Fall 1978 - Jodie McClure Elementary

Welcome to Jodie McClure - Fall 1978

On August 28, 1978, my sister and I attended Jodie McClure Elementary for the first time. This would only be my sister’s second school she had attended up to this point; this would be my fourth. We had no idea what to expect, other than we didn’t know anybody that was going to school there, except for our next door neighbor, Tony. Tony would also be going to the 2^nd grade along with my sister, but Poinsettia was still scared of just about everything that had to do with Jodie McClure, and she was not looking forward to going at all. Myself, I had been the new kid too many times to be afraid, but I still was apprehensive about what to expect.  At least the school was right down the street from my house; I could walk there with my eyes closed. However, my momma and daddy both took us to school that first day, and so as we entered the building, we were shown where each grade level’s classes were, and I took a deep breath and said to myself, Here we go again.

We went to Poinsettia’s class first, and we met Poinsettia’s teacher, Mrs. Elder. She was a large, heavy-set black woman who looked like she didn’t play not at all with little kids, and Poinsettia almost had a panic attack when she saw her. But Mrs. Elder, although she really didn’t play when it came to behavior and learning, would turn out to be one of the nicest people we’d ever meet, and Poinsettia would enjoy going to her class and grew to be one of Mrs. Elder’s favorite students.

Then we went to my classroom, which was on the opposite end of the school. The 4^th and 5^th grade classrooms were in that hallway, and my class was the last classroom on the right. My teacher turned out to be someone who was in their very first year of teaching. So, as it turned out, my teacher and I, along with a couple of other kids, were new to Jodie McClure. My teacher’s name was Miss Stone, who turned out to be the chief of police’s daughter. She was young and pretty, and really looked anything but mean. But as I and my classmates would learn as the year progressed, Miss Stone might look petite and nice, but she could be tough and mean when she had to be.

I liked Miss Stone from the very first day of school. One thing she did was let me, a boy named Douglas Coats, and another boy named Willie Harper, know that we were all new and that we had that in common if nothing else. I looked around the classroom and saw most kids were talking to one another, and that they obviously had known one another for quite some time. I sat in the desk closest to the door, to the far right in a row; Doug sat in the desk next to me, and Willie sat right behind me. That first day of school, I talked mostly to Doug, and just mainly kept to myself.

The second day of school, Miss Stone moved us around. Doug and Willie got moved, but I kept my desk. In front of me, a girl turned around and introduced herself to me. Her name was Tammy. Tammy Allen. We started off being friends at Jodie, talking to one another everyday when she sat in front of me, we would attend the same church later on, go to LHS together, and we’ve been friends ever since. She was the first person who wasn’t new like me who I became friends with. We worked together and laughed together until Miss Stone moved her to the front of the classroom, which really didn’t make me too happy. Then right behind me sat Rhonda Jackson. Rhonda and I would be friends all the way through Jodie, Judson, LHS, Kilgore College, and SFA, but we started out at Jodie also as friends who talked everyday because we sat in front of/behind each other. Rhonda was (and still is) cute back then, and she was not conceited about it at all. Plus, she was very athletic. She could probably kick the ball further than I could back then. Next to her sat Kimberly Harris. Kimberly was a short, very petite girl, who used to call herself picking on me almost everyday, but it was done good-naturedly, and I’d pick on her right back. The way we acted back then, you’d have thought we liked each other, which might have been true. But I never found out for sure. Kim moved away after our freshman year in high school, and by that time, we had gone in separate directions.  Next to me (for a short time anyway) sat Marion Burton. Marion was probably my best friend in the 5^th grade, although Tammy and Rhonda and a couple of others who I haven’t mentioned yet were also close to me back then. Marion was funny, down-to-Earth, and pretty smart. We used to call one another “buddy” or “buddy-ro” all the time, and anytime we had to do things which required partners, he was always my first choice. I kind of lost track of Marion when he went to Foster, and when we entered LHS, he was somewhat different from the person I knew at Jodie McClure. Still, he was a cool guy and someone I really enjoyed being friends with. Another classmate of mine whom I became close to at Jodie was Roosevelt “Roy” Craine. Roy and I became friends rather quickly, and he and I usually would walk home from school together, along with his best friend who was in the other 5^th grade class taught by Mr. Taylor, a guy named Tracy George. One thing we all learned about one other was our love for sports, mainly football, and we’d have football games, kickball, and later basketball games in my front and backyard nearly 2 or 3 times a week. Roy, Tracy, and I have stayed friends to this day, and I really hope we can get together someday and play a basketball game just for old times’ sake.

