My top two memories among many fond ones are playing hockey for hours every day of the week throughout the winter and Miss Cressman's class for both Grades Five and Six.

The annual refrain, " Hey, Mum! The boards are up at Blythwood!!" was the way it always started . It was such a major occurrence that all my family recalled the phrase years later when the subjects of winter or Blythwood came up. What a gift it was to have that rink in those days. I am sad that my girls don't and will not have the same type of memory...daily skating and hockey ANYtime you wanted to go...recess, before and after school and , of course, all weekend long 'til late at night. And all jsut a 5 minute walk away.

How many Saturdays were there when, as a point of pride, I tried to see if I could beat my last record for hours spent at the rink....regardless of how much by frozen toes screamed to go home? Saturday nights when I was a little older were a special time...a quiet neighbourhood, walking up to the school with squeaky snow underfoot, the muffled sound of slapshots against those famous boards. How many kids would be up there, I wondered excitedly. My pace always quickened with that sound. At there ahead, once I'd arrived at the black, iron gates of the schoolyard there was the rink with two or three bright lights. It looked so tranquil when the fat flakes of snow would pass by...bright and dancing while all around was black and quiet....until the next slapshot of course!

Matt Rogers and I were always the first to lace up at recess ...we couldn't bear to miss a second of ice time plus we had to see who'd be first. We also had to pick off the best 'real estate' for playing 'boards'. Each pair of kids staked out a length of boards which became the goal. No raises but slapshots (well sort-of ...I never had a strong one...) were ok. I had the straight stick and had to take care of it because I wasn't going to get another if I broke it. I used to think how great it would be to try one of those radically curved sticks ...like the one John Godden and others had ...it was the Bobby Hull style. "Neato!".

The worst part of skating was falling and hitting the back of your head...again..I swear I have a flat spot today....no one, of course wore a helmet. Nor did anyone wear hockey gloves. And certainly no $150 NHL jerseys. It was all so simple. So innocent. Soooo much fun. (sigh....)

As for Miss Cressman....

My best teacher by far and was so lucky to get her two years back to back. I remember reading my report card. I remember the day distinctly. I had just been let out of hospital after rupturing my liver in a terrible bike accident on the trails at Alexandra Muir Park. It was the Summer of Love I was to discover years later ;-). 1969 and Mum and Dad handed me the card to read on the way home in the car. I already felt rotten since every little bump pulled at my many stitches. Then I noticed who'd be my Grade 5 teacher. I was so upset. I had heard how tough she was and that she was grumpy.

How wrong I was however. Sure Miss Cressman ensured discipline in the class (what a concept by today's standards), but we all got it. We knew the line and we knew what would happen if we crossed it. We all seemed to enjoy here classes though ...with one or two minor exceptions I'm sure. Miss Cressman had a familiar blue dress and I always recall her wearing that while rocking back and forth on her heals, arms behind her back saying , "Woe be tied you if you....". Her way of getting us sorted out quickly. Then she'd whip out her circular pitch pipe and we'd be singing a song...often one of the Christian standards, sometimes the 'Maple Leaf Forever', and many others. It is all so old-fashioned now...we were in the middle of a social revolution then although, as VERY innocent Grade 5 and 6 students, we were oblivious to that. Also, that class was very homogeneous both in terms of race and religion. But we did learn and learn to respect certain values regardless of our background in Miss Cressman's class. I suppose the most significant was the value of Responsibility....don't get me started!

So many other memories though and I hope to share some with friends from long ago:

Walking to school down Stratheden and seeing frogs jumping around of the street...there once was a pond behind the houses between Sunnyview school..I wonder if there is a trace of it

Playing soccer with "Sir" aka Mr. Phillips...thank you for instilling my love of the game which I picked up again 8 years ago and now play every week of the year...in the Old Farts' leagues alas!

Hop-scotch ...where will I find that perfect stone..just flat enough to avoid weird bounces?

Going for the record in catch...I think we got up to 5280 or something...oh no, that's number of feet in a mile...yep, learned that at Blythwood when they still had "imperial" units (cf "God Save the Queen" below)

That little hut they used to have beside the rink...two or three of us could fit in there beside the fat old stove and the fat old (stinky)guy who kept the fire warm for us...oh ya and those little pieces of coal that use to be scattered around the hut...the funny little details one you remember!

Hiding in the lockers when Miss Cressman left the class just as Madame Langlais -- or Madame Long-Legs as we called her -- came in to TRY to teach us French.

Having a crush on HW and JK and AP and............. ;-)

Calling your buddies routinely only by their last name or suitably insulting nickname... (sorry Porky)

Rolling your rubber boots down from the top to make a cuff...really cool...so what if it it limited the depth of puddle you could walk through. ..dryly. Mothers HATED that. Especially because if she ever did get you to roll it up again, it now had a hole where the fold was!

Jumping on the bus with Adam Little, John Broadfoot and Chris Jackson to go to Castle Frank School for a practise as Blythwood's representatives on the city-wide school choir.

The long walk to George Locke Library before our own library was established.

Christmas Carols in the auditorium...everyone was issued with an 8-page song sheet printed up by Simpson's ("what's Simpson's, Daddy??")

Opening exercises...the Lord's Prayer and God Save the Queen.....are we ancient or what!

WALKING to school....you only got a ride if you were too sick to walk!

Losing a friend to a tragic accident...a teary-eyed row of little boys sitting in the front row at an 8 or 9-year old's funeral...no, they are not all happy memories. But one of many Life Lessons learned at Blythwood Public School.

Regards,

David