Ralph Shelby Webb

I remember Shelby Webb. I met him first in 1950 when I was eight years old. He was my fourth-grade teacher. Things I remember about him were his kindness, patience, and desire to teach. But I still remember what a laugh we all had when he told a few of us kids about chasing down a sort of ne’er-do-well boy who had sneaked away from school. Mr. Webb related running after this fleet-footed miscreant up, over, and down bunches of coal cars, through culverts, through fields of weeds, and through somebody’s hog lot. What an image! Our dignified teacher, dirty, sweaty, and out of breath as he chased a modern day Huck Finn…

He gave me a kit to make an electromagnetic motor that ran on the power of a battery. I had no idea of how to do it, but followed the kit’s directions. Never mind that it didn’t work well. Mr. Webb believed in me.

I remember him in high school, when as a physics teacher he told us a story of how some pigs near Oak Ridge, Tennessee had eaten some radioactive material and had lived to oink about it. “You just can’t kill a swine!” said Mr. Webb mischievously.

I remember how he used to say, “oral” instead of “oil.” And I definitely remember the barely stifled giggles when he would point to something on the chalk board with his middle finger. I truly believe he had no idea of what it was that we found so funny!

I also remember how he never truly lost his temper, even when really provoked. He was showing us how magnets worked, using iron filings on top of a plastic sheet, drawing a magnet under the sheet to make the iron filings line up and follow the magnet’s pull. He got a call from the main office to come there right away. Before leaving, he admonished us, “Now don’t fool with that stuff while I’m gone. If you get those filings on the magnet, it’s ruined. We could never get them off.” He left. A certain principal’s son, who believed that rules never applied to him, got right up and seized the magnet and the sheet with the filings on top. His second act was to drag the filings right off onto the magnet. We other kids gulped hard, believing we as a class were “in for it.” But when he returned, Mr. Webb didn’t go into a red, apoplectic rage. He looked a little sad as he dropped the magnet into the trashcan and went on with a different lesson.

I remember sitting home bored and lonesome, when Shelby knocked at our front door. When I answered, it was Mr. Webb. “We need you to come draw us some pictures for the layout on the yearbook,” said he. I had very little to no talent for drawing, but if Mr. Webb wanted it, that’s what I would gladly do. Mr. Webb believed in me.

I remember not having the money for college. Mr. Webb again knocked at our front door. This time he sat down and talked to me and told me about scholarships and loans, ways to get the money to attend college. He told me in such a personal and caring way that I truly believed him. And I followed all the things he told me, and I did go to college. Mr. Webb believed in me.

Today, I know that Shelby Webb made a difference on Coal River. He did what he did not just for me, but for every child that would listen. He worked hard to help us and to raise us up. Although all of the teachers I had at Edwight Elementary School and at Marsh Fork High School were caring and supportive, it was the actions and the words of Shelby Webb that most consistently and convincingly said, “I believe in you. You can do it!”

Contributed By: Charles T. Bradford