Celebrating 78 years leaves columnist introspective, hopeful

Who would have thought?

I remember like it was yesterday the day I went into Mrs. Young’s first-grade class at Stevens Elementary. She was so sweet and nice.

I also remember the next year. That would have been going into Mrs. Shoemaker’s second-grade class. She hated me. I guess it was because I sat in the back of one of the rows and threw chalkboard erasers at her when she turned her back.

I wasn’t cut out as a baseball player and couldn’t hit her with the eraser no matter how hard I tried. Although she had no trouble hitting her target when she paddled me. She had zero sense of humor.

It did get better. Third grade was Miss Kirkpatrick. I could’ve married that lady. She was so nice to me. I couldn’t bring myself to even think about tossing an eraser.

One day she asked me if I thought she was fat. I don’t recall what prompted this conversation, but it was in jest. Well, I responded that I thought she was pleasingly plump. That was my first attempt at being diplomatic. It must have been a good try, because I bumped into her sometime after college and she reminded me that I had once described her as pleasingly plump.

By fourth grade, I was calming down and a little more in control.

Then the school transferred some of us who lived on the borderline between elementary schools to another building. I was assigned to King Street Elementary. Well that broke my heart, because I was secretly in love with a girl in my fourth-grade class.

Fifth grade at King Street was a bear, or rather the teacher was a bear. Miss Barbour took out her frustrations on me. Really. I didn’t deserve what I got.

For example, I soon forgot about the girl in fourth grade and fell in love with a fifth-grade girl. She was a cute little blonde. The problem was that she didn’t share my sentiments and made it her business to kick me during recesses.

Finally I got tired of it and one day when she kicked me, I grabbed her ankle and lifted it up to protect myself. This action caused her to fall on her butt and rip her underpants on the rough macadam.

As you could expect, she cried to our fifth-grade teacher — the one who hated me anyway — and I got in trouble.

Actually, after recess, when everyone was back in class, Miss Barbour called the girl who had been kicking me to the front of the class and asked her to show everyone her torn underpants. Yes, she did, and, yes, she did.

Then the teacher made me go to the front of the class where she walloped me with a paddle. Oh, there were other instances as well where Miss Barbour did what she could.

Somehow I survived and made it to sixth grade. Mrs Tyner was a gift from heaven. No more paddling. No more treating me as the devil I could be. She was respectful and kind.

A place to celebrate:Is downtown Chambersburg ‘more exciting’ than ever? Here are the details

Mrs. Tyner did everything she could to build within me the character, self assurance and caring that has served me well ever since. She was a master educator and a wonderful human being.

After sixth grade, my life went on. Junior high school, senior high school, Dickinson College, and my business career. So many ins and outs, ups and downs, good times and not so good times, year after year, until I finally landed here.

And where is here? It’s my 78th birthday.

Growing up, I always felt that I wanted to be 42 years old. I’m not sure why. I recall feeling that by then I could be independent. Well, 42 years have come and gone, and now I’m more than three and a half decades beyond that. I’m looking forward with hope that I have many years ahead of me.

Of course, in retrospect you could look at all these past years and say I contributed little of importance. I am not in a history book. I haven’t reached many of my lofty goals. Much of what I have accomplished has not been necessarily altruistic, but rather out of wanting to feel good about myself and how I influenced others.

I don’t know when my number will be up, but at the age of 78, while I’m healthy and fit, it’s clear that I’m closer to the end than the beginning of my life. So, if I were to succumb to the coronavirus or some other disease, I would, nonetheless, feel that I may have had a good run, but I am leaving so much undone.

I’ve lived a full and fulfilling life. My heritage has presented me with some enormous challenges. Yet I have bumped into amazing people who have shown me the way to overcome these hurdles, consistently landing on my feet. So many people were there to cushion my numerous falls and failures.

On the other hand, as I take stock in my life and list my successes, I would have to list my loving wife at the top of the pile. She cares deeply for me, and demonstrates that love in everything she does. I do not deserve her caring but am grateful for it. Then there are my children and others who I love and who love me.

Source link