Growing up in the South in a family of five back in the 1960s, I was the last girl born into the family, with the only boy being my younger brother, Frank. As we each reached school age, we were sent to the St. Francis Catholic school for our education, and a continuation of our parental teachings.
The school was an old building, built back at the turn of the century and showing its age. The wooden framing around the windows was weathered, and there were cracks where the brick and mortar had separated. Inside, the wooden desks were polished smooth with many years of use. Students had come and gone for generations. Parents, their children and now their grandchildren were learning the scholarly arts at these same desks.
While some things didn't seem to change over the years, others did. With the influx of rock and roll, flower children, hippies, drugs and the love movement, the children were subject to all manner of new evils. The Mother Superior at St. Francis was also the principal. It was her job to rule the children with a firm hand, and ensure they were able to take their proper place in society.
Being the youngest, it seemed Frank and I were always getting into trouble. I could hear Sister Maria yelling across the school yard, "Jean, come here this instant young lady." Frank was usually nearby, egging me on to even greater mischief. The fact that I was such a tomboy was a continuing source of consternation for Sister Maria. One day as Frank and I were playing catch, he threw the ball too high for me to catch it, and I cringed as it crashed through the library window. It just so happened that the principal was in the library at the time, reading. As soon as the glass shattered, we turned and ran behind some trees. The Mother Superior heard the crash, saw the ball on the floor, and immediately called for Sister Maria. She came on the run, yelling at the top of her voice, "Jean, Frank, come here right NOW". I swear to this day that even with her back to the window, that woman knew everything that happened and who was to blame.
