Sixth Grade Summer

By Kay.D. Did

Read about a neighborhood of All-American kids, growing up. The stories will make you laugh and maybe cry.

School was cool! Freedom and free thinking ruled the day. Girls were going through a revolutionary change and boys didn't have a chance. The boys were learning that the girls really did have something special.

Summer romance and first loves are some of the many stories; but baseball, treeforts, fighting and much more are part of the story. Who knew girls could become sharks?

"Out of the depths of the dark sea, Candy appeared like a large shark, with deep, dark eyes. It was like a scene from a prison movie; she swam by my table and dumped chocolate milk in my lunch tray. The boys laughed and had a heyday with that one. We went out to recess. As soon as Russ, Skip and I hit the exit doors there appeared Candy and her goon squad of six girls. Betty Smith, the Amazon Woman, Janet Betts, Ms Butch America, and several other girls who had hair on their upper lips. Betty said to Skip, "You're gettin' your ass kicked shrimp!'"

This excerpt is just one of many fun filled, action packed tales.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Educational Publisher/Biblio Publishing
• Release date: Jul 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781622492732

Book preview

SIXTH GRADE SUMMER

by

KAY.D.DID

Published by The Educational Publisher Inc. at Smashwords

Copyright©2015 KAY.D.DID

ISBN: 978-1-62249-273-2

Dedication

To ALL Kids; ours, theirs and so on,

growing up and gaining experience.

Published by

The Educational Publisher Inc.

Biblio Publishing

BiblioPublishing.com

Columbus, Ohio

Contents

Introduction

The Neighborhood

School

Fall

Winter

Back to School

Spring

The Rings

Summer

The Pool

INTRODUCTION

This is a true, real, All-American story. It was a year we all lived through and one I'll never forget. What happened that year is unbelievable, or just "wow"! It would be much easier to read this book skeptically with disbelief, but how about allowing yourself to go back to a time of innocence? To a time when you experienced life with great passion? Please, find a comfortable place, let your mind travel back in time, and allow yourself to remember. You might enjoy yourself.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Our neighborhood was big! It was divided into four parts; Old Town, or the south end, was the original downtown. You could walk to the post office, doctors’ offices, hardware store, pizza shop, general store (the malt shop), restaurant, fire station, garage, two gas stations, barbershop, gun shop, and the middle school. The center, or heart of the neighborhood, was built in the late forties and early fifties after World War II. The houses were all three-bedroom ranches built on slabs. If the house had a garage, it was usually separate from the house. There were over a thousand of these houses. The west side of the neighborhood had larger, older houses. It had a park, baseball diamond, and convenience store. The north end had nicer custom-built homes with big yards. There was a private club with a swimming pool and two lakes. The creek we played in started from a spring in the north end, ran the entire length of the east side, and spilled into a river on the south end. The east side, the place where I grew up, had a group of custom houses built on basements located on three cul-de-sacs that looked like a cloverleaf. It was the newest addition in the late sixties. They put in stairs and a bridge to the Catholic Church property. It had woods, a creek, a farm, big fields, two baseball diamonds, and two basketball courts. There were sidewalks all the way to the elementary school. The neighborhood was naturally formed by two US state routes, two tributaries, and two major streets. You could walk or ride your bike to any part of the neighborhood.

The people that made up our neighborhood came from all types of backgrounds. Our parents had different religious beliefs, different types of work, and different levels of education. Most held factory jobs and were tradesmen; but many had jobs as teachers, engineers, nurses, doctors, lawyers, government workers, and so on. It was the All-American melting pot. The neighborhood came alive as if it were one being. Our religious beliefs and whose dad made more money was sometimes a fight between us kids; but not all the time.

Where I lived on the east side of the neighborhood, there were less than thirty houses. We called this the courts. Much of this story takes place in the courts. There were a couple hundred kids in the neighborhood when I was in the sixth grade. We were divided up into smaller groups within the neighborhood. The center had two groups: one led by Alex, my best friend, and Phil, a good baseball pitcher. The center had the most boys. The north end had Brian, Carl, Mark, Patty, and Debbie. The south end had Betty, Sheri, Tracy, and Eddie. The east side is a longer list, but of course, these kids were the kids in the courts. Candy and Heidi were my best girls and Scott, Steve, and Matt were my buddies. My sister Susan, my brother Bobby, and his friend Max, were just some of the others. During school we were all together, but in the summer we stayed in smaller groups close to home. The neighborhood was always full of activity. We played baseball, basketball, kickball, wiffleball, rode bikes, and went skateboarding; we played kick the can, ghost in the graveyard, HO slot cars, went fishing, built forts, and had snowball fights and play-fights; we played croquet, yard darts, dodgeball, rode minibikes, and shot BB guns; we played with baseball cards, fireworks, damns, tunnels, rope swings, even caught crawdads. From morning until dark there was nonstop playing. We lived and played outside.

SCHOOL

I guess this is where the story really begins. I can't tell the tales of the summer unless I first start with the sixth grade school year. School started that year with great excitement! We were the oldest kids in school that year. Our elementary school had first-through-sixth grades. This empowered us by being the oldest students in school. Everyone had new school supplies and new clothes to start the year. My friend Candy had bellbottom pants, platform shoes, and some crazy sunglasses. Mom said she would be sent home. My buddies and I had new Converse tennis shoes and Levi jeans. We all walked to school from the courts. I was a member of school patrol. Patrol people went to school early to be given their assignments (on the crosswalk, in the halls, etc.).

