Some People Have Bridges or Roads Named After Them

Maybe someday I will get a sidewalk named after me.

I have some very vivid memories from my two years in Sister Dolorita's 1st/2nd grade classroom at St. Thomas. I will tell you about the most vivid memory, but first, here are a few that are near the top of my list:

5. Learning to use an abacus. This was before calculators, of course. When kids today ask me why they need to learn a certain math skill that they are convinced they will never use in real life, I like reminding them that I once learned to add and subtract on an abacus. Check-mate.

4. Watching intently as Sister Dolorita lit 3 matches and carefully merged them into a single flame to help explain how the Holy Trinity is one God, but 3 individual parts, just like the one big flame was made up of 3 individual flames. Anything burning tends to leave a lasting impression. That was the closest I would get to being allowed to play with fire until I became an altar boy.

3. Sitting in the corner of the classroom listening to Sister read Flat Stanley and another story about making a wish when you blow away a fallen eyelash. During a recent visit, I noted that the corner of this particular classroom is still reserved for reading time.

2. Being asked to stay after school to help Chrissy Cain clean up her messy desk. Apparently, I kept a very neat desk and served as a nice example for the other kids. That's ironic, considering that I probably have the messiest desk in the whole office now.

To finish ahead of those memories, you might suspect that #1 would have to involve some bloody traumatic event. You would be correct.

The fastest kid in 2nd grade was Andy Serio. Heck, I would put him up against any 3rd or 4th grader too. He was that fast. In a town full of Germans and Irish, Andy was unique because he was Italian - except he wasn't Italian. He was quick to point out that, in fact, he wasn't Italian, he was Sicilian. Throughout grade school, if you wanted to make Andy mad, just tell him "Italian? Sicilian? What's the difference?."

One day at recess, Andy was running down the sidewalk that paralleled the 1st/2nd grade classroom. When I say "paralleled", what I really mean is that it ran right up alongside the building. Today's ADA requirements would never allow such poor design. So, Andy is streaming down the sidewalk, either racing someone or chasing some kid who just called him Italian........just as I opened the door to join recess. Andy slammed into the door, cutting open his head. He sat on the sidewalk, blood streaming down his face, while the other kids pointed out to him who had opened the door.

Andy recovered from his injuries. He remained the fastest kid in the class for as long as I can remember, and we remained friends....sort of. Just like every year, all the kids in the class exchanged photos after picture day. I still have the one that Andy gave, with his personalized message on the back.

Not too many years later, they removed that hazardous sidewalk and replaced it with one that was three feet further west, clear of any opening doors. I would like to think that somehow I played a part in making St. Thomas a safer place by causing the events that led up to that sidewalk being rebuilt. Here is a picture of it from last summer. If you look closely you can see a sign commemorating my time there. When I die, I am going to leave enough money to the school that they can erect a real sign, one deserving of the blood that was shed by Andy Serio.

My Life of Crime

My life of crime both began, and ended, when I was in the 3rd grade.  Just like today, back in the 1970s, Saturday morning cartoons were filled with commercials for cereals and toys.  Honeycomb, Frankenberry, Lucky Charms - my breakfast eating habits were shaped largely by television.  The number of cereal commercials was exceeded only by the number of toy commercials.  G.I. Joe with the Kung-Fu Grip was a favorite of mine.  But I remember none better than the ones for TV Magic Cards.

Even now, watching that video, I am amazed at how Marshall Brodien - Professional Magician was able to do those tricks.  I was mesmerized, and I would have given anything for those magical mysterious cards.

One day in 3rd grade, as luck would have it, Frank showed up to school with an authentic deck of TV Magic Cards.  During recess, he did his best Marshall Brodien impression and wowed us with a couple of tricks.  I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how I would get my hands on those cards.  It turns out that wasn't such an impossible task.  Leaving the classroom that day, I noticed that Frank had left the deck of cards in plain sight, just inside his desk.

I stuck the cards inside my H.R. Pufnstuf lunchbox and scurried on home.  As soon as I got home, I ran downstairs to uncover the secret of the TV Magic Cards.  I was a little disappointed when I learned the cards held no real magic at all.  They were just cards that had mismatched faces and partial markings so that if you held them a certain way, you could fool someone into thinking they a certain card.  Hold a card one way and it looks like the ace of spades.  Hold it another way and it looks like a 9 of diamonds.  With the secret revealed to me, I was well on my way to becoming Marshall Brodien, except I was missing the instructions that explained how to do all of the tricks.  Without those, I wasn't going to fool anyone.

My disappointment quickly changed to fear when Mom came downstairs and saw me playing with the cards.  The card magic did not help me disguise my guilt.  When she asked me where I had gotten them, I told her that Frank brought them to school, but that he was letting me borrow them for the night.  I don't know why it seemed so far-fetched that a kid that I had known my whole life would share something with me, but she didn't seem to be buying my lie.  She didn't push it though, and when she left the room, I packed the cards neatly back into their box.  The next day, I slipped the cards back inside Frank's desk and don't remember ever seeing them again.