Other classmates who were in my fifth grade class and who I became friends with as the year went by included Robert Taylor, Charlie Templeton, Daphne Thompson, LaShanda Robertson, Shelby Murphy, Chris Edwards, Tony Reardon, Sherry Mapps, Marty Rives, and Kelly Herron. In the other 5^th grade class, although our classes were in competition with one another, I became friends with Danny Polk, Tracy George, Wytaine Smith, Sheryl Perry, Bridget Wallace, Evelyn Johnson, Renee Owens, Keithen Andrews, Donald Jones, Greg Patton, Ozella Johnson, Tracy Buchanan, Shelia Deutsch, Regina Davis, and Dee Dee Brewer to name a few. And of course, there were a couple of classmates who I just didn’t get along with for whatever reason. More on them later.

When I look back on my 5^th grade year, the number one thing which amazes me is how quickly I made friends with my classmates and without sounding conceited, how popular I was with my classmates in such a short period of time. I say this because I was (and kinda still am) a naturally shy person, and I didn’t approach anyone, they all approached me and wanted to get to know me, probably because I was a new black kid. I remember drawing pictures of super-heroes and football players when I didn’t have nothing else to do, and everyone was impressed with how well I could draw. I can remember all the guys wanting me to draw pictures for them to put in their binders, mostly football pictures. I can also remember how impressed they were at the grades I was making, which were mostly A’s and a few B’s. Miss Stone would let me go around and help some of the classmates who needed help, and not only was it greatly appreciated, but it really seemed to help those who needed it. I really think my classmates liked me more than I thought for that, and it showed where before the end of the month of September, my classmates nominated me for class president.

I was truly surprised at the nomination, and it actually came down to me and Kelly as to whom would win the title of president. The loser would automatically become the vice-president. I lost by one vote, and it’s funny now, but the one vote I lost by was the one I cast for…Kelly. I felt like she deserved to be president more so than I did because she had been at Jodie McClure since kindergarten, and she was smart and nice and friendly, and just a decent person. Of course, most of my classmates/friends didn’t see it that way, and they were mad at me for not voting for myself. But it didn’t really bother me one way or the other, and I’d rather Kelly won anyway. As it turned out, a couple of weeks after the election, Kelly came up and told me she and her family was moving to another town and that in the order of succession, I was going to become the class president. I just stood there in shock and then I wished her well.

Next time: Part 2

Jodie McClure Elementary School, 2008

The Year I Discovered The True Meaning of Christmas

I’ve always enjoyed the Christmas holidays, whether as a child receiving Christmas presents or as an adult giving them. There are three Christmases I will never forget, because of what the Christmas season is really all about and the symbolism surrounding it: 1973, when I was 5 years old and living in New Mexico; 1978, when I first learned what Christmas is all about; and 1982, when I finally acknowledged what I had learned.

I know I was supposed to talk about the Fall of ’78 and when I first attended Jodie McClure, and I will get to that in a future post. But since it’s the Christmas season, and since this is my 50^th Christmas (even though I’m still 49) I felt it would be appropriate to write about the 1978 Christmas, which was memorable for a lot of reasons. First, it was our first Christmas living on Margo Street, and the first we would be able to spend it with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in over two years- some we hadn’t seen in longer than that. Second, this was also the first time in years we had been able to put up some Christmas lights- something I enjoy doing to this day. I will never forget how pretty it was when we lived in New Mexico- there was snow on the ground, snow in the mountains, and Christmas lights were lit all over the mountains (there was a town up in the mountains and at night, with all the lights lit, it was a sight to behold). My parents took us to one of those Christmas tree villages (like the one seen on A Charlie Brown Christmas), and I will never forget how beautiful that was. The decorated trees, the spotlights flashing, the snow-covered atmosphere, and the decorated snowmen, I haven’t seen anything like that before or since. That’s why the 1973 Christmas is so memorable, because of its beauty.

