Memory Monday-My School Years

I am joining Retired Not Tired for Memory Monday

I went to the same schools all through my early years. My elementary school was right at the end of my street.  In those days the buildings housed K to 8th grade and I started in the first Kindergarten, the first year the school had opened.  The school was renamed and re-purposed to a middle school in the 90's.  

James Madison Elementary School

Since it was so close to home, it seemed we were always on the playground. I still have friends from school, as we all graduated and went on to the same high school.  As I worked on this post yesterday I found a few more on Facebook.

My mom was very active with the school and was often on campus when a room mother was needed. Which was somewhat problematic, if we wanted to fly under the radar.

We were the first graduating class that went through all the grades at the school.  That week of graduation, many of us got sick with the measles (no immunization in those days).  I had come in second in the graduation speech competition and had to be ready to step in, I was so scared that I would have to get up in front of everyone and speak, but I dutifully practiced, just in case.  Thankfully, Tommy H. was well enough to give the speech and I was reprieved.  We were both sick with the measles the next morning, so our summer vacation started by feeling poorly.   

The teachers through the years, were good but I the one I had that year, was truly dreadful, many of my insecurities began here.  I wrote about it before, that it was a defining moment in my life.

"However, if one counts the teachers who had a negative impact on me, it would be my 8th grade teacher, Mr. Ginsberg, I even remember his name after all these years.  I was on the chubby side when I was 12 or 13, I also was developing my breasts and was self conscious.  I tended to stand around with my arms crossed over my chest.  He called me Buddha, all the time,  and I was hugely embarrassed.  I guess I could have objected now, but at the time, the late 50's, there was no political correctness or anti harassment. It was bullying pure and simple. I guess he thought he was being funny....Not!  He was a terrible person and should not have been a teacher." 

When we moved back to California from Michigan, the kids were still in elementary school. We stayed with my folks for many months while we looked for a house, so DD1, went to 4th grade at the school. It was a few years after that, when the rebuilding and re-naming happened.  Mom and Dad had nothing but traffic and parking problems as the school grew. More memories of these years here and here.

I went to High School at SGHS and have written about it several times. They were not my best years, only OK.  I wouldn't go back to high school again for a million dollars.

Whew! What Stinks? Memory Monday

Once again, it’s Monday, and time to join Judy @ Retired-Not-Tired for more memories.  This week we’re continuing our travels down the road entitled More Vacation Memories… Since I didn't participate last Monday mine is just..................
                                        
                                         Vacation Memories 
We always took camping vacations or vacations to Oklahoma to see our relatives when I was young. My brother and didn't have a lot of say about where we went, but we usually enjoyed ourselves.  I had been asking my mom and dad to take us to Yellowstone, for a long time because I really wanted to see Old Faithful.

When I was in high school (maybe freshman or sophomore), my parents finally took my brother and I to Yellowstone, one fine August. We were tent campers in those days, Mom and dad slept on an interesting platform in their 1958 Plymouth station wagon storing all the camping paraphernalia under that platform. They had a mattress cut down to fit the platform perfectly.  Bro and I slept in the tent.   We had to put all the food in the car every night to discourage bears.  That worried me just a little. The food was safe, but how safe were we under canvas? Earlier we saw a bear captured in a device that was going to take him further into the forest.

There is more in Yellowstone, than bears and Old Faithful and we would spend time every few days visiting many of the bubbling mud pots, paint pots and various geysers.  What no one had told me, was how badly much of Yellowstone smelled!  After a visit or two, I wouldn't leave the car to see another sulfur smelling hole in the ground. Dad spent the rest of the trip reminding me that, "You were the one wanting to go to Yellowstone."

Dad got in some fishing in and we got to see the beautiful Yellowstone Falls and I did get out of the car to see Ol'Faithful spout, I was somewhat disappointed, as the viewing we saw, was not as spectacular as the one above. 

Our visit was coming to a close when the weather turned cold, it was late August.  That next morning I wakened to mom furiously shouting orders to dad, so I stayed quiet to sleep in a little, soon I was jerked awake when the foot of my sleeping bag fell of my air mattress and soaked up freezing water that I was floating on.  When I yelled, Dad came and got me and carried me to the camp toilet and shower.  It had rained that night and somewhere around freezing that am, it started snowing in August in Yellowstone.  Mom and dad were packing up....every thing was soaking and we made a mad dash for a Motel and laundromat in Jackson Hole. The rest of the vacation was spent in Washington State and Oregon, on the way back to California. We dried the tent out at cousins, in Oregon.

