I was recently reunited with old elementary friends thanks Facebook. Many things I had forgotten and many of which I hadn't, are coming back in a rush; the gate to those memories are not just opening, but crumbling, falling to the ground fast, as if a barrage of boulders had been shot at them, shattering the old wood in tiny fragments as those dusty memories rush out. Life is an experience of memories, good and bad. There are some we want or choose to remember and there are those we want or choose, or can't forget.
For me, my elementary years were the best. But things do change. We go on, as I did. Junior high always follows elementary. Here is where my friends and I started to drift. We joined another world and were immersed into new things and new people. This is why I think I despised junior high, though my ego enjoyed the adage of age and being superior to those of the lesser grade. High school was a different matter. Freshman year warranted no different feelings than those bestowed from me in junior high, but my last three years were better, maybe because we moved and I was in a smaller school and everyone knew each other. All or most all of them had been together since elementary.
But the reason for this blog is my love for a time and place that has and will always hold a large piece of my heart: Oak Grove Elementary, the teachers, and most importantly, the kids who were and still remain to me, my friends.
Oak Grove was a small school. One teacher and classroom per grade, with the exception of fifth which had to be split between fourth grade teacher and sixth grade teacher. To go in meant you took the stairs up for classes, or down to where the kindergarten, bathrooms and the janitors closet was, or down again into the basement where all lunches, school assemblies, school plays, and raining outside p.e. were held.
Recess consisted of swings on either side of the building, a pole to twirl around by your knee, and a big shed where dodge ball and kick ball were held. And, we mustn't forget where the girls chased the boys. There was a large field that we walked the gravel road to, just a hop and a skip. At the very end was a large oak tree that we had to run down to and run back and to the left side of the field where more trees that we used for boundaries for a good game of dodge ball.
Friends were always there. I'm sure arguments were too and a few tears at those who were displeased with me at the time or maybe I was displeased with them. Third grade was a time when I found out I was adopted and not really my mom's child, but I was. Blue Birds and Camp Fire, and candy sales. Protecting a spider from the mean old boys, buying hot dogs at the seven 11 across the street. Cindy Morlan made the best mean witch of Hansel and Gretal our sixth grade year and lying on the basement floor coloring my drawing on a poster board, I think of a gingerbread man for the back drop of that play. Singing Christmas songs, yes Christmas songs, for the Christmas assembly and then again for our parents later that evening. And the Christmas tree decorated all nice and pretty. The library in the back of the stage, which really miffed me when I wasn't allowed to read older books, even though I could read about anything well. You see, I loved to read. You couldn't find a single book about horses that I hadn't read. I sat at the back in the first grade and could see into the sixth grade if I looked through the door. Sitting in the middle of the floor upstairs watching television (Captain Kangaroo) until school began, which I think was 8:15. And then there were the open houses with cake walks, movies in a room for five cents and put someone in jail, which I can remember we put Barry Kise in once. So many memories and more I am sure to follow as I and the other Oak Grove alumni converse. I am very thankful that my sixth grade teacher, Mrs Kraft, had us make memory journals. I have two since I was in her class both the fifth and sixth grade. I opened them and read with a smile many things which I have not put here. Best friends and friends.
Now, I am married and a working mother of four, a hopeful author and a sometime blogger. I have been blessed with many memories, good and bad, and I don't see that anything will change in the future, there is still more to come. Isn't that what life is all about? But first grade through sixth grade are the years that I smile and remember with a full heart. Bless you all my elementary friends.
