Life got better for us all when Berean decided it needed a special ed teacher and hired Sandi, a dynamo. Sandi was divorced, but she and her young son came to Florida to live with her ex-husband’s cousin, Lou, who worked for the phone company. Lou, in our world of paycheck to paycheck, was rich. She owned a camper; one day Sandi invited Alicia and me to go to the beach with her, in the camper. We packed necessities—food and books. It was raining when we got to Jonathan Dickinson State Park, and Sandi parked under some pine trees. We heard the rain and the waves crashing on the nearby shore. We each found a spot to claim in the trailer and opened our books and were silent. Later, Sandi cooked hot dogs for us, but not ordinary dogs. No, these were split, stuffed with sauerkraut, and wrapped in bacon before being grilled. Sandi also did upscale. She still had connections in Maine, and one year for Christmas Preacher sprang for lobsters for all of us at the staff party. Live lobsters, being boiled to death in the kitchen, trying to escape the large pots, was amusing. We ate them fresh, the butter sliding down our chins, without a qualm over the pain we inflicted on another creature. We were so happy. We were usually broke, Alicia and I, and Sandi claimed to be as well. But then she’d root around in her purse and come up with a twenty-dollar bill, and it was hard in that moment to like her. When we said we had no money, we meant we had no money. This did not seem to be a concept Sandi grasped. She was wonderful with the special needs kids, as I was not. The school at some point decided to mainstream the kids into a couple of classes. I’d had zero training, and I handled things poorly in my ignorance. One of the boys, a lanky, brown-haired teen, rocked in his desk. I'd take him by the shoulders and hold him still. He’d giggle, and I’d let go, and he’d soon begin rocking again. I only hope I did no lasting damage to those students.
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Baptist GirlI was a conservative Baptist girl who grew up to become a career Christian, working first in a Baptist school and then in a Baptist college. For about three decades, it was very good until it wasn’t, and I had to leave. But the Baptists formed me. This is my homage to the good times and good people of the world I left, finally, at forty-three, when I became an Episcopalian. These are my memories; others might disagree with my recollections. So be it. Archives
January 2024
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