KeepsakesPosted: January 17, 2013 Filed under: Secret Garden 2 Comments
This is part of a series of sporadic blog posts about items I have in my keepsake box. If you think I’m not sentimental, this should prove otherwise.
In second grade, we kept daily journals. I was very much into drawing at the time (really until about fourth grade, I think), so my journals tended to be more art than text. This sample includes both.
I must have seen The Great Mouse Detective shortly before this, because it’s an attempt at drawing Fidget, the bat from the movie. I even drew the pocket inside his wing, along with the list he lost.
And the reverse:
October 28, 1991
Today our street was blocked off! It was because at the church on N. Texas was having a funerl. It was for a policeman who lived in Fairfield but worked for the Oakland Police Station. My mom said that he probably got killed in the fire.
When I grow up….
When I grow up, I want to be an artist, an auther, an illlustrater, and a teacher. When I grow up I want to get a cute little kitten. Maybe I will also buy a puppy.
My second-grade teacher was Mr. Handa. I think I had a few friends in middle school who had a crush on his son, Scott. In second grade I was still going to the elementary school near my house, and my best friend was named Keith or Roger or something. We held hands when we walked to lunch, because that’s what friends do, but other kids made fun of us. Also, I liked bologna, which is now one of the most disgusting things in the world. How can someone take a sandwich to school in the morning, carry it around at room temperature, and then eat it when it has both mayo and lunch meat on it? Sick. Sick and wrong.
Mr. Handa recommended that I be tested for GATE, but I don’t remember much about him beyond that. It wasn’t a very memorable year.
There were so many people at that funeral. They had buses parked in the median along N Texas Street and at least half the parking lot at the church was officers of one kind or another standing in formation during the entire funeral. Maybe he died ‘in the line of fire’?
I used to see Mr Handa from time to time at city meetings and stuff around town, although I could never remember which kid(s) he had taught.
“In the line of fire” does sound a little more plausible, since i don’t remember any big fires at the time – but, I don’t actually remember the funeral, so I guess my memory isn’t reliable.