First Grade

 

First grade is also a lot of fun. I remember asking my teacher Miss Patron if I could have a picture of her so I could think about how pretty she was when I wasn’t in class. She smiled, and maybe even blushed, and said, “Yes Jeffrey, you may have a picture of me, but only to scare away the roaches.” I actually still have Miss Patron’s picture to this day. First grade was also the first time I was in an all boys class, and I remember that we had four other boys name Jeff and five boys named Christopher. I remember not feeling so special about myself because there were so many of us.

I loved going to school at Holy Name. I met some of the greatest neighborhood buddies like Billy Cahill, John Farrell, Wally Rinker, Timmy Verlander and Billy Bryant, all who lived within walking distance from my house. I was also good friends with a boy name Wyatt Aiken, who lived two doors down. One day at dinner, Stephanie announced that Wyatt asked her if she would like to see his wee wee. Stephanie asked, “Wyatt, I have four brothers, so why would I want to see your wee wee?” Wyatt responded, “Because mine is German.”

As I quickly got a little braver, my geographical circle widened to include my good friends Twig Wegmann, Gordon Stewart, Paul Melancon, Bill Henican, Wynn Sewell, Bob Lacroix, Bubba Cobb, Tommy Beatrice, Chris Wynn, Stephen Simmons, Jeff Clements and Mark Forsythe, all who lived within a mile of my house, and of course Stephen Ehlinger and Stewart Douglas, who both lived just across Napoleon Avenue, on Milan Street. As a kid, I never had to worry about anything other than getting home by 6:00 PM for dinner. I still think of my buddies often, and enjoy running into them when I’m out and about around New Orleans.

One of my good friends in first grade was named Francis Wegmann, and we called him Twig. Twig’s family lived over on Octavia Street and we would always have after school and weekend play dates. It was Twig’s family that invited me to my first overnight sleepover at their family‘s camp. It was my first real adventure away from my own family and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The Wegmanns were a lovely family and no one ever argued, unlike mine. As we were driving home on Sunday, I remember leaving my brown Holy Name uniform sweater at the camp. I started to cry because I knew my father would be upset that I had lost my sweater, so Dr. Wegmann turned around and we drove all the way back to the camp just to pick it up. The Wegmanns were just those kind of people, and Twig always remained my friend, up until he passed in 1988, at the age of 28 years old. I sometimes visit his grave at Metairie Cemetery, where my grandparents and my youngest sister Madeleine are also buried.

I won a first place blue ribbon in chin ups at the school track meet that year. I was so proud of that ribbon and decided blue would be my favorite color forever. I still have my blue ribbon.

I remember one Saturday afternoon, Stephanie had Muffin and some of her other friends over for a swim, and I remember Pete and I were looking through the key hole of Stephanie’s bedroom to see if we could watch them changing out of their bathing suits. We were giggling and Stephanie started yelling at us to go away.

© 2022 Jeffrey Pipes Guice

My Wonder Years: A Book