‘School Daze’ are here once more

The last two columns were about World War II which depressed me, so I’ll try a little levity this week about my first day in school.

I had my 88th birthday last week, August 4th and I thank all my Facebook friends for remembering and also thanks to the ones who spent a stamp. (How much are they now? I’ve been buying “forever” stamps for so long that I forgot). Heck, I go back to a time when they were three cents for more than 20 years.

Now, picture me in short pants, a little tie, slicked down hair (we used brilliantine then) and an apple for the teacher. On second thought, don’t picture that — I wanted to add a little levity, not a farce.

All the mothers were there, all dressed to the nines. I wonder who they were trying to impress. It was Great Depression time and everybody was poor, and the few rich folks sent their children to boarding school but first day of school was a special day to the Cajuns.

Since my near death experience when I was two, my maiden aunt Sara had lived with us and practically raised and educated me in my formative years. I don’t know if it was mandated, but seems like every Cajun family had a “Maiden Aunt”, who never married or had a home, but was like a relief pitcher — always ready to come and save the day when a family had problems like mine With my asthma keeping the neighbors awake (screen Windows, no A/C) and Mama having to peel shrimp to supplement a trawler’s meager income. She stayed with us until the day she died in her 60s and we loved her dearly. She taught me my prayers, numbers to 100, and the alphabet. She even taught me the National Anthem (remember that fact for later).

My mother told my teacher how smart I was, knowing my alphabet and all as the door opened. I don’t remember a school bell, but they had to have had one. (Mom had left out one important point While talking to the teacher)

After the teacher introduced herself, she announced to the class, “We have a smart student.” She continued, “Leroy come and recite the alphabet.” I stood there dumbfound until a student Whispered, “te A, B, C’s.”

I proudly started “ah, bay, cet, day, eau,” and the teacher stopped me, seeming befuddled.

“HOW about the numbers, Lemy?”

Again, a classmate Whispered, “te numero” and I began, “un, deaux, trois, quatre, cinq. …”

The teacher finally caught on. “C’est bon, Leroy” and she continued talking to me in French.” You’re telling me that you know all that, but in French?

I answered “Gui,”

“Now, try the Natlonal Anthem,” she asked.

I began, “Allon, enfant de la Patric. …”

It was “The Marseilles,” the French Anthem.

“Thank you, Leroy, now class we better all sing “The Star Spangled Banner” before we get in trouble. She had a good laugh.

French was the only language Aunt Sara ever knew. We seldom spoke English in my house and the only word Aunt Sara knew was “Cokeacola,” which with two aspirins was the only relief she had from constant migraine headaches she had her entire life. She made great hoghead cheese, which I sold for her by the slice.

“Your Aunt Sara made that? Better give me another slice,” my friends often said.

She was known for it.

I know she’s in the first pew in that great Cathedral above waiting for me With Mom and Dad and my son Mike. Spread some good words for me, gang, I need all the help I can get.

Note: The attached picture was a play around 1936 with different grade students. I was a “Blade of Grass.” I’m on the last right first row, next to Aunt Sara.

The girl standing first left is Lorina Griffin Prestenbach, from Chauvin, La. The third boy right at her feet is Louis Leblanc, Jr. I stopped identifying when I realize that most of them are gone Which just made me sad. Maybe my readers can help.

This joke that would not have been understood back then for obvious reasons. Teacher is holding place cards With numbers. She flips no. 10 and goes to the next one. “Jane” she calls “That’s easy,” said Jane “It’s Pause”! BYE NOW!

‘My mother told my teacher how smart I was, knowing my alphabet and all as the door opened. I don’t remember I school bell, but they had one.’

‘School Daze’ are here once more

In this week’s column, Historical Columnist Leroy Martin tells us about his first days of school — a time when French was still his primary language.

COURTESY