During the 2024 Alumni Reunion Weekend I met Langford Jordan ’79 and we had a brief, lively conversation about his school days and his role as one of the student photographers. I told him that I would like to continue the discussion about his days at St. Stephen’s School, thinking it could be a fun and interesting snapshot of school life in the 70s. My conversation with him turned out to be about that and much more. It was about the power of a teacher to transform a life.

BY MELISSA ULSAKER MAAS ‘76

The 1979 “Photostaff.” Langford is in the back row center.

“When I started at St. Stephen’s I hadn’t learned anything for two years, because Glasgow was just about surviving,” Langford revealed. He remembers his first day at SSS, standing in a line in the basement cafeteria waiting to register for his classes. “Looking around at the other boys, I was relieved that none of them looked like they would beat me up,” he recalls. “When I met Mr. Shell in summer school, I couldn’t write a sentence to save my life, and he was very particular about that and determined to help me.”

That summer class was the beginning of five years working with Mr. Shell, including two years in his English class, and the start of a special relationship. Mr. Shell was a tough and meticulous English teacher who really cared about his student’s welfare. He was a teacher who not only helped them learn in class, but also a man who looked for ways to build them up, give them confidence, and leadership skills. Langford loved to read, but struggled with writing and math. Mr. Shell helped him focus on his academics and gave him extra time and attention. Langford’s first two years at SSS were about getting his “sea legs” and catching up to his peers academically.

Outside the classroom, Langford went out for soccer and played on the junior varsity team in his sophomore year. In his junior year he moved up to the varsity team and was team captain in his senior year. The soccer team played in the winter and was appropriately nicknamed the “Mud Men,” as they were bathed in filth by the end of every game. “Mr. Dean Murphy was our JV coach, and he was very good at encouraging you—a really gentle soul,” Langford said. “I had some talent for long distance running, so I got to spend some time behind Coach James Osuna’s little red car.” Little red car? “He used to drive it around the track and make you grab the back to lengthen out your stride,” Langford laughed. Joining the soccer and track teams was a good start, but Mr. Shell encouraged Langford to do more. 

“My parents had given me a 35-millimeter camera for Christmas, and although I didn’t really know how to use it, I gave it a try,” Langford said. “Mr. Shell was an extraordinary photographer and the photography advisor for the yearbook and newspaper. I don’t remember how it came about, but one day we started talking about photography.” During that conversation, Langford mentioned that he and his older brother had started taking pictures and even set up a darkroom in their basement. Mr. Shell offered to teach Langford more about his camera and how to develop black and white film. Working together under the red light, they discovered he had a knack for it and Langford joined the student Photostaff.

According to the 1977 SSS yearbook, “Scroll,” the Photostaff existed “to provide photographic services to school publications, to stimulate interest in photography as an avocation, and to disseminate information and promote craftsmanship among its members.” To inspire the boys to put in the effort, time and acquire greater proficiency, Mr. Shell created a point system for the photographers to earn badges that indicated their skill level. There were five degrees of membership and advancement to each level was earned by accumulating points for work completed (including points for shooting, developing, and printing the photos): apprentice (76-299 points), associate staff photographer (300-399), staff photographer (400-699), senior staff photographer (700-999), and ultimately master photographer (1000+). 

Langford started working with his classmate and friend, Pete Fellows ’79, who was the editor-in-chief of the 1979 yearbook and a layout expert. “Pete was super creative,” Langford said. “In fact, everyone in our group was pretty crafty and good at pulling the yearbook together.” The yearbook staff worked under the guidance of the yearbook advisor, Social Studies Teacher Mr. Richard Taliaferro, Jr. By their senior year, Mr. Taliaferro and Mr. Shell showed their confidence in the staff by allowing them several “firsts” with the yearbook.

“Mr. Shell let us take some color photos, which had never been done before,” Langford said. “Most of them were taken by me as a master photographer, because color film was expensive to use and print.” Pete somehow talked Mr. Taliaferro into paying for an embossed red and black cover for the yearbook. In addition, the advisors sent four students, Langford, Pete, Steve O’Brien ’80, and Steve Wadsworth ’80 (editor-in-chief of the 1980 Scroll), to a yearbook conference at the University of North Carolina during the summer of 1978.

“I always had my camera with me so I could grab photos, mostly of my classmates, in the classrooms, outside, in the cafeteria, anywhere really,” Langford said. “Pete and I also took some fun excursions, including driving down to the seedy part of 14th Street in D.C., where I took a photo of the lights and traffic going by. The picture was so cool that it made it into the yearbook.” Langford loved taking true candid shots, capturing Lower School students at play and his classmates unaware in the new senior lounge. He took many of the club photos, student candids, and the candid senior pictures that adorned their senior pages. 

By his senior year, Langford was working alongside fellow master photographer Bill Bavin ’81. They developed film and shot all of the sporting events, even working during the holidays. It was exciting to capture the varsity football team, who took the IAC Championship with an undefeated 9-0 record, and a winning wrestling team, who finished the season with a 9-2 record. Langford liked the challenge of taking sports photos, which required more skill.

“My favorite picture in the yearbook is one of Hannon Jacob ’79 flying through the air,” Langford said with a grin. “I nearly got creamed taking that shot, as he was coming right at me. It’s a little blurry, but it’s a really awesome color shot with a great memory attached to it.”

