Why Me?

 Here is something I have been thinking about lately. It does not matter what I think, I’m just curious.

Back in grammar school (Waterman Street Grammar School) in the 1940s our principal was Mrs. Whitehead. Miss Whitehead was an old maid that lived in a boarding house on Atlanta Street, just a short walk to work.

Miss Whitehead and I had a special relationship. The first time I got into trouble she bent over to be face to face with me and said she taught my daddy and my uncles and she more or less said she wasn’t going to take any shit from me, she knew all the tricks.

I won’t bore you with some of our run-ins.

But one time we had a buddy – buddy advent.

I don’t remember if I was sitting out in the hall as punishment or she came into class and got me out.

But I do remember it was raining.

She told me to go to a certain house on Alanta Street. After you pass Crain’s Garage there were two or three houses on top of a hump of a hill that overlooked the railroad tracks. I think the house in question was the last house on the right. She wanted to know if the family in question still lived thee.

They were war refugees.

I walked to the house in he pouring rain, knocked on the door, banged on the door, pressed the doorbell button and nobody came to the door and I could not see in because of curtains.

I walked back in the rain and went to Miss Whitehead’s office and told her. She looked irritated like I was feeding her wrong information, or at least getting her floor wet.

I don’t know what I did with my wet clothes. I don’t think she would send me back to class, being wet.

I was wondering what time period this was. I think, time-wise, it was just about when all the prisoners in WWII were freed and they were wondering around Europe looking for displaced loved ones. And some came to America.

I remember just four houses away was a newly arrived Polish family That had two teenagers, a boy and a girl. The girl looked sad and lonesome. The boy tried to fit in but didn’t. Interesting, he wore old man pants. At that time I thought if he just wore denim he might have had better social chances.

And why did Miss Whitehead pick me?