When I originally read this prompt, I thought I would just post the picture and let that be that. However, after reading the date on the back, and then spending time giving much needed homage to my FitBit lord, my mind began to reminisce.
The time is spring 1977. I was a few months short of my 25th birthday and my 3rd wedding anniversary. I am in Bernheim Forest, an arboretum near Louisville, KY. Mr. L and I spent the first three years of our marriage in Louisville. I did not remember this day specifically until Mr. L reminded me that nature called when we were on one of the forest's hiking trails, and I had to answer the call. There was much hilarity, for tee teeing in the woods is not a skill at which I excel. I get very little practice, thank goodness. That's what he remembers from the day. Go figure.
While I do not remember how I specifically felt this day, I know that we were coming to the end of our time in Louisville. I was sad when we moved from Nashville there, because I was leaving everything I knew. Those years proved to be wonderful, and the unfamiliar surroundings proved to be a huge blessing in our marriage. So, when this picture was made, it was a bittersweet time, looking forward to returning home, but with a deep sadness at leaving new friends and new places. Louisville is a wonderful city.
In earlier blogs I have talked about the Trevathans who made our time in Louisville beautiful in so many ways. I would not trade my relationship with that family for any amount of money. But, they were not the only people we met and grew to love over those three years.
My first job in Louisville was as a secretary in a data processing center for the Federal government. To say I stunk at that job would be a monumental understatement. My boss reminded me of Tim Conway, and fortunately, he had a Tim Conway sort of sense of humor, otherwise he would have fired me after about day 1/2. As a twenty-two year old, naïve newlywed, doofus of a secretary, the office saw me as a loveable, dopey, mascot and treated me with great patience and kindness. I was most grateful, and left there happily, but with a bit of sadness as well.
I left the Federal government job to substitute teach. I was hoping to work my way into a fulltime teaching job. I substituted in every high school in Jefferson County, KY as just that year Louisville City and Jefferson County schools had merged. Let me tell you, there are a lot of high schools in Jefferson County. I was smaller than most of my students, both male and female. I was only 4 years older than some of my students. I was a substitute...did I mention that....remember how you treated substitutes? It was a hard job, but I would rather have subbed in any high school than an elementary school. One day and one day only, I was sent to an elementary school. It was a school with an open concept. The school was built in a circle. The walls broke down between classrooms, and the cafeteria was in the middle. It was total chaos. When Mr. L picked me up that afternoon, we went straight to the store where I bought a bottle of Vodka and 8 Hershey bars. I went home and proceeded to drink 1/2 of the bottle and eat 6 of the Hershey bars. And, people, I do not drink! Needless to say, this prescription put me out of my misery for the rest of the day and a great deal of the next one.
About 1/4 of the way through the next school year, I worked into a fulltime job....teaching 7th and 8th grade math. I had Math 101 in college. That's it, Math 101. I do not have a math brain, which helped me become a pretty good math teacher, for I understood the struggles of my students. I team taught most of my classes that year with Ray Fore, Mrs. Vogt, and Ken Garvey. These people all had math degrees, so once again, I found myself the goofy mascot at my place of work. While I was not well educated in math nor did I possess any great aptitude for the subject, I worked hard and was a dependable and eager learner. I loved my co-workers and I loved my students. There was that one day where I was called a b%&*h three times by three different students. The third time, a large 8th grade boy shouted it at me in front of the whole class. I responded with, "you are the third person to call me that today. I am coming to suspect that you are right, however, it is not your place to say so!" He got the paddling of a lifetime from the assistant principal, who might also have agreed that day with the young man's assessment of my disposition, but was wise enough not to say it.
Our team of teachers had a secretary named Pat Wampler. She was the loveliest of women. She knew I was the poor newlywed of a law student, so she would go to the store and buy extra produce then bring it to school and say, "I don't know what I was thinking when I bought this many apples or this much squash or whatever. We could not possibly eat all this. Would you take some for me so it does not go to waste?" Talk about a wise woman who knew how to help someone without hurting their pride. I loved her.
Ken Garvey was not much older than I with a beautiful wife who had some similarities to Jayne Mansfield (Seinfeld reference). She was a very nice person. Ken was huge help to me in showing me how to conquer my fear of certain math procedures. He never once made me feel as though he wondered why the school board had sent such an inept math person. I was most grateful to him.
Mrs. Vogt was probably about my mother's age. Several years before I came to the school, Mrs. Vogt's son died. He played on the high school basketball team and wanted to quit. Mrs. Vogt was a no-nonsense person, and she told him that he did not have to play the next year, but he would go back and finish his commitment to the team for that year. Just a few days later, during practice, he choked on a wad of bubble gum and died on the court. She told me this story, painfully, but in acceptance that it was what it was, and while she felt some guilt over it, she would have sent him back to the team again. It is what she thought was the right thing. I admired her greatly while my heart hurt deeply for her. Her husband died a few weeks after her son.
Ray Fore was sort of the chairman of this little band of math teachers. The man was destined to be a math teacher. Below is how he signed his name:
Ray was a small man with a sloping nose that had a wart on the end. He could control a classroom like you cannot imagine. We had 2 classes each day that consisted of 250 students, 4 teachers, in a huge classroom that had multiple TVs. We were supposed to watch a math lesson on the TV, and then we live teachers would go over what the students did not understand. We rarely turned the TVs on because the TV teacher was not great. Ray never told the students what he wanted them to do, he told them what they would do, and they believed him. I admired him greatly. One of the most wonderful meals I have enjoyed in my life was the last time Ray, his wife, Mr. L and I ate together. It was a simple meal, served on their screened-in porch and I was in about day five of weeping over leaving Louisville.
We never knew as we approached that spring and Mr. L's graduation from law school that he would end his law career as a judge. We could not have really anticipated that 39 years later he would be inducted as a Fellow into the College of Workers' Compensation Lawyers, which he will be in March of this year. He is freakishly modest, so you don't have to tell him that I told you, and frankly, I am not sure what it means except that it seems to be a really big deal and I have to wear an evening dress to the induction. Oh, and it's in New Orleans, a city I have never visited.
Who knew that a picture of a girl in a field of buttercups could evoke so many memories?
Day 10 ~ an old picture of me ~ check.
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