And isn’t that the beauty of yearbooks? All the memories they trigger? Langford and all the dedicated student photographers and the yearbook staff had very important and special jobs, capturing the school year not just for the students, faculty, and staff at the time, but for the future. The yearbooks are a treasure trove of photos, stories, and the history of the school.

“I wanted to be a master photographer, I wanted that badge,” Langford said. As Langford worked his way up the Photostaff ladder and became known for his photography, he became more involved and felt more at ease in the community. He earned a sort of notoriety as “the guy with the camera.” He became the chief photo editor of the 1979 yearbook, photo supervisor for the student newspaper, The Deacon, joined the Red Key Club and became president, and was part of the Homecoming Court in his junior year. He was also dating Kay Mustin ’79 and spending a lot of time at St. Agnes. Some of his photos even found their way into the St. Agnes yearbook, “Lambs’ Tail,” including the cheerleaders and the Homecoming court. In the 1979 yearbook, Langford’s classmates named him “Mr. SAS” and “most likely to be photographing jello for Ladies Home Journal” in the “In 20 Years” list.

The skinny, scared, and depressed kid who joined the Class of 1979 in the eighth grade was gone. St. Stephen’s provided him with a “comfortable and challenging place,” where he was able to carve his own niche within a dynamic class of “super smart guys and really good athletes.”

Mr. Shell had helped Langford find his place at St. Stephen’s. “Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Mr. Shell, I might not have graduated from any high school,” Langford said. “He taught me how to learn, how to study, how to write, and so much about photography. He helped give me a better sense of self. Mr. Shell was tough, but I really liked him. I always liked the tough teachers best, because they were the ones who really made a difference. When I was around 12-years-old God came into my life. I believe that God connected me with Mr. Shell.” And God and Mr. Shell changed Langford’s school journey, drawing him out of the shadows and into the light.

Jim Shell gave 20 years of service to St. Stephen’s school from 1963 until his death on July 11, 1983. The best way to really understand who Charles James Shell, Jr. was—and to remember and pay tribute to his contribution to our school’s history—is through the words of Headmaster Ed Ward at the Opening Convocation after Jim’s passing.

This convocation is at one and the same time taking note of two major experiences in the life of our community, the beginning of a new year and the loss of Mr. Shell, one of its pillars.

In bringing these two together, I can’t help but speculate on what Mr. Shell would say to us today if he were here as we begin a new year—what would he say, if before taking his place in the life to come, he had the chance to leave behind his thoughts for the coming year?

He would, like any of us, talk about the things he cared about the most and believed in most fervently. For example, he cared about little things like creating a garden or a beautiful photo, or learning rules of grammar and being punctual or keeping time for a track meet.

So, he would say to you: take care of the little things and the big things will take care of themselves.

 But he also cared about big things like God and history and the preservation of a civilized way of life. He believed that order and discipline and tradition were at the very heart of civilization—and he loved the pomp and circumstance of ceremony and excelled at leading others in it.

 So, he would say to you remember your roots—know your heritage—study it and preserve it through ceremony and ritual.

He cared about duty in carrying out one’s responsibility to others or to institutions, whether you feel like doing it or not. He believed that rules and regulations were important in education as a means of learning the importance of duty in life.

So, he would say to you do your duty well, be faithful in carrying out your responsibilities, and observe the rules and regulations of society in order to contribute to the necessary order in life and to be secure in it.

 He wanted to help people but he had difficulty with those who wouldn’t help themselves. This led some people to miss the depth of his feeling for those in need.

Shortly after his death I received a letter from the mother of one of his students; “I have just learned of the death of Mr. Shell and we are all very saddened. He was one of the exceptional teachers whose experience and patience guided my son this last year. Perhaps the succession of comments he wrote on his report card best illustrates his special qualities. The first term’s comment of ‘Poor start—is not beyond redemption’ was followed by ‘good work,’ then ‘steady on,’ and finally ‘Super’ written in huge letters followed by three exclamation points. His patience and attentiveness were matched by his enthusiasm and excellence and my son’s year in English was rich because of him.”

So, he would say to you: help one another and especially those in need who are struggling to help themselves.

Finally, and above all, he loved his God and his Church. His sensitivity to effective worship was more than a love of ceremony, it was where he met his God most directly and it was what allowed him to see God in the mundane things—as he brought them before God in worship.

So, he would say to you: if you want to know God, look for him in the common, mundane, ordinary things of life by bringing them into God’s presence through prayer and praise.

He was a man of extraordinary and deep interests, which most people took for granted because he was always where he was supposed to be, doing what he had to do or what others needed him to do. Though he was outspoken, he was modest about his accomplishments and content to do the little things behind the scene that needed doing.

In the Old Testament there is a minor incident reported when David is going out to do battle against the Carmelites—the writer, in describing what happened, says: “And they girded on every man his sword; and David also girded on his sword: and there went up after David about 400 men; and 200 stayed by the stuff.” For every two men who went out to do battle and reap the glory of victory, one had to “stay by the stuff,” protect the equipment and baggage, prepare the food, empty the garbage and see to the mundane things—but the battle cannot be won without them.

Mr. Shell was a man who was faithful to his responsibilities in every detail to the end of his days. He knew what it was to “stay by the stuff.” May we, in the coming year, as individuals and as a community, do likewise, in his memory.