Mrs. Garrison was my first grade teacher. She was a nice lady from what I remember. I went to Wingate Elementary, the old school building which was torn down and built anew in the 80’s. Mrs. Garrison was a short lady. We used to take naps everyday. We would bring our blankets and lay them out on the floor. I remember that Mrs. Garrison would walk around us to make sure we were okay. I remember one time looking up her dress as she walked over me. She was old and in those days ladies wore girdles and individual hose leggings. The leggings were held up by straps. I remember opening my eyes and she was just walking by. I saw up her dress and it was a frightful thing. It looked like some kind of a contraption up there and a lot of it. It was freaky. I didn’t understand what it was all about. It seemed like it could have hurt or was a lot to go through to put on when nobody could see it.
Another memory of first grade was the time when I had to go to the bathroom, but was afraid to tell Mrs. Garrison that I had to go. I wet my pants. I wet so much that it made a puddle in my desk and then began to spill over on the floor. Our one-piece desks were sort of cupped in the seat. I urinated enough to fill it up and make a good mess. It was incredibly embarrassing. It is amazing that fear of man was already active in my life and my life had hardly gotten underway.
I also remember saying the pledge of allegiance and we also prayed during class. I do remember watching the World Series in my first grade class. It was a major event and they set up a TV and we watched it. That was cool.
I rode a bus up until the time when I got my license to drive. It was for the most part an unpleasant experience. It was more times of hardship, fear, boredom and frustration than fun. When I think of what I went through as a kid at that young of an age I cringe. I would not want to put that on anyone, especially my own kids. My early life was a bitter experience.
I have no idea what my grades were like, whether it was hard or not and whether I tried or not. All of that is vague to me. I do remember liking the idea of school. It was a temporary escape from a disappointing home life. However, school began to be frustrating as I went into the second grade. It became hard and the fun was slowly slipping away.