by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox
Sunday, Monday, Happy Days.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days.
Thursday, Friday, Happy Days.
The weekend comes,
My cycle hums,
Ready to race to you.
+++++++++++++
I remember Miss Victoria Campbell, my second grade teacher. she was the first teacher crush I ever had. She was also the teacher that loved to draw pictures of Snoopy and Clifford on everything. She put them just about everywhere in the classroom.
We arrived at our homeroom on the first day, with our seats assigned with name markers. Little cut-outs of Clifford the Big Red Dog were taped to the backs of our seats. Miss Campbell also gave us the standard "grade school teacher" list: one box of Kleenex, one dozen No. 2 pencils, two booklets of third-grade ruled paper, with the alternating blue and red lines on non-bleached news print, a box of 64 Crayola Crayons with every color then imaginable: from blue-green to green-blue to burnt sienna.
Beyond her being a cute female twenty-something, there isn't much else to remember, except for field trips and visitors. Oh, and of course, what would 1978 have been without the blizzard that kept us out of school for nearly two months.
1977 was the year that the snow just kept on coming. Teachers lined us up outside the front of Herbert Mills every morning. We waited in the cold for 8:45 to come, so they would let us into the warm building. Frank Bowsher had one of those dark blue parka coats with the fur on the hood that looked like dead squirrel. He always pulled it up over his head and zipped the
zipper up to the top of the neck. His tiny face poked out the round hole, surrounded by squirrel fur.
We stood in line for ten or fifteen minutes every morning, but it felt like an hour, as we huddled together in line, making sure not to cross the thick yellow line that told us how close we could get to school before it actually opened.
Christmas 1977 came, and we received our Gi Joes with the kung-fu grip, green machines, new BMX bikes, new clothes for our Barbie dolls and, of course, warmer winter coats.
January came and Winter reared its ugly head, inch after inch of snow piled in front of our houses. We made snowmen and snow castles and had snowball fights. A patch of ice ran across one part of the playground and, of course, the children found it. Mrs. Derr had to stand on top of the ice patch to stop us from sliding across and possibly breaking our necks.
About half-way through January, we'd already run out of "free" snow days. Local school boards were looking at coming up with a solution or making the school year extend deep into June. For approximately two weeks, the temperature didn't even break over freezing. Then, on January 23rd, it all got worse.
Reynoldsburg Middle School was having problems keeping operable in the horrible weather. On January 23rd, over a dozen inches of snow fell on Ohio. It was the first and last time that all of I-71 and I-70 were completely closed to all traffic, including snow removal equipment. It looked like Jack Frost had won. We weren't going anywhere.
Joe Endry and the school board decided to host split-session classes at Reynoldsburg Junior High. Our third grade class went to Mills and waited in the Gymnasium until busses came by to pick us up. Then, we were whisked off to the Junior High for classes three times a week (M,W,F) from 8 AM to 11:30 AM. A childhood friend, Andy Motz, was in fourth grade. He went to classes in the afternoon, which meant he got to see re-runs of Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley every weekday morning at 11 AM.
The Junior High was a large, foreign building half-buried in the ground. It looked like a warehouse. It looked like a coffin. Inside, there were hallways with tall yellow and orange lockers. There were school rooms that were separated by large wall dividers. Noises from other classes travelled freely from one part of the building to the other. We also got to enjoy actual student desks. We fought over desks that had fold-down tops and plastic chairs that had three slots across the back, instead of the old yellow chairs with the large bucket seat, which were uncomfortable and left our legs dangling awkwardly over the front side.
We were given simple grab-bag projects: Molding clay objects, finishing basic dittoes for spelling and math classes. We used our regular textbooks. We wrote lists of spelling words, including those pesky Snerks, special words that were spelled differently than they sounded. We drew large letters in print, then in cursive. Back then, everyone's cursive Qs looked like giant 2s and cursive Zs were totally foreign objects. I always wondered how Jo Zari coped with having to write that stupid capital Z every time she signed her name. Maybe that's why she went to college a year early.
One of the reporters at WBNS channel 10 (Carol Chaney) hosted a morning TV show called "Schoolies." Sometimes, teachers would assign projects based on Schoolies episodes, sometimes we would just do the projects the best we could.
We also just watched anything that was on the tube, since the weather was cold and bitter. We watched Bob Barker and Richard Dawson in the morning, then soap operas in the afternoon. We would still manage to get outside to play in the snow, but for the most part, we just waited it out.
It was, a cold, cold winter that we all suffered through, travelling by big yellow bus to a strange and distant place called Reynoldsburg Junior High. When it ended, it was just another year down and nine to go.
