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Because we lived on Lumpkin Road while I was in kindergarten and half of first grade, I have a limited set of memories. Staccato little moments in time.
I gathered acorns and lined them on the sidewalk; patiently I watched from the living room window to see if the squirrels would retrieve them later.
A Sears truck ran over my first bicycle. They replaced it.
I was in a neighborhood play of Cinderella .. I was a wicked stepsister. Somewhere I have a picture of us "at the ball". All wicked stepsisters should look so sweet. Our ball dresses were nightgowns.
My first "boy friend" was Frankie Santangelo. I am pretty sure I remember him more for his name than anything else.
While playing on the back steps, Gaye put her head through the metal railing. This is easily accomplished as the head goes through, but the ears do not cooperate to back out. The fire department had to bend the rail to get her out.
My parents bought our first television while we lived here. The first program I remember is the Republican convention nominating General Eisenhower to run for President. I remember watching Howdy Doody later.
Gaye liked to ride her tricycle as close to the edge of porch as she could get. When she got too close, over she went.
Sitting on the back steps and telling some older children my mom was going to have a baby. A baby boy. I really wanted a big brother. Barbara was not big and not a brother, but I loved her anyway.
I started kindergarten at four and first grade at five. The cut off date was December 30th. Because of that I was always the youngest student in my classes. From time to time I have wondered if that was a good decision. Academically I could do the work, but with all the change that followed starting later might have been better. Life has no do overs; so who knows.
Each home has a series of stories. The people, the schools, the experiences all change while you live there. Ft Benning was our home twice. My kindergarten / first grade and middle school years were spent there. Separated by years when my Dad was deployed to Korea and four years as an advisor to the National Guard in South Carolina.
Barbara was born at Benning, but lived there for a few days or weeks. Gaye was a toddler and elementary student. Mother and Daddy were here just before my Dad was deployed to Korea and as he wrapped up his military career and prepared to retire.
It is fascinating to consider how the same span of time provides a different experience for the people sharing the events.
When President Eisenhower was a major when he was stationed at Benning and lived at 206 Austin Loop. The picture above is of his residence. Our home was just a few houses away from his. His son also lived on Austin Loop and moved away just before we arrived or I might have known David, his grandson. All the houses on the street were identical duplexes.
I found this info on a historical website about Fort Benning.
Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower lived at 206 Austin Loop from 1926 to 1927 when he was a major. As an additional duty, Eisenhower coached the Doughboy football team. Note the historical marker on