Universal Pictures Presents...
(EDITOR'S NOTE: This article has been revised a great deal from what I originally published in May 1990. The reason: I had this great idea, a sort of cross-over between our universe and the Back to the Future universe, because BTTF Parts II and III both came out during our senior year. In the years that followed, it became obvious that the original version wasn't executed well at all. Anyway, the general plot remains the same: Marty McFly and Dr. Emmett Brown travel to 1989 so Marty can learn Calculus from Mr. Boluch; in the process, Marty experiences everything that happened in the 4th hour A.P.M. 12 class.)
It had been a little over a week. But Marty McFly felt like he needed a month to recover from his hectic, crazy, extraordinary time-travelling adventures with Dr. Emmett L. Brown, the scientist who was now being reported missing by the local media.
In particular, he had been thinking over what Dr. Brown said:
"The future is what you make it, so make it a good one."
But now Marty was driving home in his new Toyota pickup truck, dealing with the reality of the present, particularly the reality of his worst report card--four C's, including a C- in Precalculus, and two B's. He was better than that, of course, otherwise he wouldn't have earned the trust of the scientist responsible for the greatest invention ever. But he hadn't done nearly enough to make Mr. Strickland think twice about calling him a "slacker."
He checked the mailbox and saw a letter addressed to him from Biff's Auto Detailing. (Marty had "borrowed" blank copies of the letterhead and envelopes from Biff and given them to Dr. Brown, so the Doc could send letters to Marty because using stationery marked "Emmett L. Brown Enterprises" was sure to set off alarms.) As he knew that it must be the Doc, he went to his bedroom, opened the letter and read it.
Marty had figured that he would never travel through time with Doc; after what happened with his preventing his parents' first meeting in 1955 and the Gray's Sports Almanac in 2015, Marty couldn't blame Doc for leaving him out of any other time travel plans. Marty tore up the letter and buried the pieces at the bottom of the trash can in his bedroom.
The next day, the package arrived. The wristwatch arrived, as did some odd clothing--a pair of jeans that looked like they had a "frosted" look to them, for one. Marty changed his clothing, put on the wristwatch and pressed the red button. Suddenly, his surroundings changed. What was once his bedroom had become a wooded area. Beyond the woods, just 80 yards or so to the east, he could see a large building--it looked to him like it might be a prison.
He heard a familiar voice yell out from behind him, "Marty!"
Startled, Marty turned around to see the Doc. "Doc, you scared me there! Where the hell are we? ... When are we?"
"We are in the city of Farmington Hills, Michigan at precisely 7:30am on August 29, 1989."
"What's this all about? Can't you just come back to the lab in 1985 and explain everything?"
"Explain my younger appearance, the loud noises, the trails of flame in the parking lot, the Libyans, that building they destroyed outside the Mall? They'd send me to the FBI."
"Then why are we in the future? You told me Jennifer and I will turn out fine and the future's what we make it. So there's nothing wrong with me, right?"
"True. But I thought one day, I should repay you for saving my life in 1885," Doc said as he walked in the direction of that large building. "And I figured, what better way to do that than a whole school year studying Calculus under one of the best math teachers this country has to offer, Mr. Walt Boluch."
"Doc, I'm having enough troubles with Precalc, and you're right, I'm thinking about dropping that. Why should I be taking Calculus?"
"In order to get college math credit, Marty, you'll need to do really well on the AP Calculus exam. And you need Calculus for that exam."
Dr. Brown then produced a piece of paper from his pocket.
"I took the liberty of registering you for your classes," he said. "Here's your schedule... Mass Media, Spanish IV, Journalism II, Advanced Placement Math 12--that's the Calculus class--American Government and Physics."
Marty looked over the schedule. About a minute later, something occurred to him.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, Doc, are you telling me that I'll be going to this..." He read the name of the school on his schedule. "... Harrison High School for the whole school year?"
"Precisely!"
"I'll be nine months older next time I see Jennifer."
"That's not a bad thing, Marty. Trust me, men mature a lot more slowly than women. You could use the extra nine months."
Monday
November 4
1985
2:27 P.M.
It had been a little over a week. But Marty McFly felt like he needed a month to recover from his hectic, crazy, extraordinary time-travelling adventures with Dr. Emmett L. Brown, the scientist who was now being reported missing by the local media.
