I was five years old. It was my first day to go to school, not real school, of course, just Kindergarten. This was the first year ever that Kindergarten was offered, 1931. There were twelve of us enrolled, and most were as thrilled and happy to be there as I was, but there were still a few tears. It was not required that children go to Kindergarten, so not many were enrolled.
I already knew some of the children which delighted me, and very quickly we all became friends. One of my playmates named Bobo was there. He ran across the room to see me. His real name was Sanford, but nobody called him that.
Mrs. Britt was our teacher. She was the school superintendent’s wife, so we had seen her before as they were prominent members of our community. She seemed quite old to me and was much older than my mother. She wore spectacles which rested on her nose. This made her look very serious. Her hair was gray, mixed with black and it was pulled back to make a loose knot. I thought this made her appear very stern.
After greeting each one of us with a nice smile and handshake, she asked us to go to the blackboard and if we knew how to print our first names to do so, and if not, she would show us how. When all the names were on the board, she had us stand with our name and introduce ourselves. It was fun, but some spoke so softly we couldn’t hear them. Then Mrs. Britt would pronounce their name for us all to hear.
Edith May standing beside Mrs. Britt.
When it was Bobo’s turn she said, “I thought your name was Sanford.” He said that Bobo was what his friends called him. She was very kind and asked if she could also call him Bobo. He smiled and nodded shyly. Then she added, “When you are older, I will help you learn to write Sanford, also.” She smiled and patted his head. I thought maybe Mrs. Britt wasn’t so stern after all which relieved me.
When I was asked to say my name, he smiled when I said Edith May. It was a joke he had made when we played together and said, “Edith may do that.” or “No, Edith may not do that.” Then he would always giggle. Then I would tease him and call him Sanford since nobody called him that except our Sunday School teacher.
Bobo had funny skin. It was all purple or blue, that is, in motley spots all over. His face usually had some and his neck, arms and hands. If he wore short pants, we saw it there, too. I was used to it, but I noticed some of the children stared at it. Usually, he wore coveralls to play in, for his mother said they protected his skin so he would not get hurt. Some of the places were really large bruises. My mother told me he lacked one layer of his skin, the top one. It tore easily like paper, so he could not play with the boys. That is, he couldn’t play rough and tumble like most boys play. He played at recess on swings and the see-saw. I played with him in the games we played, Drop-the-Handkerchief and London Bridge. Most of the boys played them, too. He and I played Jacks, and he was pretty good at it. And, he could jump rope to rhymes which we all knew. Not many boys did that.
After we had worked on our new tablets and played in the play corner, Mrs. Britt told the class it was time for our morning snack. We went to the sink and washed our hands. We sat at our tables for a snack of graham crackers and milk. I was relieved nobody spilled their milk. One day Mrs. Britt asked if we would like to go outside and have our milk and graham crackers like a picnic. She chose a small group of young oak trees on the hill behind the school building with green winter grass covering the area and a few rain lilies which had come up through the blades. We sat in a circle as Mrs. Britt served the refreshments. It was early spring and made us all feel happy and free.
Sanford Trainer (far left), Patsy Nisbet, Clyde Henderson, Peggy Reming,
George Scheweining, Edith May Babcock, Glen Richardson, Loraine Fambrough,
Betty Lou Shoemaker, R.W. Wallace, Margie Croswell, Betty Taylor.
The school year was going by quickly. We had now all learned to print our last names. We were learning the alphabet. One day Bobo and I were at the blackboard together giggling and laughing, when we dared each other to taste the chalk. He was so funny. We bit some off and chewed it up. Mrs. Britt scolded us. Another time we tried white paste. It wasn’t too bad. But, she scolded us again. We all loved Mrs. Britt. She never raised her voice or yelled, but we knew we had to be good. She was firm, but sweet.
Bobo and I had become ‘best friends’, but the girls told me a boy couldn’t be a best friend for a girl. I didn’t know why, and I thought to myself he was still my best boyfriend, though nobody talked about boyfriends then. He played house with the girls and, of course, got to be the ‘daddy’. He loved to color and cut out. We had so much fun at Valentine’s Day for we cut out valentines and helped decorate our classroom. We made paper chains out of red construction paper and decorated a box to hold our valentines.
The day before Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Britt had helped us decorate some red hearts she had cut out for us and gave us doilies made of paper that were beautiful. We cut and pasted and wrote on them with black crayons, so our names showed. These we took home to our mothers.
Mrs. Britt had already told us about Abraham Lincoln’s birthday, February 12th, and said we would soon learn about George Washington, our first President. His birthday was on February 22nd. I told her mine was on the 21st. I was proud to be so near to his. February was a great month to be born in, I thought, but Valentine’s Day was wonderful. My mother was bringing valentine cookies to our Valentine’s Day party, and we were going to have lemonade for our drink.
Valentine’s Day we were to bring our valentines to school for our classmates. We gave one to everybody, but first we had to put their names on the envelope and drop them in the slot on the valentine box we had decorated. Everybody in our class got one. Mrs. Britt gave us each a beautiful valentine she had made. The mothers were all there to enjoy watching us. They had refreshments, too. It was a grand holiday.
When it was over, we got up from our tables to get our sweaters and coats and join our mothers who were waiting at the door. I had been seated next to Bobo. When I stood up with him, he leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I was so surprised that I kissed him back! We giggled as we started over to get our coats. Just at that moment Mrs. Britt was there in front of us. She frowned, saying, “Nice boys and girls don’t do that!” We both looked at her in surprise. I noticed Bobo was scared. He hung his head, and then rushed to get his coat. I just stood and watched, wondering what we had done wrong. Mother came over with my coat. She said her goodbyes and thanked Mrs. Britt for a lovely party. The incident was either not noticed or forgotten. I wondered what we did wrong. As we walked away, I saw Bobo getting into his car with his mother. I wanted to wave, but he didn’t look up. It made me sad. My mother didn’t seem to notice. “Bobo kissed me on the cheek. Mother, what is wrong about a kiss?” I asked. She smiled and squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry,” she said, “It’s alright.”
I still love Bobo as a friend. He was my special friend.