[Theme music playing]
(Narrator) You're tra vel/ng through another dimension.
A dimension not onl y of sightand sound but of mind.
A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are tha t of ima Gina t/on.
Your next stop, the twilight zone.
We have talked of the work of Alfred Edward housman.
Born... what year, Mr. Graham?
What year, sir?
Precisely the question.
Sometime this century, I think.
Close, Mr. Graham. Closer than usual.
[Laughter]
Alfred Edward housman was born, Mr. Graham,
and for the benefit of the rest of the class,
was born in 1859.
His death occurred, what year, Mr. Butler?
Uh... around 1900, sir.
Upon my soul, young Mr. Butler,
you and Mr. Graham are kindred spirits.
You are masters of inexactness.
Alfred Edward housman died in 1936.
All of you will recall, I'm quite sure,
a shropsh/re lad.
A little of which I'm now going to read to you.
"When I was one and twenty,
"I heard a wise man say,
"'give crowns and pounds and guineas
"'but not your heart away.
"'Give pearls away and rubies
"but keep your fancy free.'
"but I was one and twenty
"no use to talk to me.
"The heart out of the bosom
"was never given in vain.
"'T/s paid with sighs aplenty
"and sold for endless rue.
"And I am two and twenty
"and, oh, 'tis true,
'tis true."
This being the last afternoon of the semester
and three days before the Christmas holidays, I think it behooves me
to show at least a minute degree of compassion
and, uh, let you out early.
I might add that whilst your final examination papers
are not yet ready to be returned to you,
you have all, amazingly enough, passed.
Oh, boy.
Yes. My delight is only exceeded by my sense of shock.
It is rare, young men, that in 51 years of teaching
I have ever encountered such a class
of dunderheads.
But nice dunderheads,
and potentially fine young men who will make their marks
and leave their marks.
God bless you all and a merry Christmas.
(Na rrato r) Professor ell/s f0 wl er,
a gentle, book/sh guide to the young
who is about to discover tha t life still has certain surprises
and that the campus of the rock spring school for boys
lies in a direct path to another institution
commonly referred to as the twilight zone.
Oh, Charles, my warmest regards to your father.
Sir. Could you step inside a moment, please?
Why, yes, of course.
Sit down. Sit down.
Be comfortable.
Uh, am I keeping you?
Oh, no. No, no, no. It's...
There's a broadcast of handel's mess/ah on the radio at 5:00,
and I'd very much like to hear it.
That's a very lovely thing that, uh...
Very, uh, yule-like.
Yes, yes. Well, this won't take long.
Professor, you did not respond to the letter
the trustees sent you last week.
Letter? Uh... oh. I'm terribly sorry, headmaster.
I've just remembered.
I haven't opened my mail for the last few weeks.
Well, you know, I've been so busy. Prepara tion for the holida ys
and re-grading, final exam/na tions and tha t sort of thing.
Though very I'm certain I know the contents of that particular letter.
And, uh, your reaction?
Oh, well, naturally, I'll go along.
Well, that's very perspicacious of you, professor.
I shall tell the trustees that you've read their communication
and that you agree with it. Now, as to your replacement...
I was telling my housekeeper only the other day,
I shall very likely go on teaching in this place until I'm 100 years old.
Two years ago I actually taught the grandson
of one of my former pupils. The grandson, Mark you.
On my word, I think it's not beyond the bounds of possibility
that I shall live to teach a great grandson one of these days.
It was the Reynolds boy. You know him. His father was Damon Reynolds,
and his grandfather, uh, oh, dear.
Regular rascal of a boy. Would persist in calling me "weird beard."
Didn't know I knew he was calling me that.
Professor Fowler, I think it best
you read that communication the trustees sent.
Oh, yes. Yes, I will. Oh, indeed, I will, Mr. Headmaster.
Though it's an odd formality, isn't it?
This contract signing year after year.
You can tell the trustees from me that old Fowler won't desert the ship.
