What is one of your favorite stories that you tell over and over?

My favorite story, which could have been a complete and total disaster, is the time our band, Front Porch Jam, played On the Waterfront in Rockford.  I decided I needed to relieve myself before going on stage, just in case.  There was a port-a-potty at the back of the stage and so I went inside and did my business.

As you know, port-a-potties are not very comfortable and actually, quite a tight fit.  I arranged myself as well as I could.  Walking out of the potty and starting up the steps to the stage, a lady that had been waiting for the potty stopped me and told me that the skirt of my dress was in my underwear.  Talk about wanting to die just before you are really going to live.

I am so thankful to that woman, whoever she was, for having the courage to tell a stranger that they were going to make an ass of themselves in front of hundred of people.  There are some women out there who would find humor in someone else’s catastrophe. 

Peace be with you.

Who were my favorite teachers in high school and why they were great?

This really brought back some flashes from the past for me.  I had to get out my yearbook and refresh my memory.

My absolute favorite teacher was Coach Ledford.  He was only a few years older than us Freshmen and had graduated from Carlisle High School as we would in four more years.  He was funny and very serious about Biology.  I love dissecting stuff.  He was my homeroom teacher also and so I got to see him twice a day.  Once when we were all kidding around, he had his paddle out and accidentally whacked me on my hip bone.  I cried ouch and he was so embarrassed that he turned all shades of red.  He took me and one of the basketball players to Frisch’s one night after a ball game.  I don’t remember why but I remember I had a Big Boy platter and an extra Big Boy.

Another one of my favorites teachers was Mr. Scott for American History.  He not only taught us dates and shit but told very interesting stories about history.  The best one I remember was when “Silent Cal” Coolege died, Alice Roosevelt asked, “How can you tell?”

We had a new very young, very tiny English teacher in my Senior year.  Her name was Mrs. Crecelius.  Loving English and Literature as I did, I just held on to her every word.  She was very gesticulating in her manner and sometimes we would imitate her.  Like this one time she told us she had this friend, and she held her arms straight out from her body.  Someone in class imitated her and then we all did.  It was so funny.

Our Senior cheerleading advisor was another of my favorites although not really our teacher.   She chaperoned us during practices and drove us to games that were away at other schools.  She was Native American and the first one I had ever met.  She was from North Carolina and had the loveliest accent.

The teacher I spent most time with in high school would be Mrs. Conneroe.  She was our Choir director and she was a blast.  When she directed she would wiggle her behind and looked so cute.  She was an excellent Choir director and we all just loved her.

And of course, there was my beloved Mrs. Vivian Kruse who told me I was a good writer and that I should continue to write.  Bless her heart and soul wherever she may be.

Memories, trapped between the pages of my mind…