Childhood School Memories
By SYLVIA SAARI FLEISHMAN
When Andy first approached me to write about my childhood memories at Central School, I drew a blank. I thought to myself, “I can’t remember anything from grade school.” Eventually, however, the memories began to surface.
I discovered my love of acting very early when the teacher assigned me the roll of “Mother Goose” in a first grade play. How great it was to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. How important and mature I felt!
Then there was the applause — food for my first grade ego.
When I was in the second grade, my sisters Sidney, Sally, and I were all allowed to go home early one day because my Dad, Bruno Saari, had just returned from Europe near the end of World War II.
My sisters, being older, were able to run the three blocks from the school to our house, leaving me behind. I cried and blubbered for them to wait for me, but they didn’t. When we finally got home and saw my father, I felt awkward and shy, but Dad took care of that by picking me up and giving me a big hug.
Other memories include my teacher, Miss McNamara, and her penchant for square dancing. Oh how I hated it! To me it was so un-cool, but I struggled to smile and do-si-do my partner anyway. The last thing I wanted to do was not please my teacher.
Because I always wanted to be a model student, my face turned red when Miss McNamara scolded me for forgetting to bring a present for a Christmas exchange. She sent me home in the middle of the day to get something that would qualify as a gift for later that afternoon. Mom sent me back with a gift-wrapped jar of jam.
Whew! Saved again and back in Miss McNamara’s good graces.
If memory serves me correctly, I was in the fourth grade when Bill Lusa snuck up behind me while I was taking a drink from the fountain and popped me on the back of my head. I came up missing a chunk of my front tooth. (My apologies if it wasn’t you, Bill.) For a time I was very self-conscious about the chip, but the dentist was able to even it out, and Dad assured me that I had teeth with “character,” so I felt a whole lot better.
Those of us born and raised in Wakefield all know the late Mr. Carl Nelson, band director extraordinaire. I first met him when I was a fifth grader and he introduced me to the trombone.
It was a short-lived introduction, because after two weeks of trying to handle the slide on the instrument, I dropped it on the floor and dented it! I was so embarrassed, I quit taking lessons until I was in the sixth grade at which time Mr. Nelson was wise enough to assign me the alto saxophone.
In the sixth grade, I recall getting caught trying to pass a note to Bill Harvey during class. Also, that same year I joined the Girl Scouts and felt considerable pride when I was selected as the “alternate posture queen.” What more could a girl ask for?
In hindsight, the years spent at Central School were happy ones. It was close to home, teachers were dedicated and caring and students were secure in their environment — a far cry from many contemporary schools today.
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Sylvia (Saari) Fleishman and her husband, Sid, have retired to Wakefield from Florida. She is the first Wakefield grad to respond with a school memories story in preparation for the July all-school reunion.