Now if you’re thinking that Lorain was like the other Hop Scotch, Rope Jumping little girls, think again, she held the record for racking more recess time in detention then all us boys combined.
I can still picture her and her snarly red hair, as she ran about whacking kids in the head with those little brown rubber balls that were kept in the coat closet, and handed out first come first serve for recess time.
Now the way I had it figured folks, it was much better to be smacked upside the head by those little rubber balls, then with clumps of dirt, which Loraine had no problem finding and using when she was stopped by the teacher for pushing and shoving her way to the ball supply.
By the middle of grade one Lorain had rightfully earned the title of Ace because she was so frequently seen earning her stripes flying behind a playground monitor as they headed for the detention bench that sat in back of the teachers break room.
Now folks, if there was one thing that was really cool about school back in1957 and 1958 is that we were allowed to bring cowboy and soldier stuff in for play at recess. You know like Six-shooters, plastic swords, rubber knifes, Tommy guns, oh yea, we had a real kick ass playground, a playground custom made for Lorain the Ace, who always dared to push the edge of the envelope.
Lorain’s big moment came when she brought her brothers Daisy Air Rifle to school for some bang bang shoot um up fun at recess. (Hmm, an air rifle, like who would have guessed that with Loraine) Well folks, she must have pumped that damn thing up to it maximum PSI and then some, because with a barrel full of dirt she left an award winning mark on little Jimmy Bishop’s forehead just below his hairline.
And collateral damage, well it was no mercy for mighty Lorain the Ace, and to this vary day I have a little hematoma in my right earlobe from some unpacked dirt that flew off her shot to grade school fame and glory.
Lorain and my group had many a great times together, sadly she moved away during the summer after the second grade and I never saw her again, Dave my best friend moved away in the middle of the fifth grade, and when Skippy, Chipper and I entered Junior High we each went our separate ways to have new ventures with new found friends.
Every so often I stop near the old brick school house, now an apartment building.
It is a place where I can still hear the sounds of childhood innocence; it is a place where I can be both happy and sad at the same time.
Oh those wonderful memories,
By Mike Farr