This is a shameful, yet uplifting story that I thought I would secretly take with me to my grave.

The story from the fall of 1990 haunts me to this day, yet it completely explains why I think the world of Tom Pomroy Sr., who passed away last week at the age of 91.

We called him Señor Pomroy, and I was a sophomore at Butte Central when I tried to cheat in his Spanish class. I knew it was wrong, but I also knew I had no chance of passing that test on my own that day. Spanish took a ton of work, and I did not put in the work.

Plus, Spanish is just something that I struggled to learn. I had to take Spanish at the University of Montana, and it took me three semesters to pass the required two semesters for my journalism degree. Both passing grades were GPA-killing five-credit C’s.

I had Spanish the first period of the day at BC, and I wrote out some cheat notes on a piece of paper that morning. We had to take out another sheet of paper and write down the answers to the questions Señor Pomroy asked us as he walked around the room.

The cheat sheet was right below the test paper, and if I pushed down on the paper, I could kind of read the notes to help me get the answers.

Señor Pomroy apparently saw what I was doing, and he stopped the test a couple of questions in to tell us a story. He told of a time he saw a student cheating on a test. He told the class how the student set cheat notes in the book rack of his desk, and it was just visible enough for him to cheat.

After he finished the story about why we should never cheat, Señor Pomroy turned around and took a long, slow walk back to his desk so I could get rid of the cheat sheet. There was no question that he did that for me, and my heart pounded as I grabbed the sheet and crammed it into my backpack.

Getting caught cheating would have been a huge deal. It might not have been like a “Scent of a Woman” big deal, but it would have meant an automatic F in the class, among other punishment at school. More than anything, it would have exposed me as a cheater.

Other than on that one incident, I was not a cheater.

But Señor Pomroy just slowly walked back to the front of the class and resumed the test as if nothing had happened. My grades and reputation were saved.

A couple of weeks later, he caught another student in the class cheating. This boy had some notes on his lap as he tried to cheat on the test.

Señor Pomroy saw him, and he again stopped the test to tell a story of another time he caught a student cheating. This time, when he told the class how this student cheated, he was telling exactly how I tried to do it.

Ater the story, Señor Pomroy turned around and took a long, slow walk back to his desk so the student could get rid of the notes.

Señor Pomroy never said word to me or the other student about the cheating attempts. He must have figured that we learned our lesson, and he was right in my case. I put in the work the rest of the semester, and I got an honest C.

He never treated me differently. When I would see him playing handball at the Elks, Señor Pomroy would always seem to be genuinely happy to see me. He remembered me as a student he liked, not one who tried to cheat in his class.

Early in 2019, I called Señor Pomroy on the phone. It was the first time I had talked to him in a couple of decades, and I was trying to officially tell him that he was elected to the Butte Sports Hall of Fame. I tried to tell him, and I tried to tell him, but I had a hard time getting a word in.

“Bill Foley,” he said. “I know you, Bill Foley.”

I called him Señor Pomroy, and he told me how he remembered me as one of his students. He told me that he always read my stories in the newspaper. He even threw out a few Spanish questions to see if I remembered, and, surprisingly, I did.

I told him the weather was “hace frio,” and that I was “muy bueno.” That means it was cold outside and I was doing very good, for all you monolingual dummies out there.

Eventually, I was able to get around to tell Señor Pomroy why I called. He was going to be inducted into the Butte Sports Hall of Fame in June. I told him the names of the people he was going to be inducted with, and he was so happy to hear he was going in with his cousin, Kathy (Bender) Means.

During the Green Jacket Ceremony, Señor Pomroy received his Green Jacket from his sons, Tom and Steve, and his daughter, Teri. Later, Señor Pomroy went back on stage as the surprise Green Jacket presenter to Kathy.

I know he was happier for her than he was for himself. Señor Pomroy’s ear-to-ear smile as Kathy walked on the stage made the entire weekend.

Tom Pomroy Jr. was inducted into the Butte Sports Hall of Fame in 2007, and his father probably should have been inducted at least at the same time. His résumé spoke for itself.

Señor Pomroy was a heck of a running back for Coach Swede Dahlberg at Butte High. He led the Bulldogs in rushing yards during a 61-0 win over Butte Central in 1951. The next year, he played halfback for the Montana Grizzly Cubs, a freshman team that went undefeated.

He was a standout in track and baseball. He pitched for Butte’s runner-up American Legion team in 1951, and he was a star for the Miners Union team that won the Copper League title in 1953. He pitched for the 1954 Montana Grizzlies Skyline Conference championship team.

Señor Pomroy was also a great handball player, winning multiple City titles. That includes a handful of doubles crowns with his son, Tom.

Eventually going into the Hall of Fame at the age of 85 was not a case of better late than never for Señor Pomroy. He was just so thriller to be there. His happiness extended to everyone lucky enough to be a part of that great Butte Sports Hall of Fame weekend. It was impossible for it to not.

With tears in my eyes, I read Señor Pomroy’s obituary online the other night. The following sentence jumped off the screen.

“Tom was a wonderful person who was liked by all.”

Yes, Señor Pomroy was liked by all. That is because he liked all. He will be dearly missed by all who ever met him, and he will be remembered fondly.

Señor Pomroy will be remembered as an incredibly kind man who was always willing to help anybody. He will be remembered for making other people happy. It was practically impossible to be in a bad mood after an encounter with Señor Pomroy.

For me, Señor Pomroy will long be remembered for his amazing ability to see and bring out the best in everybody.

Even when they were trying to cheat on one of his tests.

 — Bill Foley, who remembers very little Spanish, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74 or Bluesky at @foles74.bsky.social. Listen to him on the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.