Summer is winding down...

This summer has been beautiful if you like the hot weather, I do. But now we are entering one of my favorite time of the year, fall. Ever since I was a kid I enjoyed fall the most. I remember that back then I could see a little better when it was cloudy out, and it seemed there were more of those days in fall. I enjoy fall for other reasons also. I love the way everything changes color in preparation for winter. I like the sound of the crackling leaves under my shoes as I walk. I like the way the breeze moves through the house leaving a nice fresh scent. I recall when I was a kid we would burn the leaves and I enjoyed that smell. Some folks still burn the leaves, we don't since it can hurt certain people with upper respitory problems. Ever since I started paying the utility bills back in the '70's, I also like the fact that the electric bill is lower during September and October. I guess that is due to not haveing to run the air, or fans since the weather is so nice.

School starts next week and when I lived in my old neighborhood on Grenshaw, when I was in 6th. and 7th. grade I would go and either buy one of the best hot dogs with fries in Chicago on the corner of Polk and Western, or I would buy my favorite potato sandwich at Willlys on Polk and Leavitt. After a while Willy's closed and then Lulu's started selling the potato sandwich. I still go there to eat them. When I was in 7th. grade I would pay .30 cents for each sandwich. It was poor people food like gravy bread, just add french fries and sometimes pieces of Italian beef come along for the ride. Man oh man I could still eat those everyday if I lived near there. You noticed I stopped at 7th. grade, that is because I skipped 8th. grade as most kids would go to 8th. grade. My friend, whose name I cannot remember, I think it was Pete, and I were selected to complete 8th. grade in summer school. So what normally took a whole school year, we did in 8 weeks. It was a pilot program. We were sent to Crane H.S. with a group of students who had failed 8th. grade. So, there we were the only two latinos with a class of black kids who were not the cream of the crop, to say the least. I guess they intended for the study habits Pete and I had would somehow rub off on them. Well, I don't know if it did or didn't, all I know is that we all passed. The only regret I have is that somehow, someone forgot to inform our teacher that Pete and I were honor students. She thought we were bad kids who just like the rest had failed. She treated us like shit! I recall how she would hit the students with whatever she could. One day she wanted me to give my belt to her so she could hit this black kid who was my friend, so I refused and she made me go to the office where they called my parents and threatened to kick me out of the program. I remember how my father was upset I did not obey my teacher. I still cannot to this day understand how parents could allow teachers to get away with that. Not til I got mad one day and stood up for myself did that teacher ever acknowledge that Pete and I were not there for the same reason as the others. I remember I told her how I was going to prove it to her by getting the highest grade on the Constitution test, which I did, I got a 97 1/2, the highest score in the class. Don't ask me how they came up with that score all I know is that I got it! I did help my fellow students prepare for the test also. You see, as we spent those weeks in the summer together, we all became friends. They were a tuff bunch but they wanted to pass also. I actually enjoyed that summer even with that crazy little black woman teacher. Pete and I would walk to Crane everyday for school. It was quite a walk since it was by jackson and Oakley. I would pick him up since he lived on Ogden Ave. and then we would walk together the rest of the way. On the last day Pete met me by my house. I remember having a blue cap and gown. At that time my mom would have our milk, orange juice and eggs delivered by the Bowan milk company. Well, Pete and I were walking out the door of my house when the milk man drove up. He wanted to know where we were going oll dressed up in our best suits. We told him we were graduating the 8th. grade, and he asked from what school, we told him Crane, and he told us to hop into the milk truch and he gave us a ride to the school. I wonder if anyone else can claim that they were driven to their 8th. grade graduation on a milk truck....