When I think of my childhood, I always think of the period of time when I was in the first, second, and third grades. My parents and I and sometimes my grandmother lived in a village of 500 folks in NE Ohio 5 mi. north of Warren. I started school there and had some very exciting times, in a 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade sort of way. I was very happy as a child even though I was very sickly. I had old fashioned pneumonia three times in the 3rd grade. My mother had been a teacher so she tutored me at home so that I wouldn't lose a grade for being absent so much.
When I turned 50, I decided that probably I knew a few things that kids today have no idea about...not that they need to, mind you. So, I wrote a few short stories about my life in those magical three years thinking that I might publish them someday (that was a good many years ago). But the point of this post is that on December 20, David and I took a ride back to Cortland, the scene of my "childhood years".
I had not been there for (gasp) 60 years!! Yikes!! I'm sure the calendar is wrong, I'm not that old.
Anyway, we drove into the town, which is considerably larger that pop. 500 now, and it even has its own strip mall....maybe two. I began looking for houses that looked familiar to me....no luck. We finally found the "down town" area. I found buildings that may have been the drug store, the post office and the hardware store where I bought (one day at a time) seven Easter chicks and took them home after school one by one. (That's one of my stories) But they were no longer used that way. I couldn't find my school either although I thought I knew the general part of town where it was.
We finally stopped at the new (x2) Post Office. I walked in and started talking to the first person I found who had gray hair.
"How long have you lived here?", I asked.
"Oh, about 20 years, I guess," he answered.
"Well, you're way too young," I grinned. He smiled back so I knew he may be a font of information for me. He told us how to find the school (it was where I thought it should be) and said that it was going to be torn down next year because there were no funds to keep it going...very sad.
We followed the fellow's directions and voila, we found my old school.
When I went to school there, all 12 grades were also housed there. Now it's only an elementary school in a consolidated system.
I used to enter through the right corner door. The big addition on the right (you can see only a small piece of it) was not there when I attended. It gave me the most wonderful feeling to see the school. I recognized it immediately as we turned the corner and approached. I jumped out and took lots of pictures.
Then, after getting my bearings by being at the school, I could remember where Daddy used to park to let me out and to pick me up after school. I could remember what turns I took to walk home the few times I walked home on my own. I directed David where to turn and sure enough, we found ourselves in the "down town" area and from this new angle I knew where to turn to find my old house.
I was so excited!!
But I'll leave the rest of this little story for my next post.
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