The Wonder Years

It was the 1950's and the Cold War was getting colder by the minute. All Russians were the enemy, according to folks in my rural community. Fall out shelters were being built, and there was a feeling of uneasiness unless you were six years old and excited about starting school. All the troubles of the world were for the adults, not little folks like me.

Ready for my first sleepover with
a new friend in first grade.

Other than teaching piano lessons, the only outside job I remember Mom holding was playing the piano for a lady who taught tap and ballet in Columbia. We would go several days a week for about four hours at a time, and Mom would play while different little children came in and took their lessons. Because I could sing, I helped the others learn the songs. By 10:00 in the morning, I had already sung them a half-dozen times, so it wasn't a big deal.  I wanted to take lessons too.

Gulf Shores--we rented a house!

Money was tight, and Mom couldn't afford to pay out what she was taking home. I remember well one evening when Dad got home I overheard Mom talking to him about letting me have lessons. "Ned, she sits there all day with her mouth watering; she wants to learn the steps so badly. Can't we let her take for just a while?" And so my dancing career began and ended in the same year. Tap acceptable, but I was like a flying cow trying to be graceful enough for ballet.  Mom made my costumes: I was one of three little kittens who had lost their mittens; a cupie doll, and other assorted characters.  I wasn't the best dancer, but my costumes were envied by all.  She would go to the cloth shop and buy remnants in all sorts of fancy fabrics. It was like she was making doll clothes, only I was bigger. Who had time to worry about Communism when you had shuffle-ball-steps to remember

Back to kindergarten, what kindergarten? We started first grade cold turkey. There were no half-days, you were expected to "deal with it". Miss Hayes, our first grade teacher, was a fixture of the school. She had taught my brother, and 12 years later would teach my little sister. She knew where all the bones were buried in my family.

Learning to read was fascinating, and I couldn't get enough of it. New friends were an adventure too. With no daycare experience, being with 20 other people my age was brand new and took some getting used to.

The one bad memory I have of first grade was being forced to drink milk at morning break. Didn't like milk then, don't like it now, and almond milk is a gift from heaven for my cereal each morning. In second grade the milk wasn't mandatory, and that made me an even happier girl.

The neighborhood gang: from left to right front row
Diane Lee, Betty Webb, Doris Jean Kelly
2nd row, Jimmy Dial, Charles Dial, Hal Denton, Ray
Cherry and Joe Kelly; 3rd row, Audrey Poarch
Faye Kelly, and Della Pearl Davis.

I can still remember the smell of that first grade classroom; the pencil shavings, the oiled wood floors, the sour milk and the books. We gathered in the auditorium for chapel where my Mom sometimes played "The Washington Post March" or "Under The Double Eagle". It was so cool to be in the same room with seniors! At Culleoka,  all 12 grades were in the same building in 1958.

Kids were kids then as now. The worst that ever happened at school was a high school kid getting caught smoking in the bathroom. In elementary, we had to be sure to avoid any behavior that led to a spanking because we knew we would get the same at home. Teachers were and always will be my heroes. As a matter of fact, anyone who can tell me something I don't already know earns a brownie point with me. 
Every era has its good and bad, but the memories of my early school years are some of the best I have. When you reach my age, you wish life could be so simple again.