Sunday, Monday, Happy Days.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days.
Thursday, Friday, Happy Days.
The weekend comes,
My cycle hums,
Ready to race to you.
+++++++++++++
I remember Miss Victoria Campbell, my second grade teacher. she was the first teacher crush I ever had. She was also the teacher that loved to draw pictures of Snoopy and Clifford on everything. She put them just about everywhere in the classroom.
We arrived at our homeroom on the first day, with our seats assigned with name markers. Little cut-outs of Clifford the Big Red Dog were taped to the backs of our seats. Miss Campbell also gave us the standard "grade school teacher" list: one box of Kleenex, one dozen No. 2 pencils, two booklets of third-grade ruled paper, with the alternating blue and red lines on non-bleached news print, a box of 64 Crayola Crayons with every color then imaginable: from blue-green to green-blue to burnt sienna.
Beyond her being a cute female twenty-something, there isn't much else to remember, except for field trips and visitors. Oh, and of course, what would 1978 have been without the blizzard that kept us out of school for nearly two months.
1977 was the year that the snow just kept on coming. Teachers lined us up outside the front of Herbert Mills every morning. We waited in the cold for 8:45 to come, so they would let us into the warm building. Frank Bowsher had one of those dark blue parka coats with the fur on the hood that looked like dead squirrel. He always pulled it up over his head and zipped the
zipper up to the top of the neck. His tiny face poked out the round hole, surrounded by squirrel fur.
We stood in line for ten or fifteen minutes every morning, but it felt like an hour, as we huddled together in line, making sure not to cross the thick yellow line that told us how close we could get to school before it actually opened.
Christmas 1977 came, and we received our Gi Joes with the kung-fu grip, green machines, new BMX bikes, new clothes for our Barbie dolls and, of course, warmer winter coats.
January came and Winter reared its ugly head, inch after inch of snow piled in front of our houses. We made snowmen and snow castles and had snowball fights. A patch of ice ran across one part of the playground and, of course, the children found it. Mrs. Derr had to stand on top of the ice patch to stop us from sliding across and possibly breaking our necks.
About half-way through January, we'd already run out of "free" snow days. Local school boards were looking at coming up with a solution or making the school year extend deep into June. For approximately two weeks, the temperature didn't even break over freezing. Then, on January 23rd, it all got worse.
Reynoldsburg Middle School was having problems keeping operable in the horrible weather. On January 23rd, over a dozen inches of snow fell on Ohio. It was the first and last time that all of I-71 and I-70 were completely closed to all traffic, including snow removal equipment. It looked like Jack Frost had won. We weren't going anywhere.
Joe Endry and the school board decided to host split-session classes at Reynoldsburg Junior High. Our third grade class went to Mills and waited in the Gymnasium until busses came by to pick us up. Then, we were whisked off to the Junior High for classes three times a week (M,W,F) from 8 AM to 11:30 AM. A childhood friend, Andy Motz, was in fourth grade. He went to classes in the afternoon, which meant he got to see re-runs of Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley every weekday morning at 11 AM.
The Junior High was a large, foreign building half-buried in the ground. It looked like a warehouse. It looked like a coffin. Inside, there were hallways with tall yellow and orange lockers. There were school rooms that were separated by large wall dividers. Noises from other classes travelled freely from one part of the building to the other. We also got to enjoy actual student desks. We fought over desks that had fold-down tops and plastic chairs that had three slots across the back, instead of the old yellow chairs with the large bucket seat, which were uncomfortable and left our legs dangling awkwardly over the front side.
We were given simple grab-bag projects: Molding clay objects, finishing basic dittoes for spelling and math classes. We used our regular textbooks. We wrote lists of spelling words, including those pesky Snerks, special words that were spelled differently than they sounded. We drew large letters in print, then in cursive. Back then, everyone's cursive Qs looked like giant 2s and cursive Zs were totally foreign objects. I always wondered how Jo Zari coped with having to write that stupid capital Z every time she signed her name. Maybe that's why she went to college a year early.
One of the reporters at WBNS channel 10 (Carol Chaney) hosted a morning TV show called "Schoolies." Sometimes, teachers would assign projects based on Schoolies episodes, sometimes we would just do the projects the best we could.
We also just watched anything that was on the tube, since the weather was cold and bitter. We watched Bob Barker and Richard Dawson in the morning, then soap operas in the afternoon. We would still manage to get outside to play in the snow, but for the most part, we just waited it out.
It was, a cold, cold winter that we all suffered through, travelling by big yellow bus to a strange and distant place called Reynoldsburg Junior High. When it ended, it was just another year down and nine to go.
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