No, sir. He'll stay at the wheel through fair weather and foul.
Watch the crews come aboard and then depart.
Professor. Professor Fowler, please hear me out.
Hm?
The communication from the trustees was not a contract.
As a matter of fact, it was a notice of termination.
You've been on the facul Ty for more than 50 years.
You reached the normal retirementage several years ago.
We decided at our winter meeting that perhaps a younger man...
If you could have been at that meeting, sir,
you would have been very proud of the things said about you and your work.
A teacher of incalculable value to all of us, but youth must be served.
Changing of the guard. That sort of thing.
Am I to understand, uh,
Mr. Headmaster, that i-i...
My contract is not to be renewed?
I'm... discharged?
Discharged? Oh, no, professor, please don't call it that.
It's retirement and at half salary for the rest of your life.
Rest of my...
Well,
it certainl y pro ves one thing. On my word it does.
Proves that a man should read his mail.
[Laughing] Yes.
Certainly should
read his mail.
Merr y Chris tma s, professor.
Have a happy holiday, sir.
Mr. Mctavish, Mr. Haliday,
have a very merry Christmas.
Don't eat too much, uh, Turkey.
You're fine young men, both of you.
Merry Christmas.
[Chuckles]
Have a merry Christmas.
What's the matter with old weird beard?
He was crying.
Did you notice that?
He was crying.
[Music playing on radio]
Would you care for some more tea, sir?
No, thank you.
Dinner will be ready in a half hour.
Why don't you take a little nap?
I know I'm being very difficult,
but do you think we might put off dinner for tonight?
I haven't much of an appetite.
But, professor, you've got to eat something.
Perhaps later.
I could keep it warm for you.
Why don't you takea little nap?
Timothy Arnold. I never thought that one would pass.
Had an incorrigible habit of chewing bubble gum and then popping it.
Sounded like a howitzer.
I must sa y, it sounded exactl y likea howitzer.
William hood. Little bill hood.
Smallest boy ever to play varsity football here.
Had a penchant for shelley.
Artie beechcroft.
Now, there was a lad. There was a staunch lad.
Full of heart, that one.
Now, was he the one that...
Oh, yes, I remember now.
His father wrote me a letter. He was killed at iwo jima.
Freckle-faced little fellow. He had a most infectious grin.
Never stopped grinning.
Minute he walked into the classroom he just had to smile.
They all come and go like ghosts.
Faces, names, smiles.
Funny things they said or sad things,
or the poignant ones.
I gave them nothing.
I gave them nothing at all.
Poetry that left their minds the minute they themselves left.
Aged slogans that were out of date when I taught them.
Quotations dear to me that were meaningless to them.
I was a failure, Mrs. Landers,
an abjec t, miserable fail ure.
I walked from class to class,
an old relic teaching by rote to unhearing ears,
unwilling heads,
as an abject, dismal failure.
I moved nobody.
I motivated nobody.
I left no imprint on anybody.
Now, where do you suppose I ever got the idea
that I was accomplishing anything?
Think I'll take that nap now.
And I apologize
for putting off our dinner like this.
[Sighs]
He's taken...
Professor!
Professor. Professor Fowler?
Professor Fowler?
Well, Mr. Mann,
I wonder if you ever had any self-doubts.
I guess not.
"Be ashamed to die
"until you have won
some victory for humanity."
I have won no victory,
and now I am ashamed to die.
[Be/I chiming]
Class bells.
Well, that's odd.
Why would they ring now?
There's no special assembly now.
There's nothing of the sort.
[Chiming continues]
[Chiming stops]
[Whispers] What?
Boys.
Uh, forgive me, boys,
but I don't, uh, understand.
What I mean to say, I...
I don't recollect, uh...
Artie beechcroft, sir. Second form, class of '41.
How are you, professor?
H-How's that?
How's that again?
You say you're Artie beechcroft.
Why, so you are.
I'd recognize you anywhere.
I'm delighted to see you, Artie.
