(It has been a “hectic week for us all. In light of the recent school closure, I was transported back to an article I wrote awhile back in which I described my experiences as a schoolchild, and as an educator. I repeat the article at this time. Hope you enjoy!)
“Georgie!!! WAKE UP! Time to get ready for school!”
As I open my eyes on this first day of first grade, I am greeted as I am every morning by the painting of Mickey Mouse that my Daddy created on the wall near my bedroom fireplace…exactly like the one he painted for the Carousel at the old West View Park near Pittsburgh.
Today, Mickey would have the entire day to himself…I was starting SCHOOL!
I jumped out of bed, slipped my feet into my slippers, and hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where Mommy waited for me with my traditional bowl of Cheerios (how could I start the day without the support of the Lone Ranger and Tonto…the spokesmen for Cheerios in the 1950’s?).
Overflowing with excitement, I rushed through breakfast, as Mommy laid-out the clothes I would be wearing today.
Let’s see…white short-sleeved shirt? Check! Argyle socks? Check? Neatly pressed dress pants? Of course! Skivvies? Naturally! Plaid clip-on tie? Yep, again! And finally, my new, shiny-polished Buster Brown dress shoes…each with the label emblem featuring Buster and his dog, Tige, pasted inside (FYI, Tige was an American Pit Bull Terrier!).
OK, breakfast was in the past. With maternal assistance, my new clothes were fitted onto my six year-old body. Using a “man’s comb,” Mommy slicked back my hair with some of Daddy’s Vitalis.
THEN…I was READY!
“UP IN THE MORNIN’ AND OUT TO SCHOOL…”
Since this was my VERY first day, I would be “escorted” across Millvale from our home on Maryland Ave., to the waiting halls of St. Anne’s Parish School…and the waiting nuns. As we closed the front door, and ambled down the concrete steps, we were met by my cousin, Barbara Ann, who lived directly across the street. Although she was a few years older than myself, she also attended St. Anne’s, and had verbally prepared me for what to expect.
As with most of Millvale, homes were primarily placed upon the numerous hillsides…and, as ANY Pittsburgher would agree, the long lines of concrete steps from those hillsides were truly something well-remembered!
Moving down the cantilever of steps, we passed the home of yet another cousin, Gary, who was a year younger than myself. SO…this was NOT his first day of school. Still, his Mom, my Aunt Clara, stood with him and waved as we passed by…wishing me the best day of my Life!
After traveling more than a mile across town, we arrived (at last) at the entrance to my new school. I (we) were greeted at the door by the Principal, Sister Laverne, who, after obtaining my name, assigned me to my homeroom teacher, Sister Sharon. Thereupon, I joined the other 30-plus first-graders in our classroom, and was instructed to remain silent…cross my hands on top of the desk…and await what would happen next.
What happened next was that we were lined-up, two-by-two, and marched silently into the church area of St Anne’s where we would attend Mass.
After Mass, we were ushered back to our classroom, and proceeded to be instructed in the “Art” of handwriting. TO THIS VERY DAY…I DESPISE Cursive Writing…probably because I was born left-handed, but was required to use ONLY my right hand in school. My left hand was tied behind my back! SWELL!!!
THE YEARS GO BY
So many memories of grade school: running down a stairway and smashing my head on an I-Beam; my Mom becoming a 3rd Grade teacher in the same school…the Pirates winning the World Series during my 7th Grade year…the sore knuckles from being smacked with a ruler for talking out loud. Oh, Yes! The Memories! The Memories!
High School was vastly different. Of course, I was “selected” to attend an all-boys Catholic High School in Pittsburgh…North Catholic, to be exact, located then on Troy Hill. Some things, however, remained unchanged…dress pants, sport coat, tie, dress shoes, etc. But, despite it all, I was able to successfully graduate.
Then, on to College!
First: University of Dayton…Pre-Med. But, my sponsor passed away unexpectedly. So, I transferred to Duquesne University, Education. Getting the drift here: all religion-oriented educational experiences. I had NO choice but to BEHAVE! RATS!!! No chance for any REAL fun.
