Fourth & Liberty

1. Indian Giver by 1910 Fruitgum Company

2. I Started a Joke by The Bee Gees

3. Traces by Classics IV

4. Proud Mary by Creedence Clearwater Revival

5. Touch Me by The Doors

6. Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In by The 5th Dimension

7. Dizzy by Tommy Roe

8. Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations

9. Son of A Preacher Man by Dusty Springfield

10. Games People Play by Joe South

11. Hooked On a Feeling by B. J. Thomas

12. Time of the Season by The Zombies

13. Both Sides Now by Judy Collins

14. Magic Carpet Ride by Steppenwolf

So the road trip of all time was over and we made our way back to Pennsylvania in time to start school. I was in the Third Grade now and was still going to the old schoolhouse across the street and Mrs. DeChano was my teacher. I was going to miss Miss Jones, my second grade teacher, as she was very much like Miss Honey in the book, "Matilda." Every one in the class loved her. Second grade was a dream. For some reason, the year I was in first grade they bussed us out to Tiona where I had Mrs. McNeal, to whom I promptly informed on the first day of that school year that I was not allowed to bring home anything lower than a 5 (our version of an A) and so she shouldn't give me any! Mrs. McNeal was a good friend and colleague of my Great Aunt Gwen's and I can just imagine the howls of laughter in the teacher's lounge that day! Of course, Aunt Gwen told my mom and, as it goes, it became family lore. I was, at the time, confused as to what was so funny. They had told me I was not to bring home anything less and I was just passing along information. I hadn't learned the whole "you get what you earn" idea. I soon did, but it was no problem. I loved school and put my whole heart into everything. I was a good student and thus brought home nothing lower than an A. I did have problems in the classroom citizenship areas in that I was a talker - or as the teachers put it - "likes to socialize too much." Huh. Some things are constants I guess.

So - back to third grade. The thing I remember most about third grade is one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. You see, I always had a problem with bladder control. Nothing was wrong with me physically, I just was so afraid that I'd miss something that I'd hold it and hold it until, ultimately it was too late and I'd wet my pants. I had no control at night and wet the bed until I was I don't know how old. The problem at night was I was deathly afraid of the dark and if I did wake up, there was no way I was getting out of that bed, hanging my feet over the side of the bed where the monster that I knew for a fact was lurking under my bed was going to get me. No sir! No way! Then, when I got past the monster stage, I had these dreams where I got up and went to the bathroom, only it was just a dream! And I'd wake up and find that I'd wet the bed. It was very frustrating for everyone involved - lots of wet sheets, ugh! Anyway, I'd sort of gotten the wetting the pants under control by the third grade but one day, in class, we were working on a project and I got way involved. I needed to use the restroom but wanted to be sure and finish my project so I didn't take the time to go. We had to clean up our projects and get back to our seats and start the next subject, which I did. But not too long into the lesson I realized I was in BIG trouble. I wiggled and jiggled, hoping to keep it at bay until after class. I guess it was just too much because no matter how hard I tried, it started to leak out. It puddled on my chair and then cascaded down onto the floor, becoming a little stream which rolled down the aisle. The stream formed a sort of arrow pointing right back to me! Finally, one of the kids at the back of the row noticed the water and raised their hand - "Mrs. DeChano, there's a leak somewhere because there's water running down the aisle here!" She came to inspect immediately, of course! We all jumped out of our seats and I tried to be as surprised as everyone else, but the "arrow" wouldn't let me escape and it pointed right to my desk! Mrs. DeChano was as quick as Sherlock in her detective work. The drops from the hem of my skirt probably helped out greatly. She ordered me to clean up my mess and sent me home to change. I did but I did not want to return to class! I'm pretty sure this was the last time anything like this ever happened.

It was as if my parents understood and took actions to help me out of my embarrassment but I know this is not the case - I just like to think of it like this now and then. But, shortly after this incident, we moved away from Clarendon. Not too far - just into Warren - but it would mean a new school for me. New friends - new home - new everything. Warren was huge compared to Clarendon and we were living right down town on the corner of 4th and Liberty. We rented a house but this house was enormous! There was a stage in the living room for heaven's sake! I'd love to search out the history of this home to see what purposes it played in the history of the town. Surely it had to have been a hotel or something at one time or another. It was one of the many grand homes that lined the streets of Warren and we could not believe that we were to be living there! We were within walking distance to everything - most notably the movie theater!

I have to tell you about the inside of this house. You walked into a vestibule which then opened into this grand room with the stage. Mind you, I was a little girl, so I'd give almost anything to go into this house today and see just how big this room actually is, but I remember we were all amazed, parents included. There WAS a stage so it had to be pretty big, right? The stage was set against the far wall and the stairs going up to it were on the right and left sides, if I remember right. There were swinging doors on each side of the stage on the floor level which led back to the kitchen and dining areas. So, as you walked in from the vestibule, you'd walk across the great expanse of the living room, or floor area, to the stage area and, if you wanted to go into the kitchen you'd walk either right or left of the stage and through the swinging doors to do so. There were back staircases from this service area up to the upstairs but I preferred to use the grand staircase back out off of the main living room. This stair case was out of the movies! This is my little girl mind telling this story so temper it as you wish, but, off of the main room you'd walk through this double wide doorway into the large cavity that held the stairway which was open to the top of the second floor. The staircase had to be ten feet wide, at least. To start up the stairs you'd go to the right and go up about five steps and you came to a landing. In front of you were double doors which opened into a sort of den with a large fireplace and bookshelves. Picture Mr. Rochester in here, if it helps. To continue up the stairs you turn left and go up another ten steps or so and you arrive at the middle grand landing. There are a bank of windows against the wall with a window seat running the whole course. This landing is probably around twenty feet wide as it leads you across to the left to continue up the last flight of about twelve stairs to the upstairs parlor area. This is it's own room as it is very large and all upstairs bedrooms, family rooms, and hallways come off of it. We had a little TV room up here and this was where we hung out, for the most part. I had a room to myself most of the time except when Cheryl would come back now and then to stay with us - then she'd take the top bunk in my room. (She used to have her boyfriend shimmy up the drainpipe outside of the house and into our room.)

