It’s back-to-school season, which always brings back fond (and sometimes not-so-fond) memories of school days long past.

Recently, I was remembering some of my high school teachers and the impact they had on me.

Sharon Babb is the reason I am a journalist today. It was she that recognized I had an aptitude for the field and made me the editor of the Eagle’s Cry, the student newspaper, part way through my sophomore year. I served in position the rest of that year and during my junior year before being co-editor as a senior with Robin Reichelderfer, who was brilliant.

Babb taught journalism and English at Broomfield High School for 38 years. She passed in 2020.

She always gave me the latitude to do my job as the editor. My junior year, my editorial staff had four cheerleaders on it and they were fond of clip art. Once they were done laying the paper out, it was filled with cute little pictures that, to me, didn’t belong in a newspaper.

I was the one who took the layout sheets to the printer, though, so me and the Dans (my brother and my friend, Dan Dolan), went in and removed the clip art, tightened the print, and added photos or other content that was, to me, more relevant. When the cheerleaders complained, Babb would say, “talk to Doug, he’s the editor.” After a couple of issues, the others got on board with what I was trying to do and we had a great working relationship.

Another longtime Broomfield teacher was Robert Keefer, who taught U.S. and World History, and Geography there for 30 years. He and UCCS Professor Rick Wunderli were the main causes that my college degree is in history.

Keefer spoke in a monotone, which bored some students to tears. But he was skilled at cadence, which overcame the lack of variance in pitch. He would also tie the cause and effect, which made history come alive for me. After discussing a proposal, bill or tactic, he would pause, which was followed by “and it worked.”

Keefer retired from teaching in 1989 and passed away in 2024.

In my senior year, I had an unusual schedule where I would have classes from first through fourth period, followed by a long break before having a class in eighth period. That was because that final class was taught by Keefer, and I didn’t want to miss it.

My odd schedule caused problems for Dolan. He and I would go to my house for fifth period, which he also had off, to play rod hockey. Dolan had classes in sixth and seventh period, though, and too often would miss them because our competition had become so heated.

I always thought Gordon Purslow was too cool to be a teacher. He was a magnificent trumpet player and had performed professionally, so he carried himself with that musician vibe. Everybody loved him.

Although I didn’t need any additional elective credits, I stayed in Broomfield’s bands throughout my high school days and even into college. While we performed at all of our home football games, everybody’s favorite trip each year was marching in the homecoming parade at Colorado School of Mines, which is in Golden – the home of Coors beer. We would always play the Budweiser song, which drew cheers from Mines students along the route.

A longtime teacher, Purslow spent the final 20 years of his career at Broomfield. He passed in 2020.

If you haven’t thought about your teachers for a while, I encourage you to do so for a moment. You’ll be astonished at the impact they had in your life. And to the underpaid, underappreciated and overwhelmed teachers out there – keep it up. Those kids may not know it now, but they’ll never forget you.