I am submitting the following for a story in a book that will be published later in the year:
This is my story of how an amazing woman changed my life so completely.
When I was seven years old, my father was killed in Vietnam. He was returning from a routine flight over Vietnam in a fighter jet and crashed just three miles short of the runway. No one can explain the crash or why he was even flying that plane. You see, he was trained on the big planes, the B-52 bombers. Why he was flying a jet is still a mystery. His plane was not shot down, nor did he report any mechanical difficulties. It just went down. He was pinned beneath the wreckage and it is said that he died instantly. His co-pilot ejected, but at such a low level, broke his back. The search and rescue team found him, with his parachute still attached, leaning up against a tree.
The black car, with the two men dressed in full Air Force dress uniforms knocked on the door of our tiny duplex in Lincoln, Nebraska, before school, on September 20th, 1968. After they left, I remember sitting, with my younger brother, on my mom's lap and just crying our hearts out.
Later that week, we had to fly to Long Island, New York because that's where my dad was raised and where the family burial plot was. (His mother did not want him buried in Arlington. She wanted him closer to home, as he was her only child.) I remember staying at my grandparents house with a family member during the church service because my mom thought it was best that my brother and I not go, and then being picked up and taken to the graveside service.
Upon returning home, I remember being so afraid that something would happen to my mom and not wanting to go to school. I remember screaming and crying under the dining room table that I didn't want to go to school. The logic of a seven-year old: My dad died when I was in school, so maybe my mom would, too.
Enter two women for whom I will never be able to repay their debt-Louise Shuman and Maxine Moore, the elementary school counselor and my second grade teacher, respectively. My mom would drop me and my younger brother off at the designated door each morning and one of these ladies would be there, waiting for us. I remember spending time in Mrs. Shuman's office, coloring and talking. What I remember most is Mrs. Moore.
Mrs. Moore would allow me to come into her classroom before the rest of my class to do odd jobs for her, which included sharpening pencils, passing out papers, and the like. These are things she would have normally done herself, but she saved them for me. We would talk and this would allow me to feel comfortable in the classroom before the rest of my classmates arrived. Her compassion, caring, and understanding were game-changers for this scared little second-grader!
You would have thought the story ended there, but it did not. The next year my mom remarried and we moved to a farm a couple of hours away from Lincoln. However, we still kept the same dentist. Every time we'd go to the dentist, we'd have an after-school snack with Mrs. Moore. Secretly, my mom and Mrs. Moore collaborated to make this happen! So, I never lost that connection that Mrs. Moore and I had built.
Along the way, I had many other highly influential teachers. Mr. Larry Fletcher who taught high school English. Mr. Fletcher taught me that learning can be fun! Each week, we'd play "Password" with our spelling words. In the rural farming community where I grew up, class sizes were small. One section of English met during Band, so all of the Band kids had English together. When we competed it was always boys against girls and the girls always won! The overly-competitive boys could never figure out how. Here is our secret: We all knew sign language! My mom was a speech pathologist and one of her students was deaf. She taught him...and me...sign language, which I, in turn, taught to all of my friends. It didn't matter who was in the seat for "Password," because we all knew sign language!
Mrs. Diane and Mrs. Collen Norvell (now Sipich) taught me the value of music. Going to music contest was the highlight of my high school years! We listed to so many talented musicians on those trips. I have life-long friends from other schools because we have bonded over our shared love of music. I still love to sing and play the piano.
Mrs. Fran Conneally. Fran was the Queen of Handouts! She was forever copying news article for us to discuss in class. She was the only teacher I ever had in high school that asked us to do a research paper, complete with sources and a bibliography! I am so thankful for her passion and her leadership. I'm pretty sure I would never had survived college without all that I learned from her!
Years later, I returned to Lincoln for college. I bet you can guess who wrote one of my reference letters for acceptance into the University of Nebraska-Lincoln! Because of her amazing influence and compassion, I, too, decided that I wanted to be a teacher! I had a double major in Elementary Education and Early Childhood Education with a minor in music education. Many evenings you could find me at Mrs. Moore's home, studying and talking about issues in education. In addition, on those weekends that I didn't go home to the farm, you could find me at Sunday dinner with the Moore family!
Now in my thirty-third year of teaching in the area of Early Childhood Education, Mrs. Moore is on my mind each and every day! She was the first teacher, of so many, to have a positive impact on my life. I do my best to emulate the care and compassion I learned very early on from Mrs. Moore. The relationships teachers build with their students can be long-lasting. You never know how your influence on the life of a child will take them! In all that you do, show every child that you love them and want what's best for them. This is something I learned from my second grade teacher, Mrs. Maxine Moore!
