(Click the photo to enlarge, natch.)Some random recollections of my Sherman School days. First, I am so grateful that I went to a school where everyone wasn't the same. I believe that enabled me to welcome and honor diversity in my life. My best pal's dad drove us to school, most mornings. (She was a grade ahead.) Her father owned a 1950-something Volkswagen bug convertible. The thing that fascinated me
every time, was that it started without a key. I loved that.
The other lasting memory of going to this school (during this very year) is being there when President Kennedy was shot. The announcement over the loudspeakers, directing all children to the recess yard. The confusion in the adult faces was clear. People were crying. Once outside, I remember kids killing red ants. An older student approached me and asked why I wasn't crying. Didn't I know that the president was shot??!! Then she punched me, so I cried.
