I think I've probably mentioned before that my parents both worked in education. My dad was the principal at a rural K-8 school, and my mom taught second grade at another rural K-8 school. The rural schools didn't offer preschool back then, so I stayed with my Grandma Horn and Uncle Gene until I reached school age.
When it came time to start Kindergarten, my parents decided to send me to Fairview, where my mom taught. Their Kindergarten program was a half day. I would go to the afternoon class. I spent my mornings at Grandma's farm, and Uncle Gene would drive me to the Moose Lodge to meet the noon bus to school. Just a couple of memories about this... Uncle Gene's truck smelled of dirt, hay, and cow crap, but I loved riding with him. There was always some old baling twine laying around in the seat, and he had an old bluish green coin purse that hung from the rearview mirror. It had a creepy kind of face on it. In the glove box, you would find a wide assortment of band-aids, mostly Curad brand. We didn't care about seatbelts and rode with the windows down and my hand, or even head, hanging out to feel the wind. My teacher's name was Mrs. Renfrow, and I liked her very much. I had a problem pronouncing the letter "s" and had to take speech classes with Miss Parker. I can remember having to read stories about Sis the snake. One day, Michael Wilkerson brought me a bouquet of dandelions. I hated nap time and couldn't wait until snack time, chocolate milk and graham crackers. I'd end my day by going to my mom's room. She had a great group of kids that year, and they were all so nice to me. I remember Robbie Crites, Jimmy Hatten, Denise Brentlinger, Katy Holstein, Tina Summers, Suzanna Hand, and many more. I still know many of them today.
First grade brought about my move to Glenwood, where my dad worked. Mrs. DeShazo was my teacher. I'm just being honest when I say that I didn't like her much. I grew to like her when I got older, but she was no Mrs. Renfrow in my book back then! She didn't smile much, and I thought she didn't like me. I remember very little about that year. Only a couple of things stand out in my memory. Matt Day's Dolly Pops. They were these little hard plastic dolls whose clothes could be changed by popping them off and on. Us girls loved playing with his Dolly Pops. I remember them going missing once and being found behind a toilet in the girls' bathroom. I never did know who put them there. Somewhere around the summer between first and second grades, I remember going to swim at Bidwell Point with my family. The cutest boy in my class was there with his family. There were three boys in the family, and they had a little bitty motorcycle that they were riding around down there. I can remember Chad being a little freaked out when my brother took his leg off to get in the water. I think he thought it was kinda cool and kinda scary all at once. It was no big thing to me. I'd never known any other way.
I loved second grade! Mrs. Bridges was awesome. I always did like a teacher that could be strict but fun, too. She was also beautiful. She had the longest shiny hair. I can remember her telling us that she used beer to rinse her hair every once in a while. She taught us about con-quack-tions with little paper ducks on the door to the room. People misusing contractions still drives me crazy to this day. I think it's because she taught us how to use them so well, and I think everyone should know how. Mrs. Bridges contacted my mom that year to tell her that I was spending too much time staring at a certain boy in class. What can I say? I've always liked boys. I never had an aversion to them. Since my mom taught second grade at Fairview, and I was in second grade at Glenwood, we started a pen pal exchange between the two classes. I would deliver the letters between the two teachers. At the end of the year, my class went to Fairview to meet the kids we'd been writing to all year. The two classes kept up this tradition for many years to follow. My dad resigned as principal the year before and took a job as the remedial reading teacher, so Mr. Walden was our principal. He had suffered with polio as a kid and had one arm that was much smaller than the other.
Third grade brought about the rehiring of my dad as the principal. Miss McCoy was our teacher. She was a stern teacher, and I loved her, even if I did receive my one and only C+ that year in Science. She had lived all over the world and told the most fascinating stories about all of the places she'd been. Every kid looked forward to third grade for one main reason, the circus! The third grade always got to go to Springfield and watch the circus. Now, I never was a big fan of the circus, but I loved a field trip. I'll never forget my friend, Cindy, asking if a quarry along the way was Mt. Rushmore! Ummm, no. I remained close to Miss McCoy. Two friends and I went to stay the night with her a couple of years later. We had so much fun at her house! I think we played like we were the characters from Miami Vice. No, Miss McCoy didn't play with us.
