After moving to Lake Street Louis and I had to be enrolled in school. Dad drove us by the school which was about six blocks from our house. He suggested a route to walk and told us to take our transfer papers from Central with us. When Monday morning came I was a little unsettled about it but Louis said all we had to do was go inside and find the principal’s office. I tagged along after him and he handed our papers to Mrs. Grace Griffith who was the principal. She took us each to our respective rooms and told the teacher what our names were and after that we were pretty much enrolled.

My teacher was a Miss Joniffer who was young and very pretty. She had auburn hair and rusty brown eyes…..she wore pretty clothes and was nice. I liked her right away. She found the necessary books and materials for me and took me to a desk. Of course I felt terribly conspicuous and self-conscious. However, I had been moved around a lot and knew that in time it would all become routinely familiar. The lessons were never hard for me because I loved to learn and had a good memory.

By the end of the third school year we were established and had made friends. Shortly after school was out I went back to Blair for a good part of the summer. There was always Bible School for a couple of weeks and I liked that. My aunts always had a large part in teaching and planning. When we moved to Lake Street Louis and I walked to the nearest church in our neighborhood and attended Sunday School. It was a Presbyterian Church and on Sunday nights they had “C.E” which stood for Christian Endeavor. It was a good time of Bible games, relay games, things like that, and refreshments were always served. Some very nice people were in charge and we always felt welcome.

When school started in the fall I was assigned to Miss Turk’s room. She was one of the two fourth grade teachers. She was short and plump with a round face, short, straight dark hair that was shingled up the back and she wore glasses. The only thing I remember of any consequence in her room was one time someone had done something that was really bad…..just what or how bad I don’t remember. The thing I do remember is that she made the whole class stay in at recess time and I was broken hearted. I really looked forward to recess because I was very active and loved the activity it afforded. I can remember thinking how terrible it was to make all of us suffer because one person did something wrong. It made a big impression on me apparently because it’s the only memory I have in her class.

Fifth grade teacher was Beulah Browning. Louis had had Miss Turk and Miss Browning ahead of me so I was happy to have teachers that he had. The thing everyone knew about Miss Browning’s room was that above the blackboard she had handwritten the Preamble of the Constitution. Each morning we would all stand with our hands over our heart and say the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag and then read the Preamble. Doing that every morning we soon had committed it to memory and to this day most of it comes back when I stop to think. Those were the days when every school room had a flag and a picture of George Washington on the wall beside it. Those things that were so commonplace then are almost extinct now….anywhere. It’s a shame that so many feel being proud of our Country has passed being important or necessary. Miss Browning was a portly, older lady with a soft pink face and kind eyes. I learned a lot from her.

Beulah Adams was my seventh grade teacher. She looked like a “school marm” from the early 1900’s. She had known my grandmother Stricklett and seemed pleased to have me in class. She was our home room teacher and taught geography. I probably learned more about that subject from her than any one else. When there was extra time or we had been very good she would pull down the map, mention a country, and the student who was selected by her would come to the front of the room and with her pointer, name the country. By the end of the school year we also knew the capitals of the countries around the world. Now it has changed so that many of those countries have been absorbed into others and many of them are even pronounced differently.

Mrs. Ralya was my home room teacher in the eighth grade. She was very much the professional teacher and reminds me of Judge Judy. She was prettier and not sarcastic like Judge Judy but had much of the same quick thinking…..there was no fooling her. By the time I was in her room, the war was almost over and one day a new student was brought to our room. Her name was Frances O’Kura, and she was Japanese. Her family had been moved by our government to the Midwest from California and it was obvious she felt out of place. However, many American born Japanese were as patriotic as anyone and served well in defense of this country. Frances was an asset to our class and none of us treated her badly.

A few weeks before graduation from the eighth grade we moved to Missouri and so I missed the graduation exercises. Mrs. Ralya mailed a class picture to me after we had a new address. I was very sad that my picture wasn’t among my classmates………..

Now I would be in a new State and a new school and my life would take a very different path……..

Until tomorrow,

Essentially Esther