1958 - 1959 in Biography

I guess 1959 was an active year - for the family, anyway. I was prolly in 1st grade and Mrs. Burdick was my teacher. (I seem to recall another first-grade class across the hall – did we have enough students for that?).

Reading was one of my favorite classes. My mom later told me that whenever I was quiet, I usually had my nose stuck in the ‘Book of Knowledge’, an encyclopedia arranged alphabetically in separate volumes.

First grade is when we had three recesses - one each in the morning and afternoon and one after lunch.

It was during one of those pre-reading class recesses that Charlene - a classmate - said something I didn’t like, so I punched her in the stomach.

Back inside at our reading circle, Charlene was called upon to read out loud. She tried to read, but broke down nearly in tears. The teacher asked her what was wrong, and she confessed…mentioning my name.

SHOOOOM!!! I was in the principal’s office in no time, and I was punished some way, somehow, but I never hit a girl again!

So - reading was fun and often kept me out of trouble…unless my brother and I were setting (small) fires in the nearby woods. :-)

Ah, yes - my brother.

He was born in 1955, shortly before our move to Connecticut (remember the lemon doughnut?) and was only two- or three-years old when we moved to Rhode Island.

While my mom and maternal grandfather did the post-move unpacking, Jeff and I went to explore. It was cold enough that I had my winter jacket and gloves on, and Jeff was zipped up in his red snow-suit and mittens.

Our part of Rhode Island was pretty undeveloped. The Greene Plastics company was just down the hill, right where the blacktop ended. Beyond us the other way was…nothing until you got to Rockville, except for the little pond about 100 yards from the house and Ashville Pond.

So, Jeff and I were exploring, we played in the water (of course the temperature didn’t matter!), and on impulse, I pushed him in.

I nonchalantly walked home, and when my mom asked ‘Where’s Jeff?’, I told her.

SHOOOOOM!!! My mom AND my grandfather zoomed to the little pond and rescued my brother. (I dunno where my sister was or recall anything that happened later.)

Fast-forward to the 1990’s. Me, my brothers, their wives, and my mom are sitting around the dinner table, the guys regaling everyone with our first-person stories about growing up in Hope Valley.

The conversation turned to the Rhode Island move. I brought up the exploring that Jeff and I had done that day and how I’d pushed him into the water.

The room suddenly fell silent - and my mom said:

“I didn’t know you pushed him in…“

I’d escaped the paddling I’m sure I would have gotten back in the ‘50’s, but if looks could take its place, I’d for sure have a warm bottom that day!

(I’m glad my brother survived - that day and via other exploits, and we’re all pretty darn close. :-) )

We later moved to York Beach, Maine, then New Castle, New Hampshire when my dad was temporarily transferred to the Navy Yard in Kittery. I guess we’re still talking 1958-1959, ‘cause I remember the fireworks in Portsmouth when Alaska and Hawaii became our 49th and 50th states.

Look like I hav sum mor riting to due. :-)