CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- Some retired West Virginia teachers can take comfort in how well they impressed upon a few of their long-ago students a lifelong lesson: How to recite from memory all the Mountain State's 55 counties.

In alphabetical order, of course.

That ability -- along with fragments of "Macbeth" and the World War I poem "In Flanders Fields" -- was one of the most oft cited when we asked Sunday Gazette-Mail readers: "What can you still recite?"

More specifically, we asked them to tell us (without Googling or checking a book) what they could still recite off the top of their heads from school days? Or what about the text of an ancient commercial that entered your head, took up residence and never left?

The companion video to this story here showcases a half-dozen of the more than 30 respondents to our question in full-on recite mode. We videotaped the first half-dozen people we could get to, although the list below will show just how many more potential stars are out there should a producer wish to spin off a "Reciting Idol" contest.

The video ranges from the cackling witches of "Macbeth" (Cheryl Plear) and the mournful "In Flanders Fields" (Sally Swisher), to commercials for Crest toothpaste (Tom Burger), and Duz laundry soap (Imogene Burdette), plus the important life lesson of "The Famous Pig Tale" (Donald Call).

It concludes with an above-the-call-of-duty, costumed rendition of the children's song "Don Gato," which lifelong pals Becky Bostic and Kim Vickers had to do in fourth grade at St. Albans Elementary. And still can do. With maracas.

Here is what some of our readers still have up their sleeves, or tucked away in musty corners of their cerebral cortex. They're just waiting to be called to the front of the class.

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KENNETH ARNOTT, Dunbar: Sharon Pearson writes: My father, who is 85, memorized "In Flanders Fields" in elementary school in Roane County in the 1930s. He can still quote the poem and tells all his great grandchildren the meaning of remembering those who have sacrificed so much for our freedom.

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BRAD BEANE, Belle: My situation is kind of unique, as I wasn't the one who had to memorize anything. Instead, in high school I had to prompt a classmate in homeroom through her recitation of Edna St. Vincent Millay's "The Courage That My Mother Had." So, while I can't recall the whole poem from memory, I can still recall the first stanza (and, admittedly, I Googled for the proper punctuation marks):

"The courage that my mother had

"Went with her, and is with her still:

"Rock from New England quarried;

"Now granite in a granite hill."

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TOM and BETTIJANE BURGER, Charleston:

Tom Burger: The information about Crest toothpaste on the '60s box.

Bettijane Burger: "Song of the Chattahoochee" by Sidney Lanier, eighth grade, first few stanzas. And a poem about peace for the United Nations Assembly, "Thoughts Upon Seeing the United Nations Building" by Francis Tower, Morgantown High, 1963. And the 23rd Psalm -- a grade-school class recitation done every morning.

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IMOGENE BURDETTE, Culloden: I am 77 years old, and I can recite "Abou Ben Adhem" from my two-room school days. And I still remember the advertising jingle about Duz washing powder, from the '40s. And the opening remarks from the old-time radio soap opera "Our Gal Sunday," which are: "Can this girl from a little mining town in the West find happiness as the wife of a wealthy and titled Englishman?"

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DONALD CALL, Culloden: Daughter Janet McCoy wrote in on behalf of her 86-year-old father: He can recite many of the poems that he learned in a one-room school called Oak Dale on Sugar Camp Road in Putnam County. He can also recite many poems that he read to the three of us as children. The most famous one, at least for us, is "Sleeping at the Foot of the Bed." He quoted "The New Colossus" while headed for surgery and again coming out of anesthesia after heart surgery.

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SUE ANN CHARLES, Glenville: When I was in fourth and fifth grades (1958-59 and 1959-60) at Glenville Grade School, we had a wonderful teacher who really emphasized memorization and recitation. Mr. John Montgomery required us to memorize the presidents, the states and capitals, West Virginia's counties and rivers, among other things. Now, some 53 years later, I can still recite all of West Virginia's counties in alphabetical order. I can also get through about half of the state's rivers. Learning how to memorize served me well in my education and teaching career.

