THE DAY THE TEACHERS WENT MISSING

 

The year was 1968 and I was a junior in high school. My home room teacher was there, however when the bell rang and I went to my first class, the instructor’s desk was empty. No teacher showed up! Along with the rest of my class, we waited, still no teacher. Between 10 and 15 minutes later the principal arrived. We were ordered to report to study hall with no explanation.

Half the teachers didn’t show. Again, classes were directed to study hall. Soon we learned the teachers were on strike for an increased salary and budget. Despite this, the schools remained open.

Our new Governor, Claude Kirk Jr. was the first Republican elected to that office since Reconstruction. His personal and management style was combative and flamboyant. After taking office, he took a trip to South America. There, he met and soon married a beautiful German actress named Erika Mattfeld.

On a jaunt to Palm Beach one day, my father stopped at a drug store. At the counter, the woman before him was our new first lady of the state. Dad chuckled that the clerk was fawning all over her. I asked my father if he personally spoke to her. Dad replied that the clerk was doing enough gushing for the both of them, and he had nothing to add.

School was interesting to say the least during this period. We had a series of substitutes, some real weirdos! One in history class told us that a significant part of our grade would be determined as to how well groomed we were. – Not our knowledge of the subject! The next day a different sub was there and never saw him again!

Some classes such as that one, we had a different sub every day. Another, we watched a revolving circle of them. Only one class did we have one who remained throughout the strike. The following year, she was a permanent teacher there.

On TV I watched as our governor stood to address the striking teachers. With a swagger and an upward wave of his hands, he declared “Ok now, let’s hear one big BOO for the Governor!” My mother said he appeared tipsy.

The strike lasted two & a half weeks in our school, longer in others. Finally, an agreement was reached with 10.2 million for educational spending.

Gov. Claude Kirk Jr. was not re-elected.

BOUNDARIES

 

We all have them or should. Some people take them too far, others not far enough. Those of us who’ve been alone a long time seem to have the most rigid ones. I’ll admit I’m one of these.

My stepmother had been alone for almost 30 years before taking up with Dad. She was stone set in her ways with everyone but him. She was his mistress for 18 years.  And if you knew my mother, you’d understand how she was able to finagle her way into our lives!

After my mother’s death, Dad was free to wed her. Before the marriage, she treated my father like royalty. Afterward she alone, ruled the roost. We couldn’t make a move in our own home without first consulting her. My father always made excuses for her, even later when she was displaying clear signs of Alzheimer’s.

But fortunately, and thanks to me, and the high price I paid, he couldn’t pretend forever.

Fast forward to the year 2000. My father was paralyzed on his left side from a stroke and was in a rehabilitation hospital for an entire summer. Every day I visited and wheeled him to all his physical therapy classes.

One morning about 10 minutes before the start of his first class, my father pointed to the therapy room across from him. It led thru into his first session in the adjoining room. He instructed me to take this as a short cut, rather than wheel him all the way around.

Inside, everyone was setting things up. The physical therapist was a muscular man around age 30. He said nothing but made it clear with his chilling stare and body language that I was unwelcome there! His stare reminded me of a snake ready to strike.

The following day, I told my father never again, were we entering that room! We’d continue to take the long way around. I didn’t like the threatening look that man gave me. My father said he noticed and understood.

I have plenty of my own boundaries. Unlike my mother, I don’t give escorted tours of my home. A practice I’ve always found unnecessary and questionable. All but a few rooms of mine are off limits to visitors. Any place they can’t see, they have no business going.

My mother used to say that she loved showing off our home because others were curious. Well, my home is not a tourist attraction, it’s my private space! When I was younger, there were people who probably wondered what I looked like naked. That didn’t mean I was going to put myself on display. I’d rather they remain curious.

And when someone disrespects me, they are expelled from my life fast!