I really am delighted to see you.
I've missed you, Artie.
But, um,
forgive me, but, uh, what are you doing here?
You shouldn't be here.
Artie, you-you were...
I was killed at iwo jima, sir. That's right, professor.
I wanted to show you this, professor.
It's the congressional medal of honor.
It was awarded to me, posthumously.
Very prideful thing, Mr. Beechcroft.
Very prideful thing.
And I am indeed proud of you.
You were always a fine young man.
Fine young man.
I don't understand.
Professor?
Sir.
I'm bartlett.
Third form. Class of '28.
I died in roanoake, Virginia, sir.
I was conducting research on X-ray treatment for cancer.
I was exposed to radioactivity and I contracted leukemia.
I remember.
I do remember now, bartlett.
That was an incredibly brave thing you did, bartlett.
I kept remembering, professor, something youtold me.
A quote, a poet named Walter.
Howard Arnold Walter. I remember.
He said,
"I would be true, for there are those who trust me.
"I would be pure, for there are those who care.
"I would be strong
"for there is much to suffer.
"And I would be bra ve
for there is much to dare."
I never forgot that, professor.
That was something that you, you left me,
and I never forgot it.
Very decent of you,
bartlett, to say that.
That's why I brought this medal to show you, professor Fowler.
Because it's partly yours.
You taught me about courage.
You taught me what it meant.
How incredible.
Sir.
Weiss! Isn't it? Dick/e weiss.
[Sighs]
You were the first one.
The first one to die, professor.
I was at Pearl harbor on the Arizona. I was an ensign.
I remember, Dickie.
You saved a dozen men. Got them out of a boiler room after they were trapped.
Lost your own life doing it.
You were a t my elbow tha t da y, professor.
You ma y not ha ve known it, but you were there.
It was something you taught me. A poem by John donne.
"Any man's death diminishes me
"because I am involved in mankind.
"And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls.
It tolls for thee."
Thompson, sir. Second form, class of '39.
I died on new Guinea, but you taught me about patriotism.
Rice, sir. Third form, class of 1917.
I died of wounds at chateau Thierry.
You taught me about courage.
Hudson, sir. Second form, class of 1922.
You taught me about loyalty.
Whiting, sir. Fourth form, class of '51.
You taught me about ethics and honesty.
We have to go back now, professor.
But we wanted to let you know that we were grateful.
That we were forever grateful.
That each of us has in turn
carried with him something that you gave him.
We wanted to thank you, professor.
[Be/I chimes]
[Chiming stops]
[Carolers singing]
Yes, headmaster, he's home. He's all right.
Yes, he's just fine. Thank you.
[Singing continues]
Fl the world in solemn stillness lay fl
fl to hear the angels sing fl
a merry Christmas, professor. A merry Christmas to you.
Thank you very much, my boy. God bless you all, and a merry Christmas.
I've had time to think it over, Mrs. Landers, uh,
I really think I will retire.
I've taught all that I can teach,
and I wouldn't want the returns to diminish.
I do believe I may have left my Mark.
A few gauntlets of knowledge that I've thrown down
tha t ma y ha ve been picked up.
"Be ashamed to die until you have won
some victory for humanity."
Well, I didn't win the victories, Mrs. Landers,
but I helped others to win them, so, perhaps, in some small measure
they are victories I can share.
I've had a very good life, Mrs. Landers.
A very full life. A very rich life.
This particular changing of the guard,
I wouldn't have it any other way.
(Narrator) Professor ell/s f o wl er, tea Cher,
who discovered ra ther bela tedl y something of his own value.
A very small scholastic lesson
from the campus of the twilight zone.
[Eerie music]
(Male presenter) There's an economic ups wing coming.
How will itaffect you? To find out, write for your free booklet
promise of america, box 7979, New York, 79.
- - (male presenter) Rod serl/ng, crea Tor of the twilight zone,
- - (woman) Are you stuck? Stuck with a st/cky roll-on deodorant