Freshman English at Pikeville High School meant two things: William Shakespeare and Layne Tackett. The former, you would study. The latter would study you. Mr. Tackett was intimidating for such a small man. He was wiry, but in a mountain man, don’t-mess-with-me kind of way. His graying, dark beard hid either a smirk or a smile and there wasn’t much between the two. As one student read a passage, Mr. Tackett would wide-eye over…