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MISTY COLLINS, Man: I am a pharmacist in Logan County. I can still recite a poem that I had to memorize and say in front of the class. I can't recite anything from high school or college and sometimes can't remember what I did the month before. But I do remember this poem:

"I think mice are rather nice/ Their tails are long/ Their faces small/ They haven't any chins at all/ Their ears are pink/ Their teeth are white/ They run about the house at night/ They nibble things they shouldn't touch/ And no one seems to like them much/ But I think mice are nice."

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TOM DAMEWOOD, Charleston: Several quatrains from "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam."

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BILL FLEMING, Ravenswood: Chris Landis writes: My 86-year-old father recites so many things from memory that I had to ask him what he remembered from his childhood. He is still memorizing poems today. From his childhood, he can recite "The Psalm of Life" by Henry W. Longfellow, the Gettysburg Address and, I believe, the Preamble of the Constitution. He can tell you the lineups of the St. Louis Cardinals and the Detroit Tigers when they played in the World Series in 1934.

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JEAN FLINT, Beckley: "So live that when thy summons comes to join the innumerable caravan that moves to the pale realms of shade where each shall take his chamber in the silent halls of death, thou go not like the quarry slave scourged to his dungeon at night, but sustained and soothed by an unflattering trust, approach thy grave as one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him and lies down to pleasant dreams."

She explains: About a hundred years ago, when I was a senior in high school (1945-46) our English teacher, Melrose "Higgy" Higgenbottom, assigned us "Thanatopsis." I learned a few lines, thought I could wing it (others were reciting a few lines and being excused). Didn't work! "And the next line is ...?" She gave me an F on my report card. I told her that was unacceptable and what could I do to change it? "Learn 'Thanatopsis,'" she said.

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ELIZABETH FRASER, Charleston: I can recite yards of A.A. Milne poetry because of my dad. I can do almost all of "James James Morrison Morrison." I really like that I can remember bits of poetry from my parents reading to me all those years ago.

I work at the library and know that lots of former Garnet High students can quote poetry galore thanks to Mrs. Norman. They call from time to time to remember a few words, but remember most of the poems by heart.

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BLAIR GARDNER, Charleston: Deborah Herndon writes in about her husband: He could recite the names of every president of the United States forward and backward in the second grade. His cousin (who was there) told me that he did this on the first day of second grade. ... He said that since they were United States presidents, he thought that they must be important people and he should know who they were. He is a lawyer, so is obligated not to cheat by writing them down to respond to you correctly or something equally inappropriate. He is proud of the fact that he can do this, but does not remember the grocery list.

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ROSEMARY HALE, Scott Depot: Something from grade school in Boyd County, Ky., that I remember to this day. Although I can't remember the title or author, my grandkids get a kick out of my recitation. None of the eight grandkids have mastered this ridiculous little ditty yet:

"Once there was an Elephant

"who tried to use the Telephant.

"No, no, I mean an Elephone

"who tried to use the Telephone.

"Dear me, I am not certain quite

"that even now I've got it right.

"How 'ere it was he got his Trunk

"entangled in the Telephunk.

"The more he tried to get it free

"the louder buzzed the Telephee.

"I fear I'd better drop the song

"of Elehop and Telephong."

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KAREN LOWERY HALL, South Charleston: For my English lit class during my junior year of high school, I had to choose a poem from our textbook to learn and recite. People who know me are never surprised to learn I chose "The Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carroll. Learning it was no chore -- the poem spoke to me. Plus, I loved the reaction it got from the rest of my classmates who were, for the most part, bored to tears by the assignment.

"The Jabberwocky" has remained with me. And on occasion (sometimes involving an element of tequila consumption), I will still launch into a rather dramatic recitation that has developed over time. I should probably record it so that it can someday be played at my funeral when the dear mome raths once again outgrabe. Carroll wasn't insane -- he just saw the world at a slightly skewed angle -- one to which I can relate.

