sailed in the HDC, the club's fitted dinghy (later replaced by Elizabeth), and was transformed by the experience of restoring the HDC with Bert Darrell at Bert's boat-slip in Warwick. Innumerable stories of "Life According to Bert", replete with sage remarks out of the mouth of Bert, featured in Buck's classroom for the rest of his teaching career.

Buck loved to watch the fitted dinghy races, and he remained an active supporter of the Royal Hamilton Dinghy Club his whole life long.

Buck was a multi-generational role model. He taught my father Jimmy at Saltus Grammar School in the 1930s and he taught me at Warwick Academy in the 1960s. Boys and girls of all dispositions liked and admired him.

But it was particularly with the boys that he had his following . . . and his followers spanned the full spectrum from book worms/goodie-goodies to the "bad boys" of the classroom. They couldn't help but admire Buck's unpretentious and "no-nonsense" approach. He had a toughness that belied his mild and scholarly manner. And he rode a motor cycle!

When I was at school Buck's physical toughness had assumed somewhat mythic proportions. No one was sure of the details but legend had it that there had been an incident or two of "rough-housing" (was it the time in the 1930's when boys tried to shave off Buck's substantial moustache?!) . . . rough-housing when the group of boys ending up very much the worse for wear and Buck was completely unscathed. He was, after all, the master in charge of boxing. He earned an even greater measure of respect from that day forward.

But Buck had a softer, gentler side which wasn't lost on any of us. He was a friend of the Kempes after his arrival on the island in 1936, and in 1948 he lived for a short while with my parents, Jimmy and Betty. He was godfather to my sister Jennifer and came to our house for Christmas Day breakfast for 40 years. My mother and father would marvel at the diligence of this young bachelor who came bearing a child's china tea set or toy sewing machine for a small girl.

On the day of his stroke, Buck was still at it ? having just delivered Christmas presents to Jennifer and her family.

Buck loved to tell the story of how he once received an airmail letter with only two words written on the envelope: BUCK . . . BERMUDA. While acknowledging that this took place long ago in a simpler, more intimate Bermuda, it is still a remarkable occurrence and is a measure of his reputation at that time.

Everyone admired Buck's fierce independence, a quality he carried to the very end: long hair, leather jacket and riding his beloved motor cycle at age 90. And thereafter, up until a month ago, at the age of 96, when his good and loyal friend Francis Stevens couldn't take him, Buck would take the bus on his own to the grocery store . . . he would walk from his house over to South Shore, take the bus west to Barnes Corner at the junction of South Shore and Middle Road, get off the bus, and get on the Middle Road bus running east to White's Grocery.

After shopping he would retrace that route. Discovering Buck waiting at the bus stop at White's Grocery one day my parents offered him a ride home which he accepted. "Let me take that for you", my father said. He took the well-worn knapsack from Buck and almost fell over. It was full of canned goods!

Buck's teaching style was low-key. He taught by calling upon a treasure trove of witticisms that always seemed to come from the depths of a sensibility that had been forged over many years of careful and thoughtful contemplation, yet always varnished by a sparkling sense of humour. He was provocative. He would challenge us, our views... the logic and reasoning behind our passionately held beliefs. But always with a smile . . . and a rueful expression that said: "Come along now . . . you can do better than that."

He taught us to challenge ourselves.

Buck was a philosopher, a Socrates, sprinkling little aphorisms, moralisms, parables and pearls of wisdom among his flock whether we liked it or not.

Here are some that his students will remember:

"But of course, none of you read the newspaper. Especially you boys. If a newspaper appears by miracle in the hands of a boy, he turns immediately to the sports page!"

Another was:

"I am so glad I don't have any money. I don't lose any sleep at night over how it may depreciate. Of course, most of you will think of nothing else your whole lives through . . ."

You'll remember this one:

"I am conceited. I admit that. It is one of my few weaknesses."

And to pick just one more from Buck's inexhaustible store:

"I love to remind my self-important Government minister friends of the two Latin words 'minister' and 'magister': 'minister' means 'one of minimal social consequence' while 'magister', the word for 'schoolmaster' means 'great one'."

Buck Rogers was indeed magisterial, one of the "great ones". But most importantly, he was magisterial for all the right reasons.

4

I REFER to remarks made by Bishop Vernon Lambe in his capacity as chairman of the Bermuda Independence Commission, and reported in today's paper.

About half way down page 3, he refers to "an indigenous monarchy". I have taken these remarks out of context as I don't feel I can copy out the entire article.

All the same, I am puzzled by Bishop Lambe's phrasing. Just what is "an indigenous monarchy"? I assume the remarks are hypothetical, but would still be interested in which monarchy is being referred to ? ours, that of another country or an imaginary one?

A brief explanation would be of interest to this reader and possibly to many others.