A forgettable person remembered

August 19th, 2002, 4:00pm: The first day of school. I am sitting in a classroom waiting for the instructor to arrive. The class was Philosophy 2: Introduction to Logic. There were dozens among dozens of students. Most were enrolled, but quite a few of the students were hoping to add the course. The classroom setting was more than familiar to me. My Economics class was held in this room the previous semester. The room was on the west side of the building, and since it was late in the afternoon, the rays from the setting sun blaze down into the classroom like a heat lamp at full blast.
“It feels like a sauna in here,” I think to myself.
The instructor arrives a few minutes later. Son M. Le was his name. He looked like your average businessman wearing a suit and tie, and carrying a briefcase everywhere he went. He was a frail old man, and it seemed quite obvious that he dyes his hair to cover any gray hairs he might have. He was no taller than 5’5”, and he wore prescr...