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LYNN HARTZ, Charleston: My second-grade substitute teacher used to recite this all the time and I learned it from her:

"Little Orphan Annie's come to our house to stay,

"An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,

"An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,

"An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;

"An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,

"We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun

"A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,

"An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you

"Ef you

"Don't

"Watch

"Out"

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SALLY HAZLETT, Winfield: As a child I learned all of "Paul Revere's Ride." Also in my memory is Robert Frost's "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening." As a West Virginia history fan, I, too, can recite the 55 counties. At some point in my life I could recite most of "The Village Blacksmith," "Little Orphan Annie," as well as "The Wreck of the Hesperus."

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SHARON HEIDT, Charleston: When I was in about the fourth grade, our class was to perform a particular song for our spring concert: "Rain, summer rain, silver lady through the woodland shady, like a sigh passing by, light as drifting down." I think it stuck in my head so long because, as a 10-year-old, I thought of "down" as a direction, not as fluffy feathers.

As an English major, I took a semester of Chaucer, and our professor assigned 20 lines of our choice to memorize. I chose the beginning of the Prologue to "The Canterbury Tales" in Middle English, no less: "Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote; The droghte of March hath perced to the roote ..."

This professor was quite dramatic, in fact, he acted out swordfighting scenes on top of his desk. In his usual flair, he announced that he had not decided who would go first. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his change, tossed it on his desk, counted it, counted down in his grade book, looked straight at me, and said, "McGloshen, you're first." I was so glad to get that over with! But I still remember it ... well, much of it.

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CHARLEY HOWELL, French Creek. I had a right frontal lobe aneurysm rupture 26 years ago. I'm 60 years old now and as a result of a stroke I often can't remember what I did earlier in the day. Through it all I have remembered parts of the Prologue to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," first 10 lines in old English from 12th-grade English, and also much of poem "Barbara Fritchie," from eighth-grade history class.

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KATHRYN J. KAY, Charleston: I am 72 years old and learned "Abou Ben Adhem" in the ninth grade and remember parts of it well. My English teacher was memorable and I always think of her when someone asks, "What teacher had the most effect on you?"

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DAN KEHDE, Charleston: I'm not sure it's newsworthy, but I'm still pretty good at Hamlet's soliloquy and Frost's "The Road Not Taken," both of which I had to learn about 45 years ago while a student at Red Bank High School in New Jersey. God, am I really that old?

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JUNE C. JONES, Charleston: I can do "Paul Revere's Ride," "The Passing of the Back House," many Longfellow poems, "The First Snowfall" by James Russell Lowell, Phil Silverstein's "Sarah Sylvia Cynthia Stout who wouldn't take the garbage out ..." I, too, can recite the counties in West Virginia in alphabetical order. I was reared in rural Fayette County, starting in a one-room school and they believed in memory work.

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ELIZABETH KEARNS, South Charleston: I am 88 years young. I can recite "Maude Miller," by John Greenleaf Whittier, that I learned in eighth grade at Glen Jean Junior High School. I recited it at Oak Hill High School 50th reunion, class of 1940.

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JULIA MURIN LEE, Charleston: My earliest recitation requirement was set by our fourth- and fifth-grade teacher, John Montgomery, in Glenville Elementary School. It was the late 1950s and we were to learn the names of all the West Virginia counties in alphabetical order.

Believe it or not, I found that particular skill handy later on in my job at the West Virginia Department of Education whenever I compiled and sorted mailings to all the counties. Even though am I now retired, I still can recite the names of our counties.

For some unknown reason, I can still sing an old Pepsi-Cola commercial jingle: "Pepsi-Cola hits the spot. Two full glasses: that's a lot. Twice as much for a nickel, too! Pepsi-Cola is the drink for you!"

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CHERYL PLEAR, Dunbar: I can recite several scenes from "Macbeth" including Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking scene and the Three Witches' scene. I learned them in high school in 1967 as an assignment for extra credit and never forgot them.

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JEAN SCHUMACHER, Charleston: This was long ago, when I was in the eighth grade at St. Stephens Parochial Grade School, in Newport, Ky. Our teacher, Sister Hermina, was also the principal. She gave us an assignment to diagram a sentence. I had always loved diagramming because it made you think about the parts of speech and how they were used in sentences: the subject, predicate, modifiers, etc. Do any of the schools still do diagramming?

