By Eric Stevick
Herald Writer
MONROE — Even in the first grade, his classmates noticed the skinny, freckled, redheaded boy had different math assignments.
By the sixth grade, he was enrolled in math classes at the high school.
After his sophomore year, he had exhausted the calculus curriculum.
The academic prowess of Alex Pagon, the youngest of four accomplished children, was legendary long before he entered high school.
"We were all aware of it," said Justin Kalmbach, a Monroe High School senior and childhood friend. "I think a lot of us were just silently amazed, but that was just Alex."
As kids, they would tunnel their way through the tall grasses in the farmland valley, lifting their heads up every now and then like prairie dogs. They would play soccer and explore the woods. But when they entered the classroom, Alex was clearly different.
Years ago, his brother, Garrett, now a Stanford University graduate and first lieutenant in the Air Force, told his junior high school teacher to watch for Alex. His younger brother was only in kindergarten at the time.
His oldest sister, Blye, who recently graduated from UCLA’s law school, made a similar prediction. "Mrs. Timmons," she told her high school English teacher eight years ago. "You might think I am so great, but wait until you have my little brother Alex."
Alex lived up to his siblings’ billing. The senior, one of five valedictorians at his school, is a National Merit finalist and the only Snohomish County student among the 500 national semifinalists for the President’s Scholar Program. He scored a perfect 800 on the math section of the SATs and 1,580 overall. Last year, the average national score was 1,019 on the Scholastic Aptitude Test, a golden key to college admissions.
Alex chose Stanford over Harvard and Princeton and will enter as a sophomore based on the nine Advanced Placement college-level courses he completed in high school. Three courses — two in upper-level calculus and one in economics — he had to create and pursue on his own.
He did so because he wanted to stay in high school and graduate with his peers, some of whom he started with 13 years ago as kindergarteners at Frank Wagner Elementary School.
"I’m just part of the class like everyone else," he said. "I wouldn’t say at any time I was different than the rest of the kids in my class."
Only, Alex was different.
"In 28 years I have taught here at Monroe High School, he’s the most outstanding student I have ever had," said Jim Skog, who teaches business and government classes.
Alex wrung the nectar out of high school. His letterman’s jacket reads like a manuscript. His peers voted him student body president. The faculty selected him to give a graduation address. He led his school Hi-Q academic team to the 23-team championship.
Eight days ago, he joined his teammates piling on top of goalie Ben Dragavon on the artificial turf in Everett’s Memorial Stadium after the Monroe Bearcats defeated Mercer Island High School to win the state AAA soccer championship. He savored the cheering crowd, his moment to hold the trophy and the knowledge that it would come back to his school. Many of the players had been teammates since elementary school.
"He is a high achiever, and he works hard, but he also has fun in his life," said Mike Weatherby, Monroe High School’s principal. "He enjoys being around other kids his age."
What strikes many teachers about Alex is not the magnum opus that is his resume but the ingenuity and risk-taking he used in crafting it. They describe a gifted and intrinsically motivated student more interested in gaining knowledge than perfecting a transcript, a man-child who gracefully remained true to himself and his convictions under the social pressures of high school.
"He is well-rounded, compassionate and kind, and not the least bit full of himself," said Jeri Timmons, his English teacher. "He could have left the public school system and done other things. He took advantage of what we offered."
To his English teacher, Alex personifies Atticus Finch, the gentleman southern lawyer in Harper Lee’s classic book "To Kill a Mockingbird." "You know how Atticus was quietly the town leader, constantly doing the right thing, having complete integrity, defending all. That’s Alex."
Last fall, Alex risked failure, venturing miles outside his comfort zone. He tried out for the school play and was given the role of Harry Turner, a drunk. Not only had he never acted before, he had never had a drink, either. His first attempts were laughable, but the producer gave him films to study, and he took notes.
"He was a very good drunk," Kalmbach said of his classmate.
Alex recognizes his good fortune. His parents are successful professionals. His mother, Bonnie Pagon, is a clinical geneticist at the University of Washington School of Medicine and Children’s Hospital and Regional Medical Center; his father, Garrett Pagon, runs a real estate business but found the time to coach his son’s youth soccer and basketball teams.
Alex comes from a family that still dines by candlelight in the winter, discussing everything from the day’s events to the anatomy of a kidney. It is a family that hikes and camps together for days and weeks at a time. Alex toted "A Tale of Two Cities" and "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" in his backpack when climbing the Rockies last summer.
Garrett and Bonnie Pagon dumped their old black-and-white TV in the 1970s, long before their first child was born. Alex grew up manipulating numbers on paper rather than clicking them on the remote control. He read newspapers, consulted encyclopedias and absorbed maps from the Roman Empire to modern day. He explored the outdoors on foot and bike.
His parents always encouraged him to make his own decisions, which is one reason he stayed at Monroe High School.
"He wanted to remain with his friends, and that was just fine with us," Garrett Pagon said.
Occasionally, the mailman brings Alex a reminder of responsibilities beyond tests, essays and athletic practices. The reminders come in the form of letters from an 11-year-old El Salvadoran boy. Alex’s $25 a month is helping Jose Cedillos eat, attend school and, perhaps, someday escape poverty.
Although translators are available, Alex chooses to write to him in Spanish. "I want to be more than a distant, faceless benefactor," he said. "I want to be a friend who relates to him in every possible way."
His perspective of the world is also shaped by the two weeks he spent under the August sun in a barren town near Tijuana, Mexico. Each day, he and four other volunteers helped build a wood-frame house for a homeless family.
"The families tearfully thanked us for a house the size of my bedroom," he said.
Alex doesn’t know exactly what he will end up doing for a career. For the moment, he is planning to major in chemical engineering and could add a second major in math or biology. He sees himself working in a lab, or pursuing medical advances by developing drugs or equipment to improve health care.
Long before Alex was born, Dr. William Gould was a tired, overworked resident at the University of Washington School of Medicine. Bonnie Pagon was the lone instructor to invite the interns to her home. He sensed, even then, that the Pagons were extraordinary parents.
Gould, whose wife, Marlene, once taught Alex at Marysville Junior High, watched from afar as Alex grew up.
"I can’t wait for 30 years down the road to see what contribution he makes for society, because it will be something great," he said.
You can call Herald Writer Eric Stevick at 425-339-3446
or send e-mail to stevick@heraldnet.com.
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