However, it all “paid-off” in the end. After graduating, I was able to acquire employment teaching on the East Coast. Of course, during my years there, I attended graduate school.
But, the years in the East were, undoubtedly, some of the most positively memorable experiences of my Life. I became the Director of Dramatics for a large Eastern school district, and, as such, I directed numerous musicals…and had the extreme honor of affecting the Lives of numerous students.
Many, MANY of these students have sought me out over the years through social media. Their friendship after nearly 50 years gone by is MORE than amazing. Their words have had SO much effect upon myself! I am still learning from them nearly every moment of every day.
ABOUT TURN
In 1975, my sweet Dad Journeyed onward. Mom asked me what I wanted her to do with the home and property in Espyville. I replied that she should place it for sale, since I had no intention of coming back to Western PA. HA!
Not only did I return to proceed with even MORE graduate studies, but I was offered employment by the Pittsburgh City Schools! SO…back I came. Those years were as exciting, rewarding, and memorable as my years on the East Coast.
AND THEN
After many years with the PPS, I placed my educational experiences behind me…or so I thought.
A few years ago, as I was demonstrating my Carousel Carving at Kennywood Park during the weeks in July, I heard a voice speak-out my name, “Mr. Nowack…”
As I raised my eyes, I beheld the figure of a man and his daughter. I recognized the face of Jacob, one of my ex-students. He had sought me out, and wanted to speak with me, and introduce his daughter to me. He told me that he looked upon me as his adoptive Father, and that I had influenced his Life beyond measures I could never imagine. WOW!!! Tears, for sure!!
Over the next few years, the bond between Jacob and myself grew stronger. I attended his wedding, was there at his REAL Father’s funeral, etc. We stayed in close touch through social and phone media.
AUGUST 2ND, 2018
After being declared dead two separate times, and being revived both times that morning, I was Life-Flighted to a hospital in Pittsburgh, where, after extensive surgery, I was placed in the ICU ward of that hospital.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, I beheld not only the face of my wife, but the face of Jacob, my ex-student. He had driven to Espyville, and brought Carolyn to my bedside. Over the next week, Jacob NEVER left my side…he remained there 24 hours of each day, until it was basically certain that I would survive.
BUT…that’s not all! Carolyn had brought my cellphone to me, and suggested that I check my social media pages every so often…would keep my mind “active.”
When I eventually logged-on, I found a veritable multitude of messages…not only from acquaintances, but the majority of correspondences came from my ex-students from both the East Coast and from the PPS. I even had messages from some of my classmates from the years gone by!
AUGUST 20, 2019
As the day wound down into evening, I posted on my social media page the latest update from my Oncology physician (yep, I went through that also). The update he presented to me earlier that day was GREAT!
Remaining incredibly excited, I could barely sleep at all.
So, in the early hours, I returned to my computer. What I discovered was one of the greatest Blessings I have EVER received. There, in response to my post update were innumerable positive responses. And, YES, most of them came from ex-students of mine…the first one listed as having come from Jacob.
A TRUE GIFT
Several years ago, I had the honor of being the Art Instructor for the Crawford County READ Program, under the leadership of Dr. Armendia Dixon.
After the program closed, Dr. Dixon “moved-on” to spearhead the MLK Scholarship and Mentoring Program for the Crawford Central School District. Shortly thereafter, our paths crossed once again.
She requested that I consider becoming the Art Instructor for the MLK Program.
Well, how could I possibly refuse?!?
AS I OPENED MY EYES
“Georgie!!! WAKE UP! Time to get ready for school!”
The painting my Father created of Mickey Mouse upon my bedroom wall showed Mickey placing an envelope into the mailbox outside his home. I always wondered what the message contained in the envelope was all about.
I think I know now. Here’s what I believe it says:
“The first day of school never, ever ends. It rolls onward and develops with the passage of Time. Your learning goes on FOREVER.”
My eyes are FULLY open NOW, Daddy.
Photo is of my Dad and George Nowack back in 1948.