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Saturday, December 21, 2019
The other day I made a comment on Facebook to Charley, a longtime friend from high school. One of his Facebook friends responded to me.
Brenda Olson: Joe Hagy “Your name is familiar; do I know you from Civics class at Edison?”
Now, Edison was my Junior High school. I attended in ninth grade. I must say I was a bit miffed that this person would only remember me from Civics class in ninth grade. I mean I was not your big man on campus, but in high school I got around a little bit. I was even co-captain of the football team; why would this person remember me from civics class in ninth grade?
Of course, I checked her out on Facebook and dang she is still pretty cute. Why didn’t I remember her from high school?
So I responded perhaps a bit snarky,
“I was class of ’64 at Westfield High and did go to Edison so we may have been in the same class.”
I was still a bit miffed to be remembered for attending civics class in ninth grade and nothing else. I was about to search her out in the yearbook to see what kind of a big shot she was, when she responded to me;
“Well it must be, I taught Civics at Edison from ’59 to ’62. I was about ten year older than most of my students.”
Holy crap, Brenda Olson was a teacher! Now I was feeling pretty proud that a teacher would remember my name from 58 years ago. I must have made quite an impression on her.
Thinking further on this, I wondered why was this teacher a Facebook friend with my old longtime friend.
Hmmm…wait a minute, Charley lived in a garden apartment and I remember his next-door neighbor was one of our teachers; I think it was Civics. They were Facebook friends as old neighbors. She would remember me because I was at Charley’s several times a week all through High School and summers during college. She would have seen me a lot. If not for that connection I doubt she would have recognized my name from Adam.
In about ten minutes, I went from being miffed at only being recognized from an obscure time in ninth grade, to thinking I must have been a special student to be remembered by a teacher, to realizing it was not my prowess as a student that she remembered, just that she saw me a lot at Charley’s.
Oh well, emotions are a funny thing.
I kind of remember that in ninth grade my civics teacher was an older lady; 58 years later I checked her on Facebook, and she looks pretty cute!