Funny, but I can't find any photos of me in 6th grade, or even any of our house in the College Hill section of Cincinnati, the school, my friends...nothing but my vivid memories of that year, and photographic memories of our house, the neighborhood and my friends. One of the outstanding houses on College Hill was a perfect copy of the Petite Trianon in France.

My mother found us a beautiful big house in College Hill, checked out the grade school and decided to send us to Public School for a change. This made me very happy, as I could get to know the kids in my neighborhood and make friends, which was sometimes hard, as we moved so often. My Dad was in Regional Sales with General Motors and they moved him on the average of every two years, so it was very hard to make friends and be part of a community. My mother was a big help though, as she made friends easily.

My first lucky break was to get Miss Holland as my sixth grade teacher. She was one of the sweetest, kindest and best teachers I have ever had. One of the smartest things she did that year was to set up a project in the sand box at the back of the room, and tell us all that if we finished our work on any class, we could go back and work on the castle we were going to build there. My friend Cecil and I did a lot of work on that castle. That was a year of very good marks on my report cards.

My second lucky break was to find my friend Cecil. I was the tallest kid in class, but Cecil was almost as tall as I, and a very good student, so we got to work together a lot. Cecil's mother was cool. She didn't make him go to dancing class, but he used to walk me there and then leave. It was a great trial for me, as there was only one boy as tall as I. His name was Tom Avril, and I have loathed him for years, for he would not ask me to dance, but instead asked one of the tiniest girls, a simpering little blond with Shirley Temple curls who wasn't even as good a dancer as I was. I generally got stuck with a rotten little boy named Harry, half my height, who thought it was funny to ask me to dance.

But I digress. To get back to sixth grade and Miss Holland. I have no idea what her first name was, but she had the most wonderful sense of humor. I remember her telling us a story about a little boy who couldn't remember her name, so she told him to think of wooden shoes and that way he could remember 'Holland.' The next time he had to speak to her he stumbled over her name and finally blurted out "Miss...Miss...Miss Wooden Shoes."

In addition, when we got just too wild or exuberant for her, she would stop everything, tell us to sit down and tell us about her childhood. She went with the 'feel' of the class, so we all adored her. The castle project was big, too. Everyone worked like mad to finish their schoolwork so they could go back and work on putting together the castle and village and people who lived there. It was a resounding success.

Some of the extras of the College Hill School were the creative projects that every class did. Each year one class was chosen to give some kind of performance in the general assembly. Miss Holland had everyone in our class write a play. This was perfect for me, as I had a wild imagination and loved to write even then. I chose a marvelous story from a book I loved, "The Wonder Clock." by Howard Pyle; a story called, "How the Princess's Pride Was Broken." Miss Holland liked my play and we put on a performance of it in class. I became the Orson Welles of College Hill, doing the casting, scenery, costumes, staging, direction, etc. of my play. The principal of the school came to see the play as we presented it in our classroom, and we were chosen to do it for all the students of the school and parents who could come. I of course cast my friend Cecil in the role of the Prince. I must have had help from other mothers, as my mother was no good at sewing, but she did help with everything else. Jessie, my mother, was a genius and a great help with everything.

That was one of my most creative school years, and I loved every minute of it. Along with a wonderful school, we had a gorgeous house, with a woods next door, full of wild birds, including two families of quails. The house had a lot that ran down a long ways behind it, with a stream at the bottom of the hill. On the other side were charming neighbors who had two Irish terriers we could play with, and who invited us in for milk and cookies often. Down the street was a house full of children, the Henderson family, with whom we played cards and board games, had great water fights and worked at saving the cherries in their trees from the birds by eating them.

At home we had a dog, Minnie, a white Polish sheep dog with black ears, who looked exactly like an English sheep dog, but half the size, and two ducks named Oscar and Adeline, who were the best 'watch dogs ever.' They lived happily in our long back yard, with a pond to splash in, but if anyone stepped onto our yard, they went running out quacking like mad and nipped at heels until called off.

It was a year of delight. I wish that I could remember Cecil's last name so that I could look him up (are you still alive Cecil?), or the Henderson's first names for the same reason. With all the moves my family made I lost out on having lifetime good friends, which is one reason I tried very hard to keep my children in one spot until they were grown. I am happy to say that my daughter, Whitney (it's a family name), and my son Mark both keep in touch with people they knew in grade school and high school.

If anyone reads this and remembers a tall girl with long, brown braids and my name, let me know, as the name you see is my 'own name' I took back after my divorce. I like it better -- no one could ever spell my ex-husband's name.