In particular, he had been thinking over what Dr. Brown said:
"The future is what you make it, so make it a good one."
But now Marty was driving home in his new Toyota pickup truck, dealing with the reality of the present, particularly the reality of his worst report card--four C's, including a C- in Precalculus, and two B's. He was better than that, of course, otherwise he wouldn't have earned the trust of the scientist responsible for the greatest invention ever. But he hadn't done nearly enough to make Mr. Strickland think twice about calling him a "slacker."
He checked the mailbox and saw a letter addressed to him from Biff's Auto Detailing. (Marty had "borrowed" blank copies of the letterhead and envelopes from Biff and given them to Dr. Brown, so the Doc could send letters to Marty because using stationery marked "Emmett L. Brown Enterprises" was sure to set off alarms.) As he knew that it must be the Doc, he went to his bedroom, opened the letter and read it.
Dear Marty,
If my calculations are correct, you realized that this letter had to be from me even though my name isn't on the return address. I still want everybody--especially the nosy people at the Post Office--to keep thinking I'm missing.
Tomorrow, you will receive a package containing a wristwatch and some clothing. This wristwatch is a time travel device from the distant future. (I couldn't use that locomotive so I had to find a time-travel device that was more inconspicuous.) Open the package immediately after receiving it, but make sure to do so in a private place--hopefully your bedroom provides sufficient privacy. Change into the clothing--it's from four years into the future so it may look a little strange--and then press the red button on the wristwatch. It is already programmed with the destination time and place so do not worry about setting anything on it.
Finally, please destroy this letter after reading these instructions.
Best Regards,
Dr. Emmett L. Brown
The next day, the package arrived. The wristwatch arrived, as did some odd clothing--a pair of jeans that looked like they had a "frosted" look to them, for one. Marty changed his clothing, put on the wristwatch and pressed the red button. Suddenly, his surroundings changed. What was once his bedroom had become a wooded area. Beyond the woods, just 80 yards or so to the east, he could see a large building--it looked to him like it might be a prison.
He heard a familiar voice yell out from behind him, "Marty!"
Startled, Marty turned around to see the Doc. "Doc, you scared me there! Where the hell are we? ... When are we?"
"We are in the city of Farmington Hills, Michigan at precisely 7:30am on August 29, 1989."
"What's this all about? Can't you just come back to the lab in 1985 and explain everything?"
"Explain my younger appearance, the loud noises, the trails of flame in the parking lot, the Libyans, that building they destroyed outside the Mall? They'd send me to the FBI."
"Then why are we in the future? You told me Jennifer and I will turn out fine and the future's what we make it. So there's nothing wrong with me, right?"
"True. But I thought one day, I should repay you for saving my life in 1885," Doc said as he walked in the direction of that large building. "And I figured, what better way to do that than a whole school year studying Calculus under one of the best math teachers this country has to offer, Mr. Walt Boluch."
"Doc, I'm having enough troubles with Precalc, and you're right, I'm thinking about dropping that. Why should I be taking Calculus?"
"In order to get college math credit, Marty, you'll need to do really well on the AP Calculus exam. And you need Calculus for that exam."
Dr. Brown then produced a piece of paper from his pocket.
"I took the liberty of registering you for your classes," he said. "Here's your schedule... Mass Media, Spanish IV, Journalism II, Advanced Placement Math 12--that's the Calculus class--American Government and Physics."
Marty looked over the schedule. About a minute later, something occurred to him.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, Doc, are you telling me that I'll be going to this..." He read the name of the school on his schedule. "... Harrison High School for the whole school year?"
"Precisely!"
"I'll be nine months older next time I see Jennifer."
"That's not a bad thing, Marty. Trust me, men mature a lot more slowly than women. You could use the extra nine months."
Consider the students in Mr. Boluch's 12th Grade A.P.M. (Advanced Placement Math) class. Some people had thought of that college credit. Rumors of a Cedar Point trip may have spurred on others (the Physics class did have one; Mr. Boluch's classes did not). 41 students were enrolled in either the first hour class or the fourth hour class (42 if you include Marty, who would join the fourth hour class).
The main goal of the course was to cover Calculus so students could do well on the Advanced Placement Calculus Exam the following May. And thus, a year-long preparation began.
