The McCollumn - 6/22: "The Publishing Room's Pencil Sharpener"

Perhaps its more than a bit silly to become sentimental over something so trivial as a pencil sharpener, but allow me an eccentricity this week.

Wednesday afternoon, Observer photographer Billy Jackson stopped by with what he deemed a “birthday present” for me from his recent trip out to Opelika high school - a high school stripped and ready to go for its soon-to-commence dismantling.

Jackson handed me a worn-looking pencil sharpener, saying he thought I might like to have it.

As I looked it over he added -

“It’s from the Publishing Room.”

Ah. Well, that certainly matters.

For those of us lucky enough to be selected for Dr. Hannah’s two-year Desktop Publishing class at Opelika High School, the Publishing Room was a great deal more than just a computer lab nestled deep in the bowels of the 6th Hall.

It introduced us to the worlds of Quark and Photoshop, letting us manipulate photos and build documents, with the eventual goal being design skills that would allow us to later be self-reliant when designing the high school’s student-created literary magazine and newspaper.

Two ancient printers, Bernice and Neil Diamond, would occasionally wheeze out the requested documents, with only the rarest of complete scream-inducing meltdowns.

It was the home of the magical radio and CD player, where you were exposed to the musical interests of your fellow classmates (unless they wanted showtunes before 9 a.m.; there are some things Dr. Hannah won’t stand for, apparently).

You slowly got used to the strange and august figure that is Dr. Charlie Hannah, the feared Senior English Teacher and Keeper of the Hannah Paper - and realize he’s really just Dr. Hannah, the sort of guy who’d sooner sit on the floor than in a chair, in case someone else wanted it.

For so many of us, that room was the start for careers we never knew we would pursue.

Without Publishing, I never would have taken a shot at The Auburn Plainsman, and, therefore, never would have made it here. (So, if you hate this rubbish column, yes, you can blame Charles Hannah).

I’m delighted to get to hold on to this small piece of what was one of the best parts of the Opelika High School I knew and loved.

While so many things about our beloved alma mater may soon begin to change, I hope we will never lose the attentive, dedicated and life-changing teachers like Dr. Hannah, who make these classrooms not just a place for imparting state-sanctioned knowledge, but for making lasting memories and creating exceptional experiences.