I had an opportunity to visit my ole East Side Elementary School yesterday in West Point. Memories came flooding back like a tsunami!
What fun to recall dancing around the Maypole (it’s still there in the same spot); having a concussion when my partner jumped off the seesaw while I was suspended in mid-air; playing Pop the Whip and Red Rover, Red Rover, Come on Over.
And there was the magnolia tree, Tinker, our sixth grade class president planted on Arbor Day in 1958. (I was secretly in love with him.) Listen up, classmates from my sixth grade, we need to go back and clean up around our tree on Arbor Day this year…
I can never forget the day I jumped out of the car and slammed the door while my Daddy sped off with my skirt hanging in the door. Thankfully, we wore slips back then.
The new principal took me on a tour of my old classrooms and I was six again, self conscious and anxious about making friends in my new town. My worries were totally unnecessary because The Point was the best environment in the world in which to grow up.
I knew the floor plan of every house located between the school and Eshman Avenue. I know where the residents kept their band-aids and where they hid their cookies.
Everyone at the meeting yesterday had fond memories of playing at “my ditch” – it was a huge drainage ditch that ran beside my house. It featured a big concrete culvert surrounded by handbars, designed to keep us OUT of the ditch. We spent untold hours in that culvert building forts and crawling under the street above.
You can always go home again – at least in your memories….