During the latter half of the 1950’s my family moved from our
small Florida town to an even smaller one just down the coast. This was Hobe
Sound which my grandfather called a hamlet.
I fell in love with this place immediately! To reach our new
house we drove under a canopy of towering Banyan trees and then turned right
onto a secluded floral lane. Our new home (a rental) was located on several
acres and overlooked the Intracoastal Waterway.
A history of flooding must have been the case, because the
house was built high. You had to walk up a staircase to reach the front door,
which was situated on the side showcasing our view of the Intracoastal. In the
evenings, I’d sometimes sit on the front steps. Here, I watched as many
fireflies as stars in the night sky and the moon appeared especially pretty
over the water.
Out back, long steps led down into a courtyard with a low
wall as not to obstruct the view. There, we entertained guests.
A small dock rested on our beach and kitty-corner from it
was a mangrove island. In low tide, my grandfather & I waded out with a
hammer & chisel along with a bucket. We went oystering! It was the first
time I’d eaten an oyster and we ate them raw! I love them that way to this day!
Plus the ocean and public beach was in walking distance of
our house! This place was perfect.
The expansive lot next door was overgrown and wild. The
remnants of a partially built house stood largely concealed by climbing vines
and weeds. It reminded me of an ancient ruin. A tragic story was behind it. A
newlywed couple was in the process of building while the husband was away fighting
in the Korean War. He was killed and construction ceased.
This was my 1st year of school and I was a
transfer student. This being a small community, the schoolhouse consisted of
two rooms across the hall from each other.
The FIRST thru THIRD Grade students were in one large room and the
FOURTH thru SIXTH were across the hall in the other, with one teacher for each.
There was no cafeteria, everyone brought their lunch, but milk for 5 cents was
purchased from a cooler at school. We ate our lunch outside on wooden tables in
the back of the playground. When it rained, we ate at our individual desks.
My 1st day was filled with anxiety. When I
entered, I was as nervous as if I had a gun trained on me! Everyone stared as
if I was naked with 3 navels, goiters growing from my armpits and foot-long
hair sprouting from my loins. Apparently they didn’t see a lot of strangers
here!!!
The teacher was a young attractive woman. She spoke TO me,
rather than down AT me like my previous one. After the lunch bell rang, the
class rushed out into the playground. All the kids from First Grade and even a
few from Second and Third came over and introduced themselves. This small
school was a welcoming one, plus I was a curiosity. Suddenly, I had plenty of
instant friends! This was something new and unfamiliar to me!
To my delight, several of these kids lived close enough that
we could walk or bike to each other’s homes. Again, this place was perfect. I
never wanted to leave!!! But my time here was all too brief.
Right after the school year ended, my mother & I took a
plane to visit relatives up in Detroit. (This was years before it became Murder
Capitol of the Country!) After we returned, Dad announced that he had landed a
fabulous job back in the town we had left. Sadly, we would be moving back.
I’d be returning to that school just up the coast, the one I
hated and never wanted to see again!
But, as fate would have it, I did see many of THESE kids,
again! Later, at Junior High level they were bused north to school in my
municipality since we were in the same county.
However my Seventh Grade year was spent in West Palm Beach
at the “special” school. When I returned for Eighth Grade, I was ecstatic to
see them there! Several, I approached with a big, “Hey, do you remember me from
First Grade?”
Unfortunately, this time I was up against teenage attitude
and cliques which were prevalent at this school. They were polite, but at the
same time distant and dismissive. It was clear we weren’t going to be picking
up where we left off in Grade One.
When I was in High School, my brother wed the cousin of my
First Grade teacher. This marriage did not last and is mostly forgotten by us
both. Its notable how someone can be alive and dead to you at the same time, also
how content you are to keep it that way. Yet, other more distant memories
remain alive and vivid.
The old two-room schoolhouse of which I have such fond
memories eventually became an abandoned and neglected building as well as
another victim of our sleazed-down society. A murder was committed there which
was drug related.
This tiny piece of paradise is now lost to the past, but it makes
the memory more precious and one I cherish.
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