By Chris Lane
By Jeff Balke
By Aaron Reiss
By Angelica Leicht
By Dianna Wray
By Aaron Reiss
By Camilo Smith
By Craig Malisow
If some of Price's stories seemed outlandish, the story Price told that afternoon topped them all: Police officers had come to the school and searched his briefcase. They told him the principal had reported that Price was carrying a gun and intended to shoot her. When the police found no gun, Northeast District Superintendent E.O. Curtis, who was on the scene, asked Price to come to the district office. There, he was relieved of his duties with pay.
The memorandum Curtis gave Price said the librarian was accused of "calling students in your class 'niggers;' re-enacting the Jasper, Texas incident by having a child lie down on the floor with both feet in a chair while you slowly pulled; telling your students that you hated Blacks; telling your students that Ms. Jefferson, the principal, does not like you and you don't like her, etc." No mention was made of a gun.
In the view of local TV stations, Price was right about his big news. The tale of the racist librarian led Channel 2's "Live at Five" and ran on several stations on two consecutive days. But barely a peep was heard from parents of the children who were allegedly subjected to such abuse. The Houston Chronicle quoted the Kashmere Gardens PTA president quoting "a group of parents" quoting their children quoting Price as saying, "This is what happened to a man in Jasper, Texas, and this is what should happen to all [racial slur]" after he "grabbed a fourth-grade student by his feet Monday and dragged him across the library floor."
The district issued a statement saying, "HISD absolutely will not tolerate this type of behavior, and if this allegation is true, this person's employment with HISD will be terminated." Other than that, district spokesperson Terry Abbott declined to comment until an investigation is completed.
Except for one specialist who works with disabled children, Price is the only white teacher at Kashmere Gardens Elementary. He is hyperbolic -- visit his home a few times and he'll say you've been there "dozens of times." He also adjusts details to suit his needs. Curtis's repeatedly asking Price to clean off his desk before leaving campus is later recast as Curtis's refusing to let Price clean off his desk before leaving campus, an explanation for his inability to produce certain promised documents. Yet his exaggeration tends to the theatrical, not the cruel. When Good Morning America supposedly queried him about a possible appearance after the local news coverage, Price asked an acquaintance, deadpan, if a tuxedo wouldn't be "too much" to wear on the show.
"I ain't never heard him say nothing toward a black person. No black person -- no kids, no adults, since I've been working there with him," says Julia Keller, a black mother of twins who volunteered in the Kashmere Gardens library every day. Keller says Price asked Jefferson to give her a school lunch every day. When the school wouldn't, he bought it for her himself. She says he also purchased crayons, paper, pencils and other supplies for the students -- and a microwave and coffee maker for the teachers -- with his own money. The idea that Price would call students "niggers" doesn't add up for Keller.
"I feel this way: If he's the only white person in that school, and he's been there four years, how is he going to have racism toward a black person?" she asks. "That's what I don't understand. That's stupid."
So what did happen in the library on Monday, February 1, the first day of Black History Month? Price's story seems typically theatrical: He gave a fourth-grade class a lesson on civil rights, showing a movie about onetime slave Jane Pittman and explaining concepts such as racism and segregation. Students brought up the subject of the murder in Jasper, where a black man, James Byrd Jr., was dragged behind a truck and decapitated. The kids wanted to know why people do things like that to other people. They wanted to know what "decapitated" meant. They wanted to know why Byrd didn't just untie himself from the truck. Price says he asked a volunteer from the class to demonstrate by lying down and putting his feet up on a table, which he told the class to pretend was a moving truck. Then he asked Jeremy if the boy could reach up to his feet to untie an imaginary rope. He couldn't.
There was another teacher in the room when all this was going on, but according to Houston Federation of Teachers president Gayle Fallon, all teachers at the school have been instructed not to discuss the incident with anyone. "There are a number of teachers telling us, 'This charge isn't real,' " Fallon says.