I taught myself to read before I was 5 and was doing really well when I started school. With a birthday three days past the cutoff date, however, the school placed me in Kindergarten. (My Mom told them I could read, but it was pretty much "yeah, yeah" because every mother thinks her own child is special.) Then, about a month into Kindergarten, the teacher discovered I could read and suddenly I was in first grade at that school. This was the cause of what my Mother said was my first (only?) tantrum... I wanted to go to Kindergarten half days, and didn't want to leave my lovely teacher. From then on, too, I was a marked girl on the playground... neither class would have anything to do with me. They were talking about moving me on, to second (actually, it might have been third) and my Mom was happy to move to our new house in a different neighborhood. She was determined, at this point, to keep me out of the public schools, and we went to visit the University Prep School. I remember going over in my galoshes and visiting first grade. They had a field day and I couldn't run in the galoshes and didn't know my Mom would have given permission to take them off, so my performance was less-than-stellar. I did, however, impress them with the tests. (I remember the educational psychologist and this test.) They really didn't have room for me, but agreed with my Mom that it was pretty much an emergency, so in November of 1950 I started school at Prep. I still say it took me 15 years to get out of the University of Wyoming.

The school was constructing an Education Building at the then east end of campus, but first grade was in a square brick building next to a more school-like building at the west end. Art was taught in the basement, and for some reason I was terrified of the art teacher (we became friends later) and didn't like to go down to the rest rooms down there. I remember the song about Little Sir Echo with the "echo" answering from the closet. I loved first grade. Then in second we moved to the new building... elementary school on the ground floor, junior high and high school on the second, and college education classes on the third. Room 4 was what is now a "multipurpose room", in the basement. Also in second grade, twin boys joined the class... they lived a block away from us and their family was always super kind to me, and my mother always felt guilty that we'd kept them from joining the class in first grade.

In first grade and the beginning of second grade, there was this little boy who pulled my pigtails. I didn't like it till my Mom explained that probably meant he liked me. Then it was OK. His family went to Africa for a year. (This happened a lot at the Prep school since most of the kids were professor's children. Others were staff children. I was one of the few not connected to the U. at all, and I was certainly the only one without a father.) When he came back in third grade, I was "in love" with another little boy. Jimmy got his chance, though, when THAT kid went off to Italy in fourth grade, and Jimmy had Oz books to trade with me. We used to go off along the fence during recess and read books and lend them back and forth.

The next three years we were an item, as much as an item as one was in the upper elementary grades during the '50s. Jimmy knew all about fossils and got me interested. (He outgrew it, I never did.) In fifth and sixth grades, we used to go to 25-cent movies on campus. I treasured, for at least a year, a Valentine he gave me in 1956.

Third grade. He looks stoned.

At our week at school camp in 6th grade, I was all aquiver, would he ask me to the dance, etc. I kept giving him opportunities all week, and nothing happened. Finally, Thursday morning, he did, with these totally romantic words: "Hey, Hawes, I'll take you to the dance!" I just floated off... and then, after all that, he stood me up! He had a flare-up of malaria and had to go home. This was towards the end of the school year, and I had no idea he would be moving that summer. (He claims he saw me at a movie in the summer... was that "Forbidden Planet?" I didn't get to go to many movies and that's all I remember from that time.)

Life went on, and junior high and high school were interesting in their own ways. Then, about the time I started college, I saw an article in the Boomerang about Jim's father. He had become the president of Ft. Lewis college in Durango. So I wrote Jim in care of his father and we exchanged a couple of letters before my natural indolence took over and I let it lapse. At the time he was all interested in archeology, so I thought he'd gone that way. I've googled him a couple of times, but it's a fairly common name and I had no idea where to go with it.

Imagine my surprise, then, a couple of weeks ago when I got a "this is not spam" message that went on to quote my "boyfriend of 4th-6th grade" line and had his name in the header. I almost deleted it before the whole line percolated into my brain. After 48 years, I found it pretty hard to believe! (I was also relieved I hadn't said anything that would hurt his feelings or make him mad, though I can't imagine what that would have been.)

It turns out that he lives and works in the San Jose area so we made plans to meet. And today was the day! Rich and I left about 8:30, went to a cache in Martinez, drove around checking on a couple of others, then went to HistorySanJose again. It's changed some, for the better, since we were here before. We got to his office about 10 minutes early, so we checked out a couple of aerial shots till he could free himself up for lunch.

We had a lot to talk about. I'd brought some pictures from elementary school and Jim had some memories that fleshed out mine. He remembered a school history play where he played Jacques la Ramie. I remember that, although I don't remember what part was MINE. I remember one kid was both an Indian (and got to eat doughnuts) and later a Senator or something, in a suit, and he forgot to change his shoes from mocassins which highly amused my mother.

We talked about working in the geology lab. He'd also been digging out a mammal skull... I wonder if it was the same oreodont skull Dr. M. gave me at the end of the year. Jim used to get to go along on field trips. I doubt that a girl would have been asked along. (When I was one of the seven geology majors in college, I'd get letters addressed to "Gentlemen and Miss Hawes.") We had good memories of Dr. Knight, and of camp, and of science camp (which I didn't go to till I was 18, but Jim got to go as a kid since his dad was running it.) The hour flew by, and we finished by remembering a woman who used to open her house once a week for stamp collecting kids.

Rich took some pictures... and then, at the end, Jimmy pulled my braid! Heh.

Now *I* look stoned!

Now, we have to make sure it's not another 48 years till the next time!