About 40 years ago, Tony Jacobs carried an industrial-grade boom box on his first day at Franklin High School in Seattle. As he walked into school, the song “Me and Mrs. Jones” started playing. He dropped to one knee and started singing. But his performance was cut short by the school counselor who told the students gathered around Jacobs to get to class.
“Then she told me it was too early in the day to be in her office already,” Jacobs remembered. “She told me I didn’t want to get into trouble on my first day.”
Now the tables have turned. Jacobs is a security guard at Fort Vancouver High School. He walks the halls greeting students, high-fiving and fist-bumping — and sometimes being the tough guy. Rounding a corner, he spied a circle of students hanging out after the tardy bell.
“Get to class! Get to class!” he said. But he grinned.
The circle broke up. Jacobs kept patrolling the halls.
Music has stayed with Jacobs all these years, and sometimes he breaks into a song. His favorites are Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, anything Motown.
As he greeted students, he stopped and crooned: “Ooh child, things are gonna get easier. Ooh child, things’ll get brighter.”
Jacobs will get a chance to belt out his favorite Motown tunes along with several other school district employees at a free concert Thursday night at Fort Vancouver High School. He organizes a concert every year.
He planned his first concert when he was a security guard at Hudson’s Bay High School. He convinced a group of school employees, including choir teacher Candace Morrison, to perform with him. The concert was a success. The next year, Jacobs and Morrison began planning another concert, but Morrison died when she was thrown from a horse. That year — and every year since — Jacobs has organized the concert as a tribute to Morrison. This year, he’s trying to find Morrison’s husband so he can invite him to the concert.
“Tony is very caring and respectful to the students. He has great rapport,” said Marie Monek, who works at the school. “And he has a great singing voice.”
Jacobs also offers quick snacks for any student who asks. With the help of his wife and friends, Jacobs stocks his office with instant noodles, bread and peanut butter and more for hungry kids. He said he fed 47 students one week, 34 another.
It was second lunch period and a group of girls carrying food walked down a hall. Jacobs approached them, cleared his throat and said, “Uh-uh. Not in here.”
The girls turned around and headed back to the cafeteria. Jacobs explained that last school year, students could eat in this hallway, but the rules changed this year.
A few minutes later, another group of girls passed him in the hall.
“How come you ladies aren’t in class?” he asked.
“We have lunch!” one girl answered.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Down yet another hall, a boy greeted, “Hey, Tony! Can I leave school early?”
“If I let you leave early, I’ll have to let everyone leave early,” he said.
Jacobs stopped to admire the artwork of several girls who were designing posters for teachers’ doors. Some worked at tables while others were sprawled on the floor.
“Good job! Good job!” Jacobs encouraged, and then he kept walking. Jacobs greeted seniors Robert Feeny and Josiah Rich, both 18.
“Tony’s always the encourager,” said Feeny. “Even when I’m having a bad day, he’s always singing. You can be in the worst mood, and he just starts singing.”
Jacobs fist-bumped the students, but then added: “Now, you guys get to class, all right?”
