Postcard 11

Those of you who are “of a certain age” and attended Churchill County High School will remember English teacher Anne Gibbs Berlin.

When I think of my high school classes, my mind almost immediately turns to the unforgettable image of “Mrs. Berlin.” When I took her classes, she was well into her fifties, but I can still hear her youthful laughter, bubbling up like fresh water from a desert spring. And laugh, she did.  Pep rallies and skits orchestrated by her students made her laugh.  Student pranks, at least the minor ones, made her laugh.  Memories of former students made her laugh because she chose to remember the positive in all of them.

Once, she told our class that she had just received a late-night phone call from a former student who was attending UNR as a freshman.  “Hey, Mrs. B, me and Jim has just graduated from bonehead English.” That made her laugh. I’m not sure we knew what was so funny.

Spelling tests were her specialty.  She had, over her years of teaching, developed a series of sentences to illustrate a word that we were then supposed to spell.  Correctly, of course.  The sentence was a clue to the spelling, but it had a way of embedding itself in our brains so that over the years, it became impossible to misspell, for example, “accommodate” because her voice whispered, “The Carson City Modern Motel will accommodate you.” Or “benefit” because the same voice proclaimed, “Mr. Ben. E. Fit collected his benefit check.”  Or my favorite, “separate,” because the same voice asked, “Does Pa rate a separate car?

We had to turn in a book report once every two weeks.  She gave us a list of books to read, most of them classics, although she was flexible and encouraged her more reluctant readers to pick up books that were less lofty. Once, I asked her whether I could submit my book report on a rather purple novel that I had been reading, secretly, of course, titled “Forever Amber.”  It was an early version of a Harlequin Romance and was not on her list and never would be. She was not a prude but was obligated to uphold the honor of CCHS. Her laugh bubbled up, and she said, “Oh, dear, the book report is supposed to address what lessons you have learned from reading the book.  And, in this case, I don’t want to hear your answer. So, please read instead Dickens’ fine novel ‘A Tale of Two Cities.’” Then. she added, “And don’t dwell on what Amber did.”  

Anne was a product of Churchill County, her grandparents having homesteaded an 80-acre parcel on Union Lane in 1907. She grew up there, appreciating what she called “isolation.” But a creative isolation it was, filled with reading, writing, and gardening. She attended the Union Schoolhouse before graduating CCHS and going on to the University of Nevada. She lost her dear brother, Jim Gibbs, in World War II.  She was married in mid-life to her beloved John Berlin. Over the years, she watched the high school adjust to long hair, short skirts, pot-smoking kids, and drug-sniffing dogs. She maintained her scholarly approach to her subject and her loving approach to life, a life that she enjoyed in the same house on Union Lane.

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