Older and Fuzzier Memories

I tried the other year to remember something about every year in school, and I could only remember snippets of some years. My high school memories are scattered throughout this blog, but what about before that?

The first grade I remember because we were directly over the cafeteria at the grammar school and when they baked peanut butter cookies, it smelled so darn good. I also remember the “back” playground, the one down by Church Street. Mrs. Ross was my teacher.

The only thing I remember about the second grade is that it was on the 3rd floor of the school, right above the first grade. I honestly can’t remember who the teacher was.

The third grade a blank, except for being on the top floor at the front of the school. I think my teacher was Mrs. Isbell. Or was that 4th grade?

The 4th grade was on the first floor at the front of the school. Please don’t tell me I have the 3rd and 4th grade locations confused. Oh, and I remember getting sick all over my desk one day. Yuck.

For 5th grade, we moved to the Junior High. My class room was on the south end of the building, first door on the right and Mrs. Lawson was my teacher. I remember reading from the color coded books. As you got better at reading, the color of the books changed. Of course, I don’t remember the colors. That would be asking too much. It was also the year of my first, and only, spelling bee. I missed the first word.

In 6th grade, my teacher was Mrs. Williams, an extremely nice woman and a good teacher. It was also the fateful year the Beatles were on the Ed Sullivan show and everybody went gaga over them. Oh, and when President Kennedy was killed.

Seventh grade was when we first started changing classes. We were “teenagers”. We were on the north side of the building. The teachers were Mrs. Millamacki (?), Miss Maples and another teacher I don’t remember. Miss Maples was the wrong teacher to have around when puberty kicks in at full speed. She was also the last teacher to paddle me, and man could she hit hard!

Eighth grade was Mrs. White, Mrs. Galyon and another teacher I don’t remember. It was also the first year of segregated school.

There are obviously memories that I can't positively connect with a particular year, especially in grammar school, but I guess that's another post.

Memorial Day - 2012

We haven’t added anyone to this list this year and I’m happy about that. It’s still tough looking at some of them and being reminded of a store house of memories.

Wayne McNabb is the best friend I’ve ever had. Even now. I sat behind him in first grade and he put up with my crap for a long time. I can remember once in 7th or 8th grade we decided on the spur of the moment to skip school, so we jumped the fence behind the Junior High School and spent the day exploring the woods from Lover’s Leap to Matlock Bend. We couldn’t have picked a worse day. It was cloudy and cold and not the best day to be hiking in the woods. But at least it wasn’t school.

Right behind him then would be Allen McNabb. I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Wayne. Allen was the one who talked me into coming back from Atlanta after the ’68 year, and I’m glad he did.

I’ve known Pat Lowe most of my life too. When we were kids, we all knew that Pat had some medical issues, a hole in his heart or something like that, but he was still just as physical as the rest of us. I lost track of him at one point and didn’t run into him again until high school. He hadn’t changed much. He was one of the kindest, friendliest people I’ve ever known.

So was Larry Langford. He was another one of those lifelong friends. He had a red VW during high school and I remember one morning when we had 7 or 8 of us in that little car. The theme from Good, Bad and Ugly was playing on the radio. Somehow, it seemed appropriate at the time.

Freddy Lindsey was another longtime friend. His passing hit fairly hard, for two reasons. First, he wasn’t living that far away from me at the time (just below Memphis), and I didn’t know it; and then for being no older than he was.

Mike Delaney went way too young. He was always a bit of a dare devil, but a great guy. I knew him from the first grade. We had our differences, but I always thought him to be a good friend.

I knew Jimmy Brantley before high school, even though he lived in Philadelphia. The most vivid memory was a wooded hill behind his house, where he cleared a path down that hill and through those trees, and would jump in his wagon and take off down that hill. It was a wild ride, because the hill was steep and the trees were big and mature, but he did it over and over and wrecked his wagon all to hell.

At one of the reunions, someone made a comment about Patty Hicks, Sherry McMahan and Betty Scott, that they were always together. And it’s true. It’s just sad they’re together in this picture.

I didn’t know Lynn, Bobbie Jo, Doyle, Janie, Estes or Pat Rucker until high school, and while I didn’t know them that well, they were good folks.

We continue to miss them all.