Block 37

I can still remember

eagerly checking the mail

every day  my senior year,

after I put  my application into Ball State.

At that time I didn't know

that a state supported school

had to take you

if you lived in that state.

The day it arrived,

I can remember taking

the letter to the couch,

looking at the envelope

with the return address:
Ball State University

Office of Admissions

Muncie, Indiana.

I wanted to open it,

but was worried that,

for some reason,

I wouldn't make the cut.

Finally,

sliding my finger under the flap,

I carefully opened it,

anticipating the best,

but expecting the worst.

I had wanted to go to Ball State

since I was in 3rd grade.

I knew from that time

that I wanted to be a teacher.

I didn't know what kind,

just a teacher.

I slowly

slipped the letter

 out of the envelop

and read it.

THEY TOOK ME!

I laid on the couch

 and cried tears

 of happiness.

Charlie Chickenhawk,

hear I come ! ! ! ! !

(I always called the BallState Cardinal

Charlie Chickenhawk . . .

the human,

in mascot clothing,

ALWAYS looked like

a cardinal version

of Foghorn Leghorn.)

Not realizing

that in the fall,

I would be making the trip

from teenager

to adult.

No longer would I be

Paul & Leah Jane's daughter,

I would start developing,

what would later become,

the persona of

Miss Gaumer.

Looking back now,

it really was a major step.

My brother and I

were the 1st people

in our family

to attend college.

And,

to this day,

out of my two cousins,

two nieces

and two nephews,

only one of the nephews

has joined us as

a college graduate.

One cousin,

one niece

and one nephew

went to college,

but didn't graduate.

I was so lucky.

I made it through college

in four years.

It amazes me

that today,

so many kids

take five and six years.

I know I was lucky.

Mom's father

had owned a local

short haul trucking company.

When he died,

Lee was only a few months old,

he left some money to Mom.

Not a lot by 1969 standards,
but enough

that Mom and Dad

only touched it once . . .

when we badly needed a car.

They left that money

 in the bank

so it would be there,

18 years later,

to help pay

for my brothers

education.

I often think about

what they would have been able

to do with that money

for themselves.

But they didn't.

Our education was a priority

from Lee's birth.

Both Lee and I worked

to earn money for college.

We split our costs with Mom & Dad . . .

tuition paid by Mom & Dad

and we paid

our Room and Board

and had whatever was left over

as our spending money for the year.

Mom said once,

and she couldn't remember which one of us,

came home at the end of one year

with $1 left in our checking account,

but neither of us EVER

asked to borrow money,

and none was ever offered.

Grandpa's money ran out

after my sophomore year.

I didn't know that.

Mom and Dad borrowed money

so I could finish

my last two years.

I am proud of going to college.

I am proud of working

at General Tire

for 3 summers to pay my way.

I am proud that I worked

as a Student Staff

(Resident assistant in some schools)

my last two years to bring

in more money.

Those three summers at GT

let me know how hard

some people worked

to put food on the table,

provide shelter

and clothing

for their families.

I knew on Day #1

that I didn't want to do this

for the rest of my life,

but I respected those who did.

And I knew,

if I ever had to,

I could go back to factory work.

Some teachers

have never

"REALLY" worked.

Hard work,

where you go home

greasy,

grimy

so tired each night

that you can barely stay awake

long enough to clean the dirt off

before you go to bed.

It is a humbling experience.

I know

where my future students

parents were coming from.

I could empathise

with their plights.

I had been one of them,

and could go back

if needed.

I think they knew that to,

without me having to tell them so.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for placing me in a home that valued education. Until I got older, I never appreciated what Mom and Dad had done for Lee and I. Not many kids are that lucky . . . we had to hold our own in the money department as as long as our grades were where they expected them to be, they  helped as much as they could.

Man, this blessings sampler has made me so homesick for Mom & Dad and the life I had growing up. Sometimes I wonder if it is worth having the memories of they are going to bring me such sadness when I remember them . . . even though they were fun times, they will never happen again.

So, thank you Lord for allowing them to happen once. It was a good ride!

Amen