Chapter 4

School Bells

We lived in Central City at the time, I suppose it was about 1987. My older brother was in fourth grade at Iowa Christian School which was near our home. Everyday I would stand by our big window that faced the street as the bus came. Each day it came twice, once in the morning, and once in the afternoon. Both times I was standing, waiting for it. Waiting for the day when I too would walk out the door, and get on the bus. The next year I began pre-school. I can remember drawing a picture on a plate with marker, and putting my name on it. I drew my house, which was white, but made it blue, and added a chimney so it wouldn’t be so plain. We still have this plate, and have eaten off it for ten years. My prize masterpiece was a watercolor of a cave. I recall one girl in particular that I was friends with. Her name was Melissa. She had straight black hair that was almost always up in pig tails, just so I would have something to pull on during recess (unfortunately, neither she nor the teacher liked this activity very much). For lunch, my mother made me a peanut butter and honey sandwich every day. This was my favorite. This was the beginning of my schooling. There was joy at this school.

In kindergarten I moved. I began the year at Irving Elementary School in Peosta (near Dubuque). I had a cool teacher that had a bunch of toys, that’s all I knew. Some kids in my class were Mark, Mark, AJ, PJ, Kelly, and that’s all I can remember right now. During this period I was also at a daycare place after school (because I was in a morning - only kindergarten class). This was fun. They had a big gym to play in, movies, an arcade, which included Asteroid, Donkey Kong, and everyone’s most favorite, which I can’t remember the name of, but the object was to climb up the outside of a building around angry tenants and dropped flower pots. They also had this little helicopter ride that went up and down, and you could push a button and pretend to shoot people. There was also a playground. One day I tried to go across the monkey bars, and I fell off the first rung, and landed flat on my back. I never tried them again. I had one friend in particular here that stands out. I can’t remember his name either, but he wore this red sweatshirt with a big yellow A on it, like from Alvin and the Chipmunks. The reason I liked him was because he was six, and the rest of us were only five, but we became the best of friends.

I moved halfway through the year, across the border to Wisconsin, where I went to Hazel Green Elementary School. Here, I don’t have too many memories from, but the ones I do have I remember clearly. My mom had taken me to see my classroom once, so on that first day that I went to school there, I said I didn’t need help to find the room. Well, I got to school, walked down the hallway, and admired the lockers (because no other school of mine ever had any), I turned into the open door of my classroom, and loudly stated "Now all I need is a locker." The teacher, a bit baffled, assured me that I was in the wrong room, which I quickly found to be true. So, she escorted me down the hall one more door, and I had my classroom, but I never did get my locker, it seems they were for the older kids...

After school everyday, I would come home and watch shows like Thunder Cats and Voltron, but that’s not the important part. Once, my sister (4) and I were home, with a babysitter who thought we were asleep. I was digging through the closet and happened upon a pair of scissors, which reminded me of my trip to the barber earlier that day. My sister however, was not allowed to get her hair cut. So I offered to be her barber. She agreed, and I went to work. When I was done, I had a masterpiece, and so I wouldn’t get in trouble, I hid all of the hair underneath my garbage can (because without the hair, no one would ever find out). My sister did get to go to the actual barber that day, for some reason my mom felt her hair needed fixing (go figure). Every day my brother rode his ten speed down the hill by our house, and turned sharply into our small parking area. I was never courageous enough though, until one day, when I decided nothing would stop me from doing what he did. So I wheeled my cherry red banana seat bike with training wheels up to an old wooden fence at the top of the hill and got on (as my brother zooms past me again). I push off and I’m on my way. I’m quickly picking up speed, and my turn is coming up. I got to the driveway, but my training wheels didn’t allow me to turn. I went straight, straight off this cement block that was half in the ground, and over into a rivine which was filled with barbed wire and glass and rusty old metal, and so much junk my parents didn’t want to look over the edge. You see I flipped the bike, and it made a 360 and kept going down the hill, and I fell in this pile. Remarkably, I came out without a scratch, but we took the training wheels off that day.

In first grade we moved back to Central City, and I went to Central City Elementary, with my teacher being Mrs. Toom. I don’t recall much from this grade, except that I was a wrestler (they actually had an elementary program), and the playground at recess. The following year, we moved to Cedar Rapids, near Hiawatha. I went to Nixon Elementary. My Second Grade teacher was Ms. Pershing. I remember joining the cub scouts, and receiving my first lessons on this thing called AIDS. There was only one kid smarter than me, Brian, and I was intrigued by him. For a second grader, he knew a lot. Then came third grade. We moved across the street. This is a period of friends. First was Pete. He was my best friend (go Ninja Turtles) until he moved to Pennsylvania. Then I found Matt Hart. Me and Matt are friends to this day, though I haven’t seen him recently, we haven’t lost contact. Then there was Sean Morrison. He was my connection to the cool world. I also had my enemies here but I explained all that in chapter one. I remember the first detention I ever got was here in third grade. I was at recess and I told a kid to punch me. He did, and broke my glasses, so I told on him. Everything was going right until it was found out that I told him to do it, then I got in trouble. I never did like that principle.

I suppose that wraps up my early school years, and there’s a lot more where that came from, but there’s only so much time, and so much space on a piece of paper. So I leave you with the greater occurrences of my early school career.