Anyway, back to 1978, when Daddy put up the tree and some Christmas lights, those were the first lights put up since we lived in New Mexico, and my sister and I were excited to see them. However, what made that year’s Christmas so memorable wasn’t anything that happened at home, but it was something that happened at school, Jodie McClure to be precise. Back in the day, elementary schools used to have Christmas programs, and all grades would usually participate. I remember being in the programs when we lived in Abilene and I attended Dyess Elementary, and I can remember one back in the 2^nd grade, but as far as kindergarten and 1^st grade go, my mind draws a blank.

For our 5^th grade Christmas program, we were going to re-enact what Christmas is all about: the birth of Jesus. I can remember our music teacher telling us this, and then she passed out the parts. The part I received was the part of Joseph. My friends Roy Craine, Marion Burton, and Robert Taylor nearly killed themselves with laughter. They was like, “He’s playing Joseph! He’s going to be married and have a wife and a baby! Ha ha ha!” I was like, Who the heck is Joseph? Before you all laugh at my ignorance, I’m embarrassed to admit that at the time, I really had no idea who Joseph or even Mary was. I had a vague idea of who Jesus was, but it was very vague. We had attended church when we lived in Longview earlier, and I had even gone to Sunday School, but they had basically taught us the same thing over and over and over again, which was John 3:16 and Luke 10:27. Nothing more, nothing less. So, by participating in this program, I learned about the birth of Jesus. I would say that I had fun doing so, but that would be a lie. It was very stressful. I learned I was to walk Mary across the stage, push a big wooden donkey, and carry a gigantic stick (called a staff). There were four sticks in all, because the three shepherds had to have sticks, too, and three sticks were of average size, while the 4^th stick seemed to be as tall as the Statue of Liberty and just as heavy. We would race every day to grab the sticks and keep from having to hold that gigantic stick, and just about everyday I was the first to grab a medium-size stick while one of the shepherds had to suffer. I reminded myself to be sure I did that on the day of the play, because it was enough I had to play the part of Jesus’ earthly father and be laughed at every day for my probably pained facial expressions.

Another interesting aspect to this tale was that the girl playing Mary was white. (And the baby doll was white, too.) I don’t know what the atmosphere was like as far as there being a black Joseph with a white Mary; God knows I wasn’t thinking about that- I just wanted to get the whole thing over with- but I wonder whether or not there were some parents (and even teachers) who were unhappy about that back then. Again, that thought never crossed my mind then, and I’m sure that most of the teachers didn’t care one way or another. I know my music teacher didn’t care because she said no one could change their parts. Ok, then.

On the day of the play, my momma decided in all of her infinite wisdom that I would wear a suit, tie, and slacks to school. It was cold that day, but I would have to wear a robe over all of that, and naturally, I would almost burn up with all of that stuff on. I was already nervous, and this was not helping. What also didn’t help that due to my worrying about wearing hot clothes and hoping I didn’t catch on fire on stage, I completely forgot about the sticks, and by the time I went to get one, the only one left was the telephone pole. If I could’ve cussed back then, I would have. Now I had to walk across the stage with a white wife and a baby Jesus, push a big donkey, and carry a big stick, all the while hotter than the sun itself. Somehow, we made it across the stage, then I had to stand there stock-still holding the stick.

I looked and saw more people than I’d thought I see, and I almost passed out. But then I looked again, and I saw Momma and Daddy- and I was shocked, because I thought he had gone to work. But he had taken off from work to see our Christmas program- and although I was sweating like a horse, I actually felt a little better after seeing him there, and I basically just watched him the entire time. When the program was over, I almost didn’t want it to end, and I finally understood what Christmas is all about. That was the second-best Christmas program I was ever in (the best came at church in ’82), and after the music teacher thanked everyone for coming, we all ran to our parents and got hugs. Daddy told me I did really good, and Momma was proud of me, too, and then I asked them if I could go home and get out of that hot suit. They said, yes, and they must have thought I was going to wait on them to take me home, but I didn’t. I got the house keys some kind of way, and then I ran home and changed clothes and then ran back to the school. Yes, although I had not mentioned it, it had been a late morning program.

Later, in 1982, a week before Christmas, I participated in my church’s Christmas program, where I played the part of the innkeeper who had no room for Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus. It was the best Christmas program I had ever participated in. Then, the day after Christmas, December 26, 1982, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior and was baptized roughly two weeks later. That was the greatest gift I had ever received on Christmas, but it all started with the gaining of a little knowledge in 1978- for had I not played the part of Joseph in the school play, I might would still be wondering who the heck Joseph is and about the true meaning of Christmas.