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In a classroom somewhere in Lancaster County, a guest speaker fascinates 10 high school students. They have no choice.
Mr. Ephraim L’Ingles towered over their couches, looking serious. Also, to attend an institution that carefully trains students in etiquette, children must show respect, if not a little bit of interest.
The upper-level course is set to read through Don Quixote, the seminal Spanish novel about a ranger knight enduring grand farce delusions. The teacher mentioned at the beginning of the unit that he would invite one of his city friends, a serious and eccentric man, to join them one day.
“Mr. L’Ingles is what you call ‘quixotic’. He has a big vision for Lancaster and meeting and interacting with him will be very educational for you.”
L’Ingles was due to arrive in early April, about three-quarters of the way through the book. As with variables that sometimes occur outside the classroom, teachers find themselves stuck. The school administrator knocked on the door and called him into the hallway. He came back to tell the class about his plight:
“Guys, I know it’s unexpected and a little weird, but remember that guest I told you about? Well, he was supposed to be here tomorrow, but I think he made a mistake and, besides, he’s at the front desk now. I Should I let him come back on Friday as planned, or should I just invite him in?”
Of course, these men and women are sure to say, “Today is great!” Spring students are never bothered by interruptions in class time.
Mr. L’Ingles, 6 feet tall with bleached blond hair and designer glasses, walked in with a slight limp, smiling approvingly at the circle. The students were shocked into incredible silence.
“Students, this is the friend I told you about, Mr. L’Ingles. Let’s say hi. Let each of you tell him how your name is, and we’ll hear from him.”
Then the teacher gave the program to Don Quixote’s stand-in.
First, a little background on Mr. L’Ingles’ big errand: The Veterans Memorial Bridge spans the great Susquehanna River from Columbia to Wrightsville on the historic Lincoln Highway (US Route 30). Built in 1928, this elegant building in Art Deco style is a source of great pride for the locals. It connects Lancaster and York County, and its location is known as the City of Red and White Roses, referring to the British monarchy houses that fought each other in the Wars of the Roses. There are sometimes interesting rivalries between regions, but other than a few baseball games, it’s not a big deal.
Mr. L’Ingles started his presentation with a homemade Photoshop slideshow:
“York County and Lancaster County have suffered from constant violence and unnecessary competition over the years. Dear student, you must have heard of The War of the Roses. My vision is to bring The Peace of The Roses (hold “ss” for a full second).” He repeated, “Peace of the Roses.”
Clearly, a beautiful arch bridge is not enough to cure the ills of our region. Ephraim claims that God gave him a vision to fulfill his quest: to build a monument among the statues of Susquehanna: an Amish rising 60 feet from the water, facing each county. His Photoshop mockup shows how the person who summons reconciliation has one body and two faces.
The unprepared students drooped their chins, some widened their eyes, and some looked away. One girl winced cynically. Meanwhile, a teacher recorded this particular class with a flip camera. He laughed violently, and the other instructor leaned against his desk, arms clasped, gasping for breath.
Ephraim, with a distinct accent, a strange alchemy of Korean and Russian, went on to reveal that he was raised by Korean Mennonite missionaries stationed in the East African country of Djibouti. He pointed to a slide showing an auditorium full of these people. His speech was so pathetic that it seemed plausible (and vice versa).
The cynical girl on the couch whispered to her seatmate, “This is stupid.” Her excitement prompted her friend to silently stare at her and rebuke her. Another young lady, no compromise, volunteered: “Mr L’Ingles, are you trying to get support for this project? If so, how much?”
“Thank you, miss. My wife, Bonnie, and I feel like we have to raise $6 million to cover planning and construction costs.”
The teacher cautiously said, “How much money have you raised now?”
“Six thousand three hundred and eighty-two dollars.” The quixotic part was now complete, and the tension in the room was almost at its peak.
The patient teacher earnestly pointed out that the Amish in the river did look in both directions, but he also seemed to have an anatomical anomaly. To this, Ephraim agreed: “Yes, we know he has only one butt. Two faces, one butt.”
Twenty minutes of embarrassing ordeal had passed. The teacher and the class are on the verge of crying or hysteria keeping their composure…hardly.
Suddenly, the teacher jumped up from the couch and announced, “Classmate, this is my friend Dave! Happy April Fool’s Day!” Dave Seyfried is now relieved from his role with a face Filled with grins of joy, the coach clapped his hands in a circle as the class erupted in laughter.
All their pent-up tension, confusion, and sympathy melted to the floor like snow that suddenly melted in April. The “uninvited” tactics distracted them from the fact that it was April 1.
That year was 2008. I was a teacher that day, and thanks to my friend Dave, a true Lancaster town figure, the prank remains legendary in the memory of the few who saw it.
I later learned from a teacher that when Dave came to school as Ephraim L’Ingles, he introduced himself at the front desk and was totally personable when talking to the staff. I don’t doubt it.
Tom Becker captures slices of life around Lancaster County, and sometimes beyond; he also regularly tombecker.substack.com. He founded Row House Inc. in 2010 as a forum for “merging current culture with ancient beliefs.” He tells this story in his book Good Posture (Square Halo Books: Baltimore, 2017). Becky and Tom, who have five grown children and live in Lancaster’s West End, can be seen walking the dog street or riding the gravel bike Frodo every day.
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