Hannibal. 1970. Mark Twain Elementary. Third grade. Mrs. Cary was the teacher.
And she was quite lovable, but seemed quite old to me at age 8. My first- and second-grade teachers had been my mother’s age, it seems to me, around 30 or so. Mrs. Cary must have been in her 50s. This was, of course, before the rule of 80 was adopted in 1977.
I liked Mrs. Cary. I remember that I pulled a giant leaf from a tree on the playground, and pressed it between paper. And wrote in crayon “Dedicated to Mrs. Cary.”
I know this because I discovered it, years later, still fairly intact.
Believe it or not, I have more specific recollections of my second-grade classroom and the classrooms in Lee’s Summit than I do of third grade in Hannibal.
Perhaps this is because I was bored?
Unknownst to me at the time, but revealed to me much later by my parents, Mrs. Cary called them in for a conference to discuss my difficulties with reading. Apparently she thought I was slow. As in what was then called “Special Education” slow.
My mother assured her I was not.
I would add that I am not.
And my mother assured her that I was bored. Seems I was reading at an eighth-grade level already.
An almost-exhaustive compendium of
photos of places I’ve lived over my 56 years
I am missing photos of the places I lived during the summers of 1981 and 1982, as I worked in Missouri between college semesters. Summer 1981 was at Southwest Baptist University in the Admissions office; Summer 1982, in Tarkio as a summer missionary.
1986. I am missing a photo of the house I rented in Bolivar while I was Director of Admissions at Southwest Baptist University. The building has subsequently been demolished.
1999. I am missing a photo of my townhouse in Owensboro, Kentucky, where I taught college for one year.
And then I bought my own dream home in November 2008. And I’ve been here ever since, with one dog and then another. I like it here.
From the south.
Empty porches on Lawn Place.
25 Lawn Place, dressed for the season.
The new, 25 Lawn Place, on January 27.
Tuesday evening, on the porch swing.
Here’s a bonus: my elementary school in Lee’s Summit.
Beth has been hoping to visit Hannibal with her children, since the kids have never been and Beth has not been back to Hannibal since she was 18. So I drove up this morning to meet them and play tour guide.
We lived in Hannibal when I was in elementary school, moving away toward the end of my fourth grade year. Beth barely remembers living there, since she was just turned four when we left. So today, Beth had some very jumbled memories of the two houses I remember, of where Dorothy Watson lived, and the Gruber house, and of Fifth Street Baptist Church, and so on.
We had a fun day, taking in all the Mark Twain & Tom Sawyer stuff, climbing up Cardiff Hill to the lighthouse, going up to Lovers Leap, touring Mark Twain cave, and playing on the banks of the Mississippi from the Illinois side.
And, five minutes shy of 12 hours away, I was back home!