I remember it being winter while we were at this house. Lots of fires rolling in all the fireplaces. We also had a huge St. Bernard while we lived here and he was a great old dog. Didn't slobber much and was very docile. Brenda used to take her naps using his belly as her pillow. It was very cute. She also used to ride him around, much like a pony! I was afraid of him at first - I had been mauled by our neighbor's dog in Clarendon a few years before and developed a great fear of dogs. When I realized he wasn't going to try to eat me I think I enjoyed him quite well.

Like I said, new house meant new school. I finished third grade at Market Street Elementary. I can't remember my teacher's name but I remember the first day of class. It was not good. The walk was definitely further than across the street but not too far. I got to walk past our stately court house every day as I walked over 4th Street to Market Street, took a right and headed down to the school which, I believe, was on the corner of 2nd Avenue. I felt so alone and didn't know a soul. Aunt Gwen wasn't a teacher here so I didn't even have her! I was this little pipsqueak of a kid. Some kids said hello but there seemed to be the class "leaders", the cool kids, whom everyone looked to to see if I was going to be accepted or not. One of these was a girl named Shannon. She had a kind face and I thought we'd be good friends but not so! She made it clear that I was not going to be accepted into this class easily. I went home very forlorn. My parents encouraged me but it continued in this manner until one auspicious evening. . . .

Every winter they hosed down the tennis courts at Beatty Jr. High School and turned it into an ice skating rink complete with a fire to warm yourself by and a hot chocolate shack. I didn't skate, but we'd found some double runner type of skates which you tie on to the bottom of your boots and I thought I could maybe use those. So my brothers agreed to drag their little sister along as we walked over to the skating rink one brisk winter night. They literally dragged me - on our sled!! Cute, huh? Anyway, we got to the rink and I made several attempts around the ice on my double runners but they kept coming off. I knew my brothers were not going to want to leave just yet so I pulled the sled over to the side, just outside the rink and sat on it and waited for them and watched people go around and around. Well, who should show up but this Shannon girl! I was embarrassed as she was obviously a good skater and had real skates - not little kiddy double runners! We made eye contact but then did our best to avoid each other. I tried not to look at her when she'd come around but you know I was watching her as she skated away from me! She came around this one time and the tip of her skate must have caught on a rut in the ice because she fell and went splaying right out on to the ice - hands and feet spread out - right in front of me. Then everything went in to a sort of slow motion. I saw the next skater coming up behind her and they weren't watching what was happening in front of them and they didn't see Shannon until it was too late. They attempted to make a jump over her hand but fell short and came down right on her finger. Yes - skate blade on tiny finger - it got bloody. But it was as if nobody else had seen what happened except me. I jumped up from my sled and tried to alert someone but there was too much noise. Shannon is crying and holding her bloody finger and the next thing I know I'm running around to the opening in the fence with my sled and out onto the ice where she is. I help her onto my sled and pull her over to the side and to where the adults are to get her some help. She definitely needs to go to the hospital. She is whisked off and, by this time, people are noticing that something happened - it must have been all the blood out on the rink! My brothers find me and I'm upset and I guess we decide to call it a night.

The next day Shannon wasn't in class but the kids are talking about what had happened. I notice furtive glances over in my direction and head jerks telling people that it was I, the new dorky kid, who had helped her out. I still don't think they were going to let me "in" but when Shannon came back to school she walked straight to me and started talking to me, thanking me, and her and I began a friendship that would last straight on through high school. I still like to keep tabs on her and saw her last at my 20th reunion. We still talk about the night at the ice rink. Her and I would have lots of fun times ahead.

The move to Fourth and Liberty sparks off a series of moves. I'm not exactly sure what was going on at this time that caused all of these moves. But I would have some unbelievably memorable moments along the way. I still, though, to this day, long to go back inside of the house on Fourth and Liberty - and I do, mentally, every time I hear Judy Collins sing "Both Sides Now."

P.S.

As I pulled the photo of the house out of my scrapbook to scan, I noticed there was writing on the back. My mother had taken the time, for which I am most grateful, to make some notes about the specs of the home. She wrote:

6 bedrooms (very large)

2 kitchens - 1 up, 1 down

2 baths

coat room

library

family room with fireplace

dining room

living room (very large)

full basement with rumper room

6 room attic or 4th floor

8 ft. wide staircase (she was equally impressed as I as she underlined this remark!!) so I wasn't too far off in my estimation!