Chapter 6

I remember feeling very sad when we found out we were going to be moving once more.

Dad had notched another rung for his ladder and we would be heading for Buffalo, New York. North Tonawanda actually.

4th grade is a bit of a blur for me. I know we started at St. B's. So, I'm thinking it was September, 1968.

We moved in the winter time. I recall seeing big chunks of ice in the river when we visited Buffalo.

I really liked my friends in Springfield and recall asking my teacher if there was any way to get a list of students?

I would check with them first, so that I could write to them after we were gone.

At that time there were no crazy constraints and I was given a typed sheet with names and addresses and phone numbers.

I added some from the local neighborhood and knew I could write to any of these friends once settled in Buffalo.

It was early in 1969. I had turned 10. We moved and there was no Saint anything school for us to attend.

I remember it was a public school. The teaching methods were totally different.

And where we had just started in on sentence structure at my old school, this school was way ahead in the book.

I know I never did quite catch on to all the verb structures and nouns and predicates.

Wow! I might have blocked some of this nonsense out also. I'm laughing because I know I could write a sentence; just don't ask me to point out the assisting verb or whatever it is called. Sorry, I am still chuckling about this memory coming out to meet my fingers on the keyboard.

I forgot to mention in my earlier memories about air raid drills. In first grade we still had them. A mad scramble to get out of your desk and hide under it.

Like that was going to protect us from a blast of heat and energy as it destroyed the walls of the school. My chuckling brought this one out. It was in there and wanted to come out and say hello.

Back to 4th grade. I know for years I would encounter run on sentences. I wrote as I spoke. Try to get me to stop. But I somehow learned from one particular teacher. She would suggest that when I was writing, to pretend I was talking. Take a breath. Anywhere you take a breath put in a comma. I still sometimes wonder if I use the semicolon correctly; such as here?

I became a drawing fiend in my class this year. I would draw top down views of little cars on race tracks. I would even draw 'damaged' cars in wrecks on the speedway.

I know this was my dad watching the Auto Races on TV. The influence was very strong.

There was more yelling between my parents. And they did not seem to care at this point if any of us kids were in earshot.

I know we always get told that it is not the kids fault. Whatever is going on between your parents is only between them. I would find out soon after the coming storm that in many ways we all find a way to blame ourselves for something that affects the family dynamic.

I know I made myself get into so many situations after my 'hole in the ground' incident.

It was like I wanted them to yell and scream at me so I could break down and open up about the pathetic way they were watching out for us. Or not. In my case.

Yet, I know I do not blame my parents.

I blame the other parents for allowing their kids to visit horrors on their helpless daughter. Her brothers really needed to be caught; and stopped!

Sadly, I do not recall what really happened after I locked it all away in my dark place.

I just know that the blur of things I now know are memories, are still trying to find a way out. And my next big event was mom moving us at the END of the school year. She did not want us to miss anymore time in school.