Prologue
May, 1985
A fire drill an hour before final bell and a bright spring afternoon had moved Principal Stone to a rare act of benevolence. From his roost at the summit of the concrete steps that led up to the rear entrance of Gustav Mahler High School, P.S. 114, the gangly figure in the gray tweed suit had whipped out his bullhorn (the student body concurred that the arch-disciplinarian’s obnoxious plaything was preferable to a wooden paddle or Louisville Slugger) and heralded. . .
Prologue
May, 1985
A fire drill an hour before final bell and a bright spring afternoon had moved Principal Stone to a rare act of benevolence. From his roost at the summit of the concrete steps that led up to the rear entrance of Gustav Mahler High School, P.S. 114, the gangly figure in the gray tweed suit had whipped out his bullhorn (the student body concurred that the arch-disciplinarian’s obnoxious plaything was preferable to a wooden paddle or Louisville Slugger) and heralded. . .