Estelle Stephens was my first grade teacher. The First Grade Classrooms were on the first floor to the right of the main entrance to North Shore Elementary School— PS #70 — in Jacksonville, Florida.
Our classroom was right across from The Office–the Principal’s Office, at the time, Mr. E. L. Loundsbury, an older (with silver white hair), dour, stern, aloof man whom I would get to know soon enough. He would be responsible for my first sin.
Well–my first deliberate Sin.
Well–my first very deliberate sin.
My memories of Mrs. Stephens are of a strict, but fair, disciplinarian. As we were copying letters with the thick, brown pencils used by First or Second graders, or some other task, she would quietly circulate around the room. Woe be to the inattentive.
She carried a yard stick and would materialize from nowhere and Whack the ruler down on the desk next to the miscreant who might be dawdling or talking or, in my case, considering what mischief I could get into with Helen Bealey’s beautiful brown ringlets hanging down right in front of my admiring eyes.
© Tracy D. Connors 2015 All Rights Reserved