The sixth grade teachers that year were very nice. We had four teachers, and the classes all switched from teacher to teacher like in high school. This year was different from any other year we spent in elementary school. My homeroom teacher's name was Ms. Collins. She was the coolest teacher ever. She had blonde hair and was very attractive. The car she drove was a really far-out VW Bug. She was a real hippie chick! I am sure she was a flower-power child of the sixties. Ms. Collins' attitude and teaching style gave us a new experience. All the kids really liked her. The girls thought she dressed cool and that her boyfriend was a sharp dude. Instead of grades, she gave points earned that would equal grades. At the end of each week we could use our points to buy great stuff. Everybody worked harder at school to be able to buy stuff. I don't know what happened that year, but it seemed as if Ms. Collins was the leader of a girl revolution. The girls dressed differently and acted differently, and the boys were confused and excited at the same time. Whatever was going on, we were all happy that she was our teacher.

The other teachers were older. The older teachers were nice but somehow I think Ms. Collins put some pep in these older teachers’ step. Not only was her grading different, we were even allowed to sit any way, anywhere we wanted. Our classroom was anything but normal. We did not have rows of chairs facing the blackboard. We sat in groups facing each other by ourselves anywhere in the room. Some faced out the window. Some kids sat on the floor. Some stood up to a taller desk. It was your choice how to learn.

The four classes rotated and all the kids experienced Ms. Collins. All the kids thought she was cool. I don't know, but all this freedom and free-thinking was too exciting. The girls started something new that year: passing notes. The notes changed everything! What the girls said in the notes got the boys excited. The girls were changing. They were talking and walking differently. Perfume was in the air. The girls’ clothing and jewelry all changed. Girls were wearing something called a training bra. I don't know what they were training for, maybe the change. The boys were dazed and confused. What did this mean? What was going on? These girls that we grew up with were forward and becoming downright pushy. Hold onto your seat because this story is just getting heated up.

FALL

In the fall, the boys from my side of the neighborhood went camping. We were all Boy Scouts. Steve and Matt Lynn, Scott Miller, and I enjoyed camping and scouting. Mr. Lynn would take us every week to our scout meetings. We had several camp-outs each year. That fall Scott and I shared a tent together on one of our outings. We decided not to set our tent with the rest of the troop on a dry ridge. What a Tenderfoot mistake! We put our tent in a depressed area in the ground and it rained that night. The tent flooded. Genius. It rained all weekend, and we were the laughing-stock of the troop. I snuck out of the tent the first night and slept in Matt's tent. Scott went to Steve's tent. Dwayne Simon, the poster child Eagle Scout, gave us a lot of crap. In the morning, Scott and I reset our tent and dried our stuff under a fly tarp the best we could. Our sleeping bags were not wet because we used plenty of plastic on the ground. Our packs saved our clothes. We survived. We got back at the boys who laughed at us – mostly the older scouts. Scott and I shot number one and number two at the shooting range with 22-caliber rifles. We beat Mr. Eagle Scout and the dads. That's right – we bad, we bad!

Thanksgiving was different that year because I was allowed to go hunting with Dad. I had a single-shot twenty-gauge shotgun with a modified choke and the hammer served as the safety. I earned the privilege to go by passing Dad's tests: 1. I had to be able to pull the hammer and release the hammer safely, and 2. I had to hold my gun properly; I passed, and Dad had confidence in me. Dad said, Use your common sense. Don't get excited, and be damn sure that you see what you're going to kill before you pull the trigger.

We went hunting about an hour away from home. The woods we hunted had large old trees. We hunted squirrels and brought them home for Thanksgiving dinner. Dad showed me how to skin and clean them. Mom soaked them in salt water. She prepped them and cooked them with the turkey and other goodies. My sister, Susan, was totally grossed out! She thought it was sick to eat poor little squirrels. My grandmother did not eat any because I think she'd eaten more game during The Great Depression than she would like to talk about. Of course, Candy had to come across the street to taste the squirrels.

That fall, I got my first note from a girl; she lived in the north end of the neighborhood. Her name was Patty Cross. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and was very pretty – but she was fully developed. She had big you-know-whats! The note was weird and exciting at the same time. She and a girlfriend made a football-shaped note and slid it across the hall from another classroom. One of my buddies got the note. He said, Read it, read it!

The note said,

"Hi, I'm Patty and I really like you.

Do you like me?

Yes__ or No__"

I thought it over for a minute and then checked the yes box. I sent it back across the hall. I did not understand what I had done, nor how Patty was going to act. It was the beginning of the Wow!

It was not long after that I got a note from my best (girl) friend Candy. She was the greatest tomboy, friend, and cutest neighbor girl a boy could want. She was not having this Patty chick as my girlfriend. I got an earful from Candy. She told me that Patty was loose. Did she need to tie her shoes? Oh well, I thought Patty was nice. I did not care what Candy said. This argument about Patty would build throughout the school year. It would come to a heated fight in the summer.

Candy was a special friend.