I attended Public School 66 in Indianapolis. I walked to school in the morning, home for lunch, and back for the afternoon session. Most of our classrooms, as did many throughout Indianapolis, contained bookcases made by the Udell Woodenware Works, a prominent Hoosier business founded in 1870 by a distant relative of our family.
My memories of grade school are fading as I am in the midst of my 81st year. But one day remains burned in my memory. It remains so because it involves my personal behavior so uncharacteristic that I can’t ever remember doing anything in my life nearly so outrageous.
I believe most people whose paths I have crossed would agree—that I am even tempered. But this was one day I just plain “lost it!” I have no idea what grade I was in or how old I was, but crayons were still a part of our mandatory educational toolbox.
Dick Sunman was a friend of mine and sat right next to me. He was a cute small kid with a blond crew cut, but his concentration skills would have today been of concern to his parents and his teachers. Put bluntly, he had none.
Miss Pauline Hammer was our teacher. Her title “miss” might have hinted at a touch of loneliness. Her last name—Hammer—couldn’t have been more appropriate. She was as tough as nails and ran a tight ship.
On the day in question, Miss Hammer began the lesson by explaining a mathematical process by which one used to solve the problems presented on the front page of our worksheet. She then told us to tackle our worksheet.
Dick, who had been visiting his “other universe,” suddenly realized that he hadn’t been listening to Miss Hammer. As he did every day, he turned to me and asked, “What are we supposed to do now?” Every day it was the same! He always asked me what to do. Without any premeditation or forethought, I looked Dick straight in the eye and said, “She said to turn your paper over and draw a big red airplane.”
Incredulously, Dick said, “What??”
And I replied with total sincerity, “Draw a big red airplane on the back of your math paper and make it as red as you can.”
Dick flipped his paper over and began drawing his “big red airplane.” He was pushing his red crayon so hard; it was flaking off into little red pieces. Dick’s elbow was at ear level. He was pushing so hard on his Crayola.
Unbeknownst to Dick, Miss Hammer was beginning her strut down the aisle to check work and solidify her authority posture. She glanced at Dick’s “work” and screamed, “Dick Sunman, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!????”
Dick replied, “I’m making a big red airplane just like Jerry said you wanted.”
Miss Hammer, her eyes on fire, turned to start on me. Before she could say anything, I took the offensive. “Miss Hammer, Dick never listens to your directions. He always asks me what to do. I’m sick and tired of having to always tell him what to do.”
LONG PAUSE!!!!
Dick was immediately moved out of the alphabetical “S” and “U” section of the room and moved to the front of the room. I hope Miss Hammer got lots of laughs telling this story in the teachers’ lounge that day!
Through the years, I have worked on improving my “understanding and patience” skills.
The P.S. to this story—I don’t remember Dick ever speaking to me again!