Drawing Blood

One of the things I miss about Dad is the stories that he told.  He had stories for everything and for every time in his life, from growing up on Indiana Avenue in Sebring, Ohio, to times at gas engine shows or Cruise Ins later in his life.

I found a book of images from Sebring in the stacks of things we sorted through at the house.  Since I have big problems just tossing things I don't want in the trash or the dumpster, things that I think might have value to someone, I held onto the book, and today I contacted the Sebring Historical Society about a possible donation.  

 

As I flipped through the book, I found scraps of paper inserted at various spots with notations of page numbers, names of people either in the pictures or mentioned in the narratives, or additional information that he added.

Two pages stood out to me, ironically at the very beginning and at the very end.  

There was a picture at the front of four or five people who were the first graduates from the Ohio Avenue School in 1904.  One of those was a lady whose last name was Beggs.  On the scrap of paper was written a note about this particular graduate.

 

Miss Beggs was Dad's first grade teacher.  During a writing assignment, Dad was drawing circles on his paper instead of practicing whatever letters had been assigned.  She discovered his inattention to the assignment and rapped his fingers with a ruler, to the point of drawing blood.  This angered Dad, even at the age of 6, and he retaliated by throwing an ink well at her.  The last sentence on the slip of paper was this:  "I was sent home."

Dad delighted in sharing that story with us several times over the years.  He had several experiences with teachers who were mean to him, who said unkind things to him, or who affected him by their conversations about him to others, which he overheard.

If this had happened in today's classroom, the parents would probably call the principal and complain, there would be a meeting with the teacher, and the teacher would be reprimanded for punishing a student in this manner, after which she would promise that it would never happen again.

I can imagine the scene in 1928, though.  The little curly haired boy would have trudged home, not sure why he was punished, nursing his hurt and bleeding fingers.  He would explain to his mother as she was caring for his younger brother and maybe the twin babies who had made their appearance.  She would sigh and tell him not to let his attention wander again, to do as he was told, and not to get into trouble again.  She probably also wondered in the back of her mind if this little guy was going to be a perpetual trouble maker at school...and sigh again.

Little did she know that he would be the only one of her children to graduate from high school. Little did she know that he would take classes to expand his knowledge and that he listened and learned every chance he had.  Little did she know that he was a huge influence on his daughters and his granddaughters where education was concerned, and that he encouraged them to learn as much as they could and put their knowledge to good use.

That little boy may have had a rough day at the beginning of first grade and his knuckles may be been a little bruised, but he was one of the smartest man I have ever known. 

So there, Miss Beggs!