Mr. Bridges was my only male teacher in grade school, and everyone thought he was the coolest cat around. He drank pop all of time (Pepsi) and loved to play games. What kid wouldn't love that? We played eraser tag, heads up 7 up, and did a little dance to learn that 6 times 7 is 42. No kid that ever had him as a teacher could forget that. We were always rewarded with pop, and he'd even let kids burp the alphabet while drinking soda. Everyone called him Mr. B., and he called all of us by our last names...Miss Arnold, Miss Easter, Mr. Collins, Mr. Fisher, etc. He was entertaining. Tragedy struck our school that year, though. A seventh grader was accidentally shot and killed while deer hunting. It was awful. Blake Gunter. He lived not far from me. I'd spent the night with his sister a few times. He was a super smart boy and wanted to work for NASA. He'd even been to Space Camp!
Fifth grade was a little unsettled. I loved our teacher, Mrs. Newton, but she was sick a lot that year and missed several weeks. Mrs. Joy filled in for her and was also nice. Her son, Nick, was in the grade above us. Two things stand out from this particular year. Mrs. Newton awarded tickets all through the year for various good behavior and accomplishments. At the end of the year, she had a white elephant sale. We could shop with our tickets for all kinds of odds and ends. I loved it! A much sadder memory from that year came in January 1986. The Challenger space shuttle exploded with a teacher, Christa McAuliffe, on board. I remember watching it.
Sixth grade is probably the least memorable of all for me. I've sat here trying to think of anything remarkable from that year and can't come up with anything. Our teacher, Mrs. Cash, had a baby and missed several weeks of school. I will say that the summer between sixth and seventh grades was awesome! I spent every day at my friend, Diane's, house. My mom was taking courses in Springfield to complete her master's degree, so my dad would take me to work with him so that I could walk over to see Diane. We ate plain macaroni with butter and grilled cheese sandwiches every day. We were boy crazy and fearless. We spent hours and hours talking on her red phone to boys we knew and boys we didn't know. KKDY was always playing on the radio, and we were recording mix tapes right and left. Our friend, Stephanie, joined in at least a few days every week, too. Diane's mom was very easily swayed and took us just about anywhere we wanted to go. For some reason, I just remembered her mom singing Chantilly Lace. Oh, Francie was a hoot!
Mrs. Scherff made seventh grade quite memorable for several reasons. First, she had this trick knee that was liable to pop out of place at any given moment. That made for a couple of interesting times in class. Secondly, she was a "hands on" science teacher. This meant that kids could bring in just about any kind of critter they found to share with the class. I can remember tarantulas roaming freely and jumping from desk to desk. I also remember a black snake being allowed to slither around on the floor while we all sat in the floor to form a circle. Seems like it started to crawl up one kid's pant leg, even. Mrs. Scherff also was a big game player. I can remember one geography game where we had to stand at the front of the room with the big map pulled down and had to locate a certain place on the map as fast as possible. Jamalee successfully found whatever mountain range she was given, but Blake couldn't find his place. He announced to the class that he knew where Jamalee's mountains were! We all got a big laugh out of that. Mrs. Scherff was also my cheerleading coach, and I loved everything about cheering that year. Marilyn and I spent countless hours practicing and inventing different stunts to do. The last thing that stands out about Mrs. Scherff was her singing. Anytime we were on a bus for any reason, she would sing. My favorite was Sippin' Cider. She had a beautfiul voice.
Eighth grade concluded my years at Glenwood. Mrs. Waggoner was our teacher. I also went to church with her, so I'd known her for years. I think our class was very challenging to her. We had a few troubled boys that would have driven any sane person crazy. I remember that she had a quote in her room that read, "Good, better, best. Never let it rest, until your good is better, and your better is best." By this point in school, all I could think about was getting to high school. I loved my class of eighteen, but I was ready to meet new people and get out from under the watchful eye of my dad (no offense, of course.) I think it's sad now. If only I could have seen with the eyes I have now, I wouldn't have wished away those years for anything. Why was I in such a hurry to grow up? Adulthood is WAY overrated. I know it's natural for kids to want to grow up fast, but I would give just about anything to go back and be that little kid, again. Every once in a while, when the days are warm and windows open, I get a whiff of something in the air that takes me right back to those cherished days with my friends. I couldn't explain the scent if I had to, and it's always fleeting, but I feel it most often around the time of year when school is ending and summer begins.
Listen to Sippin' Cider here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSgHpAOOYR4
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