In 1949 I started school. I had so looked forward it. On the first day I found that I had Sister Janice, and I cried. I'd so much wanted Sister Martha, who'd been Judy's teacher, and the crackers and naps which were part of her classroom's routine. Judy found out that she would have Sister Norbert, and she cried too. Nadine had had Sister Norbert the year before and said she was very mean. But before long we both adjusted to the situation and found we quite liked both our teachers.

The class I was in was a combined first and second grade, and because Judy had taught me to read I used to listen to and do the second grade work as well. It was a big class, 65 kids or so. Sister Janice was very short and quiet, soft spoken, and shy.

Both our classrooms were in the annex - an addition to the school which was heated by oil stoves. In winter we all huddled around the stoves, and a pan of water was put on it to add humidity to the air. It was very cold from October - April and we weren't allowed to wear slacks in the classroom. We wore long thick stockings held up by very complex garter belts which fitted over our shoulders and waists.

Shortly after I started in the first grade, we decided to move into a house closer to the middle of town. When Judy and I walked home from school together those first few weeks before we moved, we peeked at the new house which we very nearly passed. But we were scared of the next door lady, Mrs Boespflug, who we thought was a mean old lady, as she shouted at the children if they walked on her grass.

The Boespflugs kept their lawn very neat and spent hours on it. They were an elderly couple with German ancestry and still had very pronounced accents. Mrs. Boespflug was short and fat and walked with a bad limp, as if she had bad arthritis. Mr Boespflug was short too, and thin and very quiet. He was retired but had a part-time custodial job at an apartment house at the other end of town. Mrs Boespflug had jet black hair with only a very few silver threads in it and she wore it on top of her head in a bun. She was always shouting, and she shouted at her husband Matt as much as anybody, but it was all in fun and didn't worry him. One time when she really had a go at him she said to me giggling, "Isn't he cute?" Mrs Boespflug spent a lot of time baking and we often had cookies, bread or coffeecake from her house, and it was delicious. She soon became much more a grandmother than a witch. But when we first moved in, and didn't know her well yet, we were very careful not to let our ball go onto her grass.

This house was somewhat smaller than the last one in the size of rooms, but it had a full basement which although it was unfinished was ideal for storage and playing in. The front door opened directly into the living-room which was divided from the dining-room by a large archway. And the kitchen beyond the dining room was very tiny. The hall that led off the dining-room went to the two bedrooms and the bathroom. From the kitchen you went down three steps to the back door, and then down a full flight of steps to the basement. We never locked our back door at night, and the milkman would open it and put the milk bottles inside so they didn't freeze in the winter, or get too hot in the summer.

In the living-room, one wall was nearly taken up with the piano. It was a big upright one in mahogany wood and had come from the old farmhouse where Moma had been raised. Shortly after we moved we started piano lessons on Saturday afternoons from Patty Boespflug, the youngest daughter of our neighbours.


The basement was unfinished with grey concrete walls and a concrete floor. We always talked about finishing it, but never did, and because of this, it was always very cool in the summers which we appreciated as Bismarck. Just under the stairs we kept a washing machine, which was an old fashioned wringer - washer and we had two wash tubs for rinsing in. We hung clothes outside in good weather, but in the fumace room downstairs if it was too cold or wet.

The fumace room also had the hot water heater. The fumace bumed natural gas, and was very efficient, so we had a nice warm house in contrast to our previous one.

In the main section of the basement we kept our trunks and suitcases and in the corner was old wardrobe, left by the previous occupants.  In another comer was a bookcase which contained our family's entire supply of books - only a dozen or so. We had several Bobsey Twin books, and a copy of The Secret Garden, a book called Little Jeanie of France, The Yearling, and several others.

Next door on the other side was Martin Henlein. (I've written a short story about him so won't include any more here.)  Beyond his house was a white wooden one belonging to the Almendingers. They had a daughter called Mary Ann who was Judy's age and we played with her sometimes in the summer. But she didn't go to the Catholic School like we did, so didn't see much of her during the school year.
But we did have one sleep-over at her house. I remember how concerned she was that we hadn't brought a bible to read before we went to bed.

Our games were mostly bike riding, skiping rope, jacks, seven-up.  We played a group game called "Lemonade" quite a bit. It went like this. One side said,

"Here we come"
“Where from?"
"New Orleans"
"What's your trade?"
"Lemonade"
"Get to work and show us some,
if you're not afraid."

Then one team had to mime a sort of trade and the other team had to guess what it was. (sound familiar Mary?)