Yet another move for my family. This time all the way across town to a school named Knox. The building, like Northrop and Washington no longer stands. Knox was demolished in 1995. The building itself was interesting. It had classes on both floors with an open center so one could look down over the stage and open area. Where did we eat lunch? Was there an addition with a kitchen?
Knox was bigger than Washington, it had, what seemed like two classes per grade. Being a fourth grader my class room was upstairs, next to a dark, dreary room they called a library.
Her name may have been Mrs. Sorenson, heavy on the may have been. Most of the year I was watching the back of the head of the person who sat in front of me. She had brain surgery and when she came to school her hair on the back of her head was still very short from shaving and the hole looked like I could poke a pencil in it. That isn't what one is supposed to learn in grade four but that is really all I remember about school.
What I do remember is meeting more new people and having great softball games in Roue's front yard and their son breaking his collar bone twice one summer. I had my first, (and only) bloody nose when I got hit with a ball. Mother told me to stand over the toilet. When daddy came home he told me to hold my nose. I was glad I had a plastic-like jacket on.
Betty and I were the best of friends and spent time designing clothes for paper dolls out of typing paper. We liked to watch her older sister lay on the bed and zipper her jeans with a plyer.
Betty and I walked to school together. It wasn't far, only about six blocks. Odd, the older I got the closer school was!
My question to you is, what is fourth grade for, anyway?
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