Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to tell us all one story about your grade school years. Elementary, K-8, whatever it's called these days. . .you know, those years when you looked forward to your next birthday because it got you so much closer to being an actual teenager!
This is the elementary school I attended from the second half of second grade until the end of eighth grade. Mrs. Owsley and Mrs. South, you gave me a good start at Lynnevale, but good ol' Howevalley will always be my grade school. Miss Wimp, Miss Williams, Mr. Cantwell, Miss Mattingly, Ms. Howard, Coach Gardner, and finally ______________, thanks for all the shepherding and teaching and memorymaking. Good grief, I can't believe I just blanked on who was my eighth grade homeroom teacher. Was it Coach Gardner for seventh and eighth? Mr. Kral for homeroom and science and math? Mrs. Berenbroick? Mr. Roe (I think that was a new teacher's name from that last year?)?
PURPLE AND GOLD 4-EVER!
My kids get tired of hearing Howevalley stories. They can read aloud just like a certain kid would do in fifth grade, syllable by excruciatingly monotone syllable in an effort to test the teacher's patience. They've driven by Howevalley and seen the way the playground is nowadays. They know Mom had to ride the bus to school. I think they know better than to tape their spelling word list to classroom window shades, and I think they know about my favorite teachers. They know about the slyly shaken up coke can that Miss Wimp kindly opened for a sneaky kid at lunch one day. They know we played lots of softball for P.E. and recess in fourth and fifth grades. They know dodgeball with the old fashioned red rubber balls was a real contact sport, LOL! I bore them to tears with all the reasons I loved school. . . so howzabout some of your stories?? Come on, you know you want to tell us!