Too many to mention really.
I had a great time at school (when I caould be arsed to show up) and always tried to get a lot from whatever lesson I was in. Woodworking teacher caught me smoking one time, shouted 'YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!!!' an proceeded to show me advanced smoke-ring techniques. During a fire practice.
My favourite teacher, though, was Mr B. He taught music (the only lesson I religously turned up to, if I ever missed a music lesson it was kind of like Frank Gallagher going missing on Giro day). He gave me tips on arranging, composing, playing, conducting...you name it.
The best thing I can remember is when the school swing band was picked to play in the Daily Telegraph Jazz Musician of the Year, meaning a trip down to London. Wahey! A bunch of 14-17 year olds, all good mates, down in the big smoke for a weekend.
First night there, he got us all lost in Chinatown. Decent experience, condsidering we had all had a glass of wine or two at the restaurant we had gone to.
On the way back to the hotel, he collared me and said 'Look, General, I've had to put you in a room on your own, that OK?' Which was fucking fine by me. And the bottle of wine I'd brought. Unknown to me, he'd put the fit as fuck lead sax player in the room next door. By herself. And everyone else was on the floor below.

As a 15 year old that's pretty much awesome.
Next morning (after my first ever BJ and sexual experience) he collared me and said 'All relaxed for the big day then?' with a massive conspiratorial wink.
We went on to win an award and was asked to do loads of stuff after that. Unfortunately I've not seen the sax player since I left school but I wonder what she's up to now...
But as for the teacher, Mr. B: Awesome, inspirational and up for a beer at any time. What more do you want from a teacher?
(General Lee, Thu 17 Mar 2011, 13:30, Reply)