Back to school

I did a similar story that ran Monday in the Herald Democrat

Recent stories we ran in the paper about the first day of school triggered flashes of my own first day more than 50 years ago.

I went to a parochial school in Toledo, Ohio and my first day was for kindergarten. I remember other kids in the classroom crying and I didn't understand the why of that. There were mothers out in the hallway peeking through the glass window in the door to get one last glimpse of their little prince or princess, all grown up for kindergarten. I'm not sure if my mom was one of those.

As I recall, I was pretty "matter of fact" about the event. I was excited because I was going to learn to read. I couldn't wait.

Up to that time, my dad read to me. It was especially fun on Sunday mornings before church when he read the Sunday comics from the Toledo Blade. I stood behind him to follow along with the pictures in the comic strip. When I saw a frame that looked more interesting that the one he was one, I would point to it and say "Read that one, Daddy," in the middle in the middle of whatever he was trying to read.

If he was reading a book to me, I sat in his lap but whenever he was reading the comics, I stood behind him and sometimes combed his hair. It strikes me as I write these words, my dad was a really patient man when I was little.

For weeks I told my brother and sister, 12 and 13 years my senior, over and over that I was going to school and I would be able to read. I'm sure I gloated to my younger sister by one year, the same brag to let her know I'd have something she wouldn't have.

I was dressed in a little pleated skirts with matching suspenders, a white blouse, little white socks and black patten shoes and so was each of the other girls. We wore uniforms. But that never bothered me. That day, everything was right for me because I was going to learn to read.

The disagreeable part of the day for me and my big disappointment, came when I went home from school that first day and I still couldn't read. My parents hadn't understood that I expected to be able to read as soon as I went to school until they were trying to reason with a wailing 5 year old to help me understand -- it's a process.