Friday, July 23, 2010

Grade school

So, I've been playing on a new FB page created by John Rubalcaba called "Chandler People". Wherever else I may have been, I am definitely and will always be Chandler People. Luckily, we're back in Chandler. Mom and I were looking through old pics and I found these. This one is from Mrs. Blocker's 1st grade class. Before she got married, that year, she was Celeste Celeste. I'm right up front in the red. I was always in front, because I was one of the shortest. One of my best friends was Shelly Hudson, and I'm pretty sure that is her behind me to the left in the yellow dress. She lived right next door to me. I also remember being friends with Lynn Row in the green on the right. She was always very nice. Monica Boles was in the purple gingham in the middle row. We both ended up at Knox School and often sat by each other because of the whole name thing. One day I opened up a Catsup packet and accidentally squirted her across the table. I don't think she ever spoke to me again. 1st grade was weird for me. I started school in 1974 when I was 4 at John Hancock Academy. When I moved the next year to public school, they wouldn't let me start 1st grade because I was only 5. Well, back in those days, kindergarten was where you played with play dough and colored for half the day. I had learned to read at the private school and so half way through the year, they moved me up anyway. I did love Mrs. Blocker. She made me feel very welcome in her class.
This was 3rd grade at Hartford. I think that Mom moved me over here because she liked the principal, Mr. Ethington. I am in the front row again, right behind the sign with my hair pulled back in a tight bun. (Thanks Mom) My best friend here was Heather Allen, front row, red skirt. One day on the way to school, she got hit by a car. I remember being very sad, especially that she was gone from school for so long. She was very seriously injured and lost about 1/2 of her blood supply, but she recovered well and came back to school. I actually student taught at Hartford when I was getting my degree. The secretary there remembered me (almost 25 years later) when I told her who I was. She said oh yeah, you're the one who wouldn't stop screaming when your friend got hit by the car. The teacher told the class what happened and you started screaming. We had to call your mom to come pick you up. The boy at the top, second from the left, was Ray. His Grandpa lived by us and worked for the farm. We would play when he came to visit his grandparents. I loved to chase him around the playground and kick him in the shins. That is how you show that you like someone, right?