Learning English Literature from Larry McQuiston was like mental boot camp, with Macbeth for the obstacle course. For 27 years, Mr. McQuiston strode the second floor of the main building (1976 – 2003) like a droll Marlow seeking his Kurtz. He prowled the room, lecturing on all things didactic and sardonic, armed with a long metal rod that he would use like a drumstick against the hollow of his lectern. When he landed a swat with it, it sounded like thunder. It was impossible to nod off in that class. It was intoxicating to be in his classroom. He knew his content, he took no guff, and he utterly handled the room like a pro. Even the muscleheads could not rattle Larry McQuiston. “He was a huge reason that I became an English teacher,” said Kieran Scott ‘83. “I am a better man and teacher for his influence.”
