Fourth Grade

Fourth Grade Memories

Miss Augusta was my fourth grade teacher.  This photo must have been taken about the time I was in her class, since it looks just like I remember her.  She was an exceptional teacher.  I have used her as an example in many classes I have taught for teachers and students planning to become teachers.  I was always going to write her a letter and tell her what a good teacher she was, but I procrastinated until it was too late.  Thinking back over my fourth grade memories, not a single one is traumatic or negative.

Our Marvelous Coat Closet

On the west wall of our classroom was a long skinny coatroom.  Many  classrooms have a coatroom, but not like this one.  In our coat room was the most amazing thing--a glass beehive with a glass tunnel that led over to the window, so the bees could go in and out.   I remember  watching the bees at work and hoping to get a glimpse of the queen bee.

Another memory of this coat closet happened one winter day
 right after lunch.  Everybody went home for lunch.   At our house, my mother always had us wear an apron to protect our clothes from spills.  That afternoon, standing in the coat closet,  I took off my coat and hung it on a hook.  A girl in my class said, "Why did you wear that apron to school?"  I give her a look.  Then she says, "Oh, did you sew it yourself?"  I don't remember what I said next, but I quickly took off the apron, before someone else saw it and hung it on the hook underneath my coat. 

The Widow's Walk

I do not know why such a house was built in Snowflake, Arizona, which is far from any seaport, but Miss Augusta lived in this house.  It had a widow's walk on the roof like a lot of East Coast houses where the husbands went to sea and the wife would walk up and look out to see if her husband's ship was returning. 

On a clear night, Miss Augusta invited our entire fourth grade class to her house. She took us up on the roof and used a flashlight  to point out all the constellations.  It is the only time I was ever on a widow's walk in my entire life. 

Frogs Eggs

One spring day, Miss Augusta took us on a walk to a pond where we found some frog eggs.  We scooped them up and the next day they were in a huge tub at the back of the room.  I don't remember that they ever hatched into poly-wogs and later frogs.  But, later, after a big flood at the ranch, my siblings and I got frog's eggs and watched then change to poly-wogs and then grow legs and lose their tails to to become frogs.

Speaking Spanish

Miss Augusta had a metal box of pamphlet size books in the classroom.  One of them was about Mexico.  In the back was a section with words to learn in Spanish.  I taught myself to count in Spanish and also phrases such as, "Usted, Amigo?"  I was probably motivated by the fact that Mexican sheepherders often drove their sheep across our ranch and would say to my father, "No savvy d'English." They would often give my father a baby lamb or a goat for the grass that their sheep would eat while crossing our land. I remember having to feed the lamb or kid with a bottle until they grew enough old to eat grass or hay.

The Bear Pit in Bern

You may wonder why I have a bear pit in Bern on my fourth 

grade  blog.  It is because our fourth grade  social studies book  had a picture of it.  Many years later when I took my kids to Europe for a summer, I remembered and wanted to show them the bear pit.  We took a special train all the way to Bern and then a local bus and then walked.  We finally arrived.  We peered down into the bear pits, but there were no bears.  It turned out that it was a Sunday and the bears don't come out on Sunday.  So although I have seen a bear pit, I still have never seen a bear in a bear pit. 

(I looked it up on the internet and it seems that Bern has  built a new bear pit.  The article didn't say if the bears come out on Sundays, now,or not.  My grand daughter, Rachael went there in the summer of 2014 just  in honor of this story)

The Kalamazoo Clu

(Also known as the Culvert Club)

One weekend, I was picking at a scab on my knee, and it began to bleed.  So, as not to waste this good blood,  I got a pen and and notebook and wrote my name in blood.  By fourth grade, I was reading a lot of chapter books and, no doubt, this idea came from one of them.  Now, that I had signed my name in blood, I decided to start a club and get other kids to join.  Of course, they would have to sign their names in blood, as well.

I wanted the club to have a really good name,   I thought and thought. In our side yard, sat an old iron stove with the magical word, "Kalamazoo," written on it.  I liked the sound of it.  What a fun name!  I wrote the new name of the club on the front cover of the notebook.

The next day at school, I explained this wonderful club to my friends and we arranged to meet at recess in the culvert that drained the playground.  Our culvert was big enough for quite a few of us to sit in, but not big enough to stand in.  There was never any water in it.  It was perfect for our secret club meetings.  Several of my friends pricked their fingers and signed their name in blood.   It seems that I didn't get far enough in my club plans to decide a purpose for the club, so after a few meetings, we went on to some other recess activity.





Imagine my surprise, years later, when I discovered that Kalamazoo was not a magical word, but was a city in Michigan and that the stove had probably been manufactured there.





)

The First Time I Tasted Spaghetti 

One afternoon, Pearl Bigler, announced to the class that today was her birthday and we were all invited to go to her house for a birthday party.  She lived a little ways southeast of the town.   A group of kids began walking down the street which was on my way home from school.  My mother was a teacher at the school that year and had to stay after school so I couldn't really ask her permission to go.  I can remember right where I was standing with this group of kids and had to decide to go up the hill to my house or turn the corner and go with the group to Pearl's birthday party.  I chose to go with the others.  It was quite a hike  and part of it was along the railroad tracks.  Maybe we even crossed a railroad bridge because I can remember thinking what should we do if a train comes along. 

This was a surprise birthday party.  That is, it was a surprise for Pearl's mother.  She had not made any plans for a birthday party and did not have a cake made, but she was very resourceful.  While we played, "Red Rover, Red Rover"  she made a big pot of spaghetti and everyone enjoyed it.  It was the first time that I had every eaten spaghetti. 

We all walked back to town together and I went home.  When I got there, Ada, who sometimes worked for us, said to me,"You are in real trouble, your mom and dad are out looking for you right now."  Sure enough, she was right.  I think this was the last time my parents ever had to go looking for me.

Perfect Attendance

At the end of the year, I got the only perfect attendance certificate that I ever received in all my school years.  I tried to figure out why.  Was it because I loved school so much?  Was it because I was extra healthy that year?  No!  I figured it out.  My mother was teaching sixth grade in our same school that year and no one would be home to take care of me if I was sick.