Anyway, I thought the sentence was so beautiful I learned it immediately: "A single sentinel was pacing, to and fro, beneath the arched gateway, which leads to the interior, and his measured footsteps were the only sound that broke the breathless silence of the night."

She never told us if it came from some larger work. I would like to read whatever that sentence was taken from, but I guess I'll never know. It's a miracle I still remember it since this happened in the late 1930s. (An editor's Google search let her know that the lines come from Longfellow's "Hyperion: A Romance.")

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SUE SHAFFER, Charleston: The Gettysburg Address. West Virginia counties in alphabetical order.

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DANNY SHELDON, Shrewsbury: What I can still recite are several lines from "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere," a poem about Columbus and quite a number of poems that I have personally written.

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DAVID SKEEN, Huntington: I can recite much of "The Grasshopper and the Ant" in French that I learned in the ninth grade. (I'm 61.)

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GARY SMITH, Hurricane: Forty years ago as a freshman at Marshall, I joined a fraternity and was required to memorize "The True Gentlemen" by John Walter Wayland. I can still recite that, as well as the greeting we had to give if we answered the phone at the fraternity house: "Through the grace of God and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell you have reached the hallowed halls of Sigma Alpha Epsilon, pledge Smith speaking, how can I help you?" Although I sometimes got it confused with the greeting I had to give at work back then: "Good evening, Gino's Pizza Parlor and Public Pub. May I take your order?" It didn't bother anyone at the fraternity if I gave the Gino's greeting, but if I was at Gino's and gave the fraternity greeting I usually got a hang-up.

"The True Gentleman is the man whose conduct proceeds from good will and an acute sense of propriety, and whose self-control is equal to all emergencies; who does not make the poor man conscious of his poverty, the obscure man of his obscurity, or any man of his inferiority or deformity; who is himself humbled if necessity compels him to humble another; who does not flatter wealth, cringe before power, or boast of his own possessions or achievements; who speaks with frankness but always with sincerity and sympathy; whose deed follows his word; who thinks of the rights and feelings of others, rather than his own; and who appears well in any company, a man with whom honor is sacred and virtue safe."

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SALLY SWISHER, Charleston: I can still to my amazement recite a poem my father taught me 50 years ago, "In Flanders Fields." My dad liked to memorize words, and he won the state oratory contest as a senior in high school, which would have been around 1927.

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KITTY THACKER, Charleston: Dell Binford writes in about Kitty Thacker, who'll be 100 years old this year and is an active senior member of Calvary Baptist Church. She can proficiently recite the poem "The Master Is Coming," which she learned when she was about 12 years old.

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DANNY WILLIAMS, Morgantown: Shelley, "Ozymandias"; Shakespeare's sonnet, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds," though I can't remember when or why I learned it; Arnold, "Dover Beach"; Auden, "Musee des Beaux Artes"; Hardy, "The Man He Killed"; Milton's "On His Blindness" (which ends "They also serve who only stand and wait." I often recite this silently while waiting for someone else to get their part of an operation done.)

The opening of "Paradise Lost," through the "unattempted yet in prose or rhyme" bit; The opening of "The Canterbury Tales," through the part about the "Holy blisful martyr"; "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow ..." from Macbeth -- I take no pleasure in this one, but Miss Perry lodged it in there pretty deep in 1969; The beginning of the "Aeneid," through "Tantaene animis caelestibus irae ..."

Probably a few other things. Cannot usually remember where I put my car keys.

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KIM VICKERS and BECKY BOSTIC, St. Albans: My childhood friend Becky and I were sitting around the picnic table a few years ago. The subject came up about songs we used to sing in grade school. We immediately started singing "Don Gato," which was in our fourth-grade songbook. Between the two of us we came up with all the verses and now it's not unusual for us to break out in a "Don Gato" medley when we are together. Of course, our other friends cringe upon hearing it. But it brings back wonderful childhood memories for the rest of us who sang this song every week in fourth grade!

Reach Douglas Imbrogno at doug...@cnpapers.com or 304-348-3017.