Robert Burkett

 SCHOOL YEARS

GRADE SCHOOL

My family moved to 1705 Michigan Ave the summer I turned 6 (1942). There was no kindergarten in those days so we waited for first grade. I loved school for a number of reasons, one of which was that it got me away from the chaos that was our home. I was a good student I think. I received straight As all through 1st to 6th grade. I loved the spelling Bees which were a part of learning. Don't know if I ever won one but was never first to sit down. Our principal for grade school was Mr Glass, who's son Malcolm was and is a friend all through school and beyond. One of my "crowning" achievements was to be appointed a crossing guard. Yes they did use students.

Thanks to Michael Overstreet for the photo. I couldn't find my copy. Most of my fellow guards have passed on but there are still 2 or 3 left. I'm lower left, Malcom is upper left and his dad is upper right. I don't think we ever arrested anyone but we sure looked official!

My cousin Juanda and I had quite a few adventures, but one that stands out is perhaps unique to the south. On one of her good days we walked about 5 miles (I think we were 10 or 11), all for a Nehi chocolate soda. If you've never experienced one, they are delicious! I'm pretty sure we collapsed when we returned to her home.

My cousin Juanda at 10 or 11. Thanks to my cousin Margaret for the photo.

The only other significant occasion I recall was around Christmas one year. We often had hand me downs for Christmas but this particular year I was given a brand new cowboy suit and hat(really chaps and a hat). I couldn't wait to show my friend on the next street over so I ran all the way there. I guess his dog (a German Shepherd) didn't recognize me and jumped up and bit me by the throat, missing my jugular by 1/4 inch. I wouldn't even let his parents help me. Not only was I bit but my brand new cowboy outfit was ruined! Oh well, there went that friendship. I was forbidden to go back over.

Oh yes, now that I think about it there was another accident in which I was involved. I had just gotten a brand new (to me) bicycle. As I started to race off, our cocker spaniel (Captain or Major: I always get them confused) cut in front of me, throwing me from the bicycle and removing quite a bit of skin. I went crying to my mother (BIG mistake) and she told me to quit whining and proceeded to wipe my back with merthiolate. If you are not familiar with the substance let me say it is like having hot coals put on your back and no way to cool the skin. Lesson learned, do not run crying to my mother.

Oh my goodness another little memory just popped up! After school one day, instead of going home (I walked to school as it was only 1 mile) I went to a friend's house. It seems like it was kind of a rural setting as there were pine trees around. Anyway we somehow were able to get our hands on a 10 gauge shotgun. I thought it would be neat to shoot a pine cone from the tree, so I reared back, took aim at that pine cone and wound up flat on my back bruised all over my shoulder. Lesson learned, 80 pound kids should not point a 10 gauge shotgun up!. Not only that but I received a butt beating when I arrived home for being late.

I started working while in grade school. There were no allowances in my family. If we needed spending money we earned it,  and not with household chores. Those were expected!. So, I started a paper route when I was about 9 or 10. I delivered Grit newspapers which I believe was a once a week paper. I had about 100 customers from whom I earned about 1cent a week (That's $1 folks). It sounds pretty good except I also had to collect and guess who paid if the customer didn't (Clue: it wasn't the paper). How much I really earned is debatable but at least I had some money for Nehi sodas for my cousin and me.

Another highlight during this time was a trip to Homosassa to see Graypop and Grandma. On this occasion he took us out in his boat to pick up oysters. I'm not sure who all was in the boat but I have a fond recollection of my dad cracking oysters open and eating them from the shell. Next we stopped at one of the little islands in the gulf and my grandma fried oysters for the rest of us. A side note, I love oysters on the halfshell and have been to Savannah Georgia on River Walk many times to consume them and Bloody Marys. If you don't drink I'm sorry; maybe you can have tomato juice.

If you are unfamiliar with oyster fishing, it used to quite an art. There were no commercial oyster beds so a fisherman had to know where the oyster beds were located and they used some type of apparatus to retrieve them. An oyster knife was (and probably still is) a flat bladed heavy instrument to fit under the shell in order to separate the 2 halves.

One last memory of grade school revolves around our cat, Quincy. I don't know if he was named for my uncle or not but I suspect so. Anyway, we were on our way to Grandmas and had to stop for gas. While at the station, Quincy decided he had gone far enough so he jumped from the car and ran. Look as we could, we didn't find him so we went on our way. Two or three days later, when we arrived home, here was Quincy waiting for us! Mind you, the service station was 20 miles or so from home. I hear about animals doing this but this is a first hand experience for me.

I only remember names of 2 of my teachers from this time, Ms Steele (aptly named) and Ms Driggers. Ms Steele was either 1st or 2nd grade and had a habit of disciplining by hitting a student on the knuckles with a metal edged ruler. (OUCH!!) Ms Driggers was my 5th grade teacher and she loved me. She wanted me to skip 6th grade but my parents wisely declined. I was too small and too young. I'm sure there was other trouble I caused but another thing that stands out was my mother and Larry and I. She would make us cut our switch before hitting us, but she was deathly afraid to climb a ladder. So, Larry and I came up with a grand plan to avoid the switch. When threatened we would climb a ladder to the attic. It turns out this was not the greatest plan ever. We had an attic fan to try to give some air to the main part of the house but the attic wasn't included. It was HOT up there. Another lesson learned. A hot attic is not cool when it is 95 degrees!

I'm right, Larry in the middle