I have had other vacations that have been more fun....but this was funny and memorable.

Christmas Surprises-Memory Monday

This week's prompt is: My Christmas Memories

I am doing a lot of online shopping this year in preparation for our trip to CA for Christmas with the kids and grand kids. I have a few surprises and Christmas is all about surprises.  Mom and dad were careful to hide the gifts well so that. 'Santa' would surprise us well.  When I was about 10, I was so hoping for a big bike.  I didn't think I could wait until Christmas morning so I snooped everywhere.  What I did not know, is that my wise parents hid it at my grandparents house until Christmas morning, so I came up empty. in my search for my hearts delight a five speed bike.

My Cousin, who lived with the grandparents. was in on the secret so I hounded him to tell me what he knew.  Eventually, he spilled and I was so happy. Until Christmas morning when there it was......a bike.....a beautiful bike! But I was disappointed because the surprise was...no surprise! That was when I learned that it wasn't so exciting to KNOW what you were getting for Christmas....and I never really snooped again. Surprise was an essential ingredient for Christmas gift giving.  

When I had girls of my own, I tried to instill the element of surprise. Especially when one of the girls was so unsubtle about searching, that she left the dining room chair, still in place, in the bedroom closet. There she had riffled through the top shelf, not so unsuccessfully, looking for loot. So I knew I had to be more creative in my hiding places.

So we were always the mom and dad, who had to make a trip to parents or friends homes, to pick up the Santa gift. Or else, Mr BC was staying up until two am..... to put the Glamour Gals Cruise ship together.....Oh, so many tiny parts and stickers for the walls. This was a good surprise that Christmas. 

I also remember the Christmas that, DD1 got her first big bike.  We did not put it next to the Christmas tree, but in the front hall.  Her face dropped so far to the floor, that I did believe she was surprised that she didn't get the expected bike. Her sister's little bike was there, but not hers. Oh, the disappointment, until she turned around to see she was not forgotten. I believe I should have said Gotcha! But I didn't. Christmas is meant for Great Surprises.

Friends in the 50's-Memory Monday

Come join retired-not-tired and me, with your own memories. Each week will be a different prompt to encourage the writing of your memories. Link your memories here and share them with everyone. 

                             Our prompt is: My First Friend

My first friend was Cheryl B.  We grew up in a post war, new housing neighborhood, in southern California. She had an older sister and brother and until my brother was born, I was an only child for my first 7 years. Cheryl was a year older than I and I think we started playing together when I was about 4 years old.  In those days there was no play dates and we were in and out of each other's houses all day long. We remained friends until I got to high school, then she had other friends. She left home later that year to live with her grandmother and transferred to another school.  I visited her once and then never saw her again.  I learned many years later, later that her father had abused her and her sister and that is why they left home.  She had never said anything about it to me, which I understand, as it was not talked about in those days. People in the neighborhood were not aware of what he had done until many years later, after he was dead. 

Memory Monday My First Home.

I actually posted about My First Home, HERE, last year.  My first home was my home until I married and I have fond memories of it.. 

Memory Monday

I really like the idea of recording some of my memories so I'm joining Judy @ retired not tired for Memory Monday and her prompts for jogging some of my memories. 
                          Our prompt is:  My First Memory

Like Romi @ In the Way Everlasting, so many of my memories are influenced by pictures, home movies and stories it is hard to know if those first memories aren't somehow influenced by those things.

I remember going to Sunday dinner at my grandparents house, always fried chicken. We were there every Sunday after church.  

I think my first true memory is of going to my cousin's first day of kindergarten and wanting to go with her so badly.  I had to wait for the next year.  During that year my elementary school was built at the end of our street and I remember watching the walls go up.  I was in the first kindergarten class.  That summer we got dressed up and went to the school office to register me.  That school remained a huge part of my life as we were on the playground during school hours and after.  When we moved back to California in 1982, we stayed for a while with my folks and DD1 went to 4th grade at that school.  It is still there, although it has been converted into a Jr High School.  I went there K-8.

I also remember going to Sunday School and Ruthie Pridgen was my teacher.  She was one half of an older couple, who were friends for years of my Mom and Dad, she always loved to tell the story of when we were asked to sing a song in class, and I sang a beer commercial jingle. We got our first television just before I started school.