This morning Russ and I were scheduled to take a three hour class instructing on the proper things to do if you're being robbed while working in the bank. The course is given by the Colonie PD and held in the Town of Colonie Community Center. This building used to be the Colonie Village Elementary School. I went to kindergarten and first grade there.
It was a bit eerie walking into the building. I pointed out to Russ my kindergarten room as we passed it. And I quickly did the math....53 years ago! A flood of memories coursed through my brain: the first day of school when that girl looked up at me as I was standing on a stool to get some drawing supplies and said, "I hate you." And seeing the little tables with six of us sitting around each of them. Asking Mrs. Baker, my teacher, my voice quivering, "What's the nurse going to do?" after finding out that we were going to have a medical examination. (Future post: Good-bye Tonsils!) A memory of my mother sitting over near the windows on the day that parents came to visit. Seeing Mr. Rich sitting on the table and talking to us about the plane crash that afternoon, just up the street.
The hallway seemed much shorter today than it did back then. Our class was in the room next door. And if memory serves me correctly, that was my first grade class with Miss King. Although I had not had thought of my time in first grade in YEARS, on entering the room, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of familiarity. The wooden doors over the coat racks and the supplies looked unchanged. The counter and sink area also looked as if it was the same. Even the windows and the three rows of hanging florescent lights were so familiar, and rightly so since my eyes had beheld them many times before on a daily basis.
Before the class started, I figured I'd better take care of some business because I didn't know how long it would be before we would get a break. As I walked back into the hallway and headed towards the boys/mens room another memory smacked me right upside the head!
We used to have "bathroom period" back then. We would all line up...boys in one line, girls in the other and we would parade down the hall to the lavatories. One day during this process, I didn't have to go. I went in and came right out. No problem. Shortly after we returned to our classroom and began the next lesson, uh oh....I now had to go! I was too embarrassed to go up to Miss King and ask her if I could go...and I thought she would be mad at me. I remember standing at the desks of a couple of classmates....asking them what I should do. Well, nature couldn't wait. The front of my pants were all wet! The next thing I remember was Miss King holding me by the arm and rushing with me down the hall to the boys room. A phone call was made to my Aunt Mary's house (we didn't have a phone back then) and my cousin Eugene drove my mother to the school with a clean and dry pair of pants!
But I didn't feel all that bad though. There was a set of twin boys in my class and one of them pooped in his pants on several occasions. I have a big black and white photograph of my first grade classroom, with all of the kids sitting at their desks. But, I'll be darned if I can find it to include in this post!!! But....if it does turn up, I will re-post this!
