It’s been 30 years since I last saw or spoke with Douglas B. Tate, my brilliant chemistry teacher, recently sentenced to prison for sexual misconduct. I write not to defend the indefensible but, rather, the man I once knew — and on contention that “silence” of society may belie complacent sanctimony.
In 1984, I drew the caricature of Doug in mock wizard’s cap with alchemical symbols that emblazoned Highland High A.P. Chemistry club sweatshirts. Classmates and I wore them to exams for “luck” to Professor Ronald O. Ragsdale’s University of Utah lectures to demonstrate school spirt, and out of love for our teacher.