It was a warm and cloudy summer day when I spent some time visiting with my Granny at her grave at Dock’s Creek Cemetery. We talked about my retirement and my career and living in Florida. I told her how proud I was of my wife, Shan, and all the awards she had received for her lifetime of professional work. I chatted with her about my children and her new great, great grandchild. I know she was smiling down at me as the sun appeared from behind the clouds. Granny was buried with her two husbands, Papa Ham and Papa Tib, both of whom I loved, and I briefly talked with them as well. As I drove the narrow roads out of the cemetery the sun disappeared behind the clouds again. I somehow ended up at Hillcrest Cemetery. I didn't remember this cemetery. For some reason I stopped, decided to get out of the car, and walked around. I’m not sure why but I approached one headstone. Just as the sun reappeared again, I noticed that it said Charlee Campbell 1919-2005. She had been my first-grade teacher. Fond memories came flooding back to me.
It was a typical elementary school classroom with the wall behind Mrs. Campbell’s desk covered with a large black chalkboard. The floor below the chalkboard was always covered with chalk dust. Each Friday she would select two of us to take the erasers outside to the school yard and hit them against either a tree or the building to beat the chalk dust out of them. On the back wall Mrs. Campbell had all the numbers one through ten and the letters of the alphabet in plain sight for everyone to see. Above the letters was a large picture of the head of George Washington. George wasn’t smiling, and it looked like his head was resting on clouds at the bottom of the picture. Mrs. Campbell had small pictures of President Roosevelt and President Eisenhower on the wall next to her desk. She had also taped a newspaper picture of John F. Kennedy on the wall. We all thought it was funny because he was standing on a baby’s highchair while giving a speech to some people.
It was mid-morning and time for our milk break. We all lined up to put a nickel in the milk machine to get a pint of either white or chocolate. I always got chocolate. My Granny Lanham gave me a nickel to take to school each day so I could get chocolate milk. Mrs. Campbell always had a nickel for kids who didn’t have any money, and she always gave it to them when she thought no one was watching.
After our milk break on Mondays, we were always tested for word recognition. I looked at the first set of four words and I circled the word “some” before Mrs. Campbell said it out loud. I continued to pick the word we were supposed to circle before Mrs. Campbell said it out loud. I simply thought about what we had talked about the past week and somehow, I could look at the list of four words and guess which one Mrs. Campbell was going to tell us to circle. Mrs. Campbell walked up and down the aisles watching all of us take the test. She noticed that I could predict the word she was about to say. I looked at the next list of four words and circled the word “but.” Mrs. Campbell watched me circle the word and she asked me what word I thought she was going to say. I knew the word was going to be “but” yet I was embarrassed to say “but” out loud as all the kids would laugh at me. Rather than say “but” I told her it was “both.” She put her finger on my paper where I had circled “but.” She smiled and then told all of us to circle the word “but.” There were several giggles when she said the word. She understood that I was embarrassed to say “but” in front of the class. Mrs. Campbell had the wonderful gift of empathy. I continued to pick the correct word before she said it on the word recognition tests that fall.
I didn’t find out until later in life that Mrs. Campbell had talked to my mother about my reading and comprehension skills. Mom had taught me to read by the time I was four years old and what we were reading in the first grade did not really challenge me. Mom was an avid reader and I no doubt received my love of reading from her. After the talk with Mrs. Campbell, Mom began to take me to the library on a weekly basis to check out books that Mrs. Campbell told her would be more challenging. By the end of the first grade, I was reading The Hardy Boys series which quickly became my favorites.
As I went through each grade at our elementary school, Mrs. Campbell would always ask my teachers and my mom how I was doing. Of course, I knew nothing about this until many years later. Mrs. Campbell lived just a few blocks from our house and even when I was in junior high school and high school she would periodically show up and talk with mom to see how I was doing. My mom told me to go see her just before I left for college in the early summer of 1972. I knocked on the door, she answered and smiled. I told her I was leaving for college. She commented on some of the poems I had written in high school. I don’t remember much of our conversation, but I know she encouraged me to continue to read extensively and write no matter what career I chose.
I honestly hadn’t thought much about Mrs. Campbell since college. That day at the cemetery, I told her I had been a professor and had written two books and many journal articles. I told her I had been a teacher, just like her, just as she had taught me. I found some change in my pocket and put a nickel on her headstone after making sure no one was around to see what I was doing. I told her she could buy a chocolate milk today.
Dedicated to Charlee Campbell (1919-2005)...
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