Inevitably, it had to arrive. Time to go back to school. Days full of swimming at Pounds Hollow and Moo and Cackle hamburgers had to end for the sake of academics. There was paper to purchase and pencils, and a box of Crayola Crayons for Art. Paste was essential, although I never understood why, and kids who ate it made me ill. The desk was neat. The compartment for holding all of your scholarly treasures was under the desktop, and it lifted on hinges. It provided a good place to hide from the teacher for short periods. The morning milk was the coldest I had ever drunk. You pulled a lever with a steel ball on the end as big as your fist. There was morning recess, noon recess, and afternoon recess. At times, the teacher threw in another recess for good measure.

A pretty little blonde girl sat across from me on my first day. Soon, I noticed a puddle under her chair, and the teacher asked her if she needed to go to the restroom. She did. Chet wore his hat to his desk. The teacher told him each morning to not wear his hat in the house and to hang it to the cloak room.

Neva J told me to give school a try and to see how I liked it. When I returned home from the first day, I said I had tried it and would not be returning. She said, ‘Oh, Kid, you will be going to school for a long time.’ I discovered she was right. Cursive was a big deal in school. Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, you will recall. We practiced our cursive a lot. Also, multiplication tables. All the way through 12 had to be known by heart. Memorization was stressed. I memorized The Night Before Christmas and quoted it often at family gatherings. Work at the blackboard was vital. We did some every day. I admired the teacher’s cursive on the blackboard.

It was hot as Hades on the playground when school resumed in August. The metal monkey bars could not be touched without burning. In those halcyon days, it was believed that cold air was good for kids and adults alike. So the monkey bars went from hot to icy.

The principal spoke to us from the intercom. Inspiring moments for young minds or Fuzzy Memories. It was through the intercom that the principal announced to us that President Kennedy had been assassinated. School stopped early, and I walked home. Neva J was crying. She loved JFK. I wondered if he was a member of our family. I watched the funeral on TV. I saw Lee Harvey Oswald being killed by Jack Ruby on live television. I was six years old and knew that there was more to the story than we were being told.

The War in Vietnam was on TV nightly. The death count was nightly. No one seemed to be for it. The poor boys sent to fight had no choice because of the Draft. President Johnson told us we were just around the corner from winning. Defense Secretary McNamra said the same. General Westmorland assured us that with a few thousand more troops we would have victory. Fifty-thousand sodiers died in Vietnam.