Dr. Brown had to make sure Marty was learning Calculus, so he got a job at Harrison High's Industrial Arts Department. During the break between 3rd and 4th hours one day, he caught Marty carrying, along with his Calculus book, a Grab Bag of Cheetos, and took that from him. "Marty, the Cheetos can wait until B-lunch. Work on the review sheet!"
"Gimme a break, Doc," Marty said. "Nobody else is doing them."
Dr. Brown replied, "Whoever 'nobody' is, they're not thinking of that college credit! Know anyone who's serious?"
"I know a few who are studying for this Michigan Math test."
Dr. Brown slapped his forehead. "Of course! The Michigan Math Prize Competition--that might be a tough exam for you--only the top 6% in the state get to advance to an even more difficult exam to compete for cash prizes. Anyway, get in touch with those students. They've got to be the best in the class if they're willing to spend $2 on a competition where only the top 100 in the state get prizes."
"Or they're crazy. Say, Doc, can't you just get the answers for the Michigan Math test? I could use some of that money."
"After what happened with that Sports Almanac? I'd just as soon have you committed."
Of course, A.P.M. 12 wasn't all about studying. For example, Tim Story, Phil Hatch and Brian Ellison helped the Seniors win the Field Day event at the end of the annual Spirit Week (September 15). During the wheelchair race, Ted Skinner caused a sophomore to fall out of his wheelchair with a roll of toilet paper he threw from the stands--one of the front wheels of the wheelchair caught on the roll, causing it and the sophomore riding it to topple over.
The following Monday, Mark Rabinowitz said that the toilet paper/wheelchair blooper reminded him of the final scene in the movie, "The Naked Gun" (in which a still-injured O.J. Simpson rolls down an aisle at a stadium in his wheelchair, and ends up flying out of that wheelchair and over the railing of the upper deck).
But seriously, two dozen A.P.M. 12 students participated in Part I of the Michigan Math Prize Competition. Two got to go on to Part II--Dan Fulga from the 1st hour class (he had 26 problems right out of 40) and Rabinowitz from the 4th hour class (24). (For more details on this, see Rope is Top (50) Quality.)
"Doc, I hope this doesn't mess up my transcript. How am I supposed to explain that I went to Harrison High School four years after I graduated from Hill Valley High?" Marty wondered on a whim.
"It won't mess up anything, as long as you don't tell anyone you went here. After the school year is over, you'll go back to 1985, on the exact same day you left, but with a far greater understanding of math than you had before. That means you'll do a lot better at Hill Valley High--you've got to do better, you got a 62 on that first test on fundamental differentiation!"
"But Doc, Mr. B. added 27 points to everybody's tests, so I've got an 89!"
"Marty, you should look at Jared Goldapper's test! Here, I borrowed it from him yesterday and copied it."
"Some whiz kid! Holy geez, he didn't even need the curve!"
Few students in A.P.M. 12 could equal Goldapper's seemingly effortless work. Getting 100% on most tests became commonplace for him.
That test on fundamental differentiation, the one that Marty got a 62 on (or an 89 if you account for that curve), took place on October 16. Three days later, a power failure hit Harrison during 4th hour that day (see more details in the Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990).
On October 25, after class, Marty looked at the newest edition of The Summit, a class newsletter published by Rabinowitz. Marty wanted to ask him if he could have a copy to show to Debbie Stein, the Co-Editor-in-Chief of the Catalyst, the school newsmagazine. But Mark had already rushed off to lunch.
He turned to Mr. Boluch and said, "This Mark's got a hell of a memory. How does he remember the dates for all these power failures?"
Mr. Boluch said, "He's been writing newsletters for my class for over a year now. One of the two power failures from last year took place during my class, too. So he's been keeping records for at least that long. But you're right, he has a very good memory, too."
Marty did ask Mark during the next day's Mass Media Class, and the following month, the Catalyst did publish a power failure story, although it did not credit Mark for his contributions. Also that month, the 1989 edition of the Retrospect yearbook came off the presses. It bombed, to say the least; for more details, see The Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990.
In December, Harrison's Jack Buller Chapter of the National Honor Society inducted 5 seniors, along with 27 juniors. All five were from A.P.M. 12 (Jared Goldapper, Debby Hirsch, Jason McCombs, Shannon McCormick and Mark Rabinowitz).
Marty woke up one morning during Winter Break to a phone call from Mr. Boluch, who said, "Marty, I'd like you to pick up your copies of the 1985 and 1988 AP Exams."
Marty thought to himself, Darn, I thought everything would get put off because of those two snow days last Thursday and Friday. "Sure, when can I come over there?"
"Well, I'd like you to get it today, because you could one of my top candidates for this year's AP Exam. I'd like you to start studying now, instead of waiting until after the break, like everyone else."
It was during--not after--Winter Break that preparation for the 1990 Calculus AB exam began in earnest. Not only did Mr. Boluch make copies of the 1985 and 1988 AB exams, but also the multiple choice problems from the more difficult BC exams taken in those two years; free response problems from AB exams spanning two decades, and an old AP Course description that had 24 problems. He even used the AB exam from 1969.
March 2 witnessed the arrival of a large bat at Harrison. It provided one of the few times that the 1st hour class would wake up (Ray Vucinaj told G&G that, like most 1st hour classes, this A.P.M. 12 class seemed subdued, perhaps wishing for more sleep). The bat terrorized the top floor until a custodian killed it with a broom.
Also, Mr. Boluch broke up three fights. Two of them took place in the math corridor, and the third in the bathroom by the 3E stairwell. These fights, along with a few others, threatened to make Harrison look like a low-rent Caesars Palace during the 1989-90 school year.
The preparation got more intense during the spring. More afterschool meetings. More reviewing and re-reviewing of old AP Exams.
Then the big day came: May 11, 1990.
Eleven students were ready for the challenge. They were Mill Coleman, Dan Fulga, Jared Goldapper, Debby Hirsch, Lena Larsson, Sandi Morelli, Alex Nemirovsky, John Oros, Mark Rabinowitz, John Sacco and Vic Varsanyi. OK, if you include Marty McFly, that would make it 12. They tackled 45 multiple-choice problems, followed by 6 free response problems that provided greater challenges then all the multiple-choice problems combined. Every student in Room 380 used every ounce of concentration and determination they could muster during the three hours alotted. By noon, the test was over, a year's worth of work condensed onto a relatively small amount of paper.
After reviewing responses to the free response questions, Mr. Boluch noted that a few stood out as potential 5's on the AP grading scale of 1 to 5. But scores would not come until July. In the meantime, Mr. Boluch moved on to more material for the A.P.M. 12 final exam. After this, the year in Calculus would finally end.
As much as Marty wanted to enjoy Swing Out, graduation night and the All-Night Party, Dr. Brown was determined to get himself and Marty back to 1985 while Marty still had a solid working knowledge of Calculus in his head. Doc had checked Marty's answers on the AP Exam and determined that he had scored a 3--not bad considering he had been struggling with Precalc. They went into a vacant Room 391 when nobody was looking and pressed the red buttons on their wristwatches to send them back to Hill Valley, California in 1985.
"I wonder how much credit you'll get at Hill Valley College," Doc wondered as they returned.
"Forget that," Marty responded with a grin. "I'll apply to U of M as soon as I get home. You might be looking at a Michigan man..."
"Great Scott! That means your children might get messed up again! Marty, I didn't want to go back to 2015, but we've got to double-check on Junior and Marlene!"
BACK... TO CALCOBABBLE
"Good."
-Paul Levine, when Mr. Boluch said he would do "one more problem" before assigning homework
"To drop out."
-Joe George, guessing what Mr. Boluch was "trying to tell" him
"Look in the back of the book."
-Ted Skinner, anticipating what Mr. Boluch wanted the class to do on a homework assignment
"You see, that's the dumb way!"
-Skinner, when Mr. Boluch made an error while attempting to demonstrate "the dumb way" to do a problem
"Just think of how many trees you killed!"
-Skinner again, on all the copies Mr. Boluch made of various AP tests
"This is the totally terrible way to do this problem."
-Mr. Boluch, when he demonstrated an incorrect approach to a math problem
"Shame on you."
-Mr. Boluch, when anyone made a dumb error
THE SUMMIT, the newsletter of A.P.M. 12, is a publication of the Headline Review Foundation © 1990, edited by Mark Rabinowitz for Green & Gold Digest. Contributors from the 1st hour A.P.M. 12 class were Matt Paletz, Tim Story and Ray Vucinaj. THE SUMMIT wishes the best of futures for the Class of 1990, G&G, and Mr. Boluch's next A.P.M. 12 class!
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