Mr. Hall, principal at RHS, was a man of imposing physical presense.  Maybe in the vein of the cartoon character Herman, Mr. Hall was just a big guy all over.  Thusly we termed him "The Hunk".
 
When he spoke over the intercom he seemed to have a bit of a difficulty with taking a big breath after a long sentence, so you would hear a longer than normal pause between sentences with an audible inhalation.  It was something we mocked (obviously not when around him!).
 
From all I remember, Mr. Hall was fair and even handed.  He was "The Man" in our adolescent view at the time, so we didn't really think he was on our side.  In retrospect, it seems he did a great job.
 

As a teacher/coach I had many confrontaions with The  Hunk. When I first came to RHS in 1967 Coach Nelson told me the first chance you get chew him out and he will leave you alone.  My time came early during bb season when I came for practice and the sweetheart journalism teacher had begun taking pictures in the gym and said Mr. Hall approved it.  I hustled my skinny ass over to his office and politely gave him a few choice words to live by. Sweety Pie was removed from the gym never to return.
 
Here is one more Hunk story you will find in my book about my career.  Mr. Hall gave his usual before Christmas speech with heavy breating about only the Home Ec. could have a party.  All other classes would be a day of subject instruction.  Well Mrs. Dargenio  the chemistry teacher at that time  and I had already planned our party for that day. After the no party speech she came into my room and asked "Are we going to cancel our party?"  "No I told her we will call that bluff!"  
On that day our Xmas party is in full swing!  Our students had brought more goodies than you could imagine. Cake, ice cream, cookies, popcorn, sandwiches, to name only a few.  My stereo was booming out a WHO song with Roger Daltry blastin out "Won't get fooled again."  I was leaning back in my desk chair holding a piece of choclate cake aimed at my mouth when I heard my squeekie door slowly open.  The man stood looking at me with bulging eyes in his hands on hips pose. All I could think of to say was "Would you like a piece of cake?"  He turned ,without a word and stormed out the door.  
 
Did I get a repremand?  Did he hit me 20 times with the teacher handbook ?Did I get fired? Did he report me to the TEA? Did he chew my ass?  NO, nothing was ever said about the party.  I assumed my chewing his out years ago about the picture taking in my gym worked.
 
Hope you enjoyed this bit of Rohawk history.  Coach Scott

Mr. Hall was always Mr. Hall to us early 70's Ro-Hawks.  He was the ultimate figure of authority and respect.  I don't think any of us were brave enough to even give him a nickname when he was not in sight.  My story about him actually goes many, many years later, when I was in my mid 30's.  Penny and I owned a two story home in Northwest San Antonio at that time.  Our upstairs bedroom had a window that looked out over the backyard of our neighbor.  One spring day I happened to look out there and noticed a big dude pushing a large tiller through my neighbor's garden.  He definately wasn't my neighbor, so I decided the thing to do was enquire into who he was and what he was doing.  Entering my neigbor's back yard, who do I find but Mr. Hall.  It seems that he enjoyed gardening in his spare time and had begun tilling gardens to fund his own gardening habits. And that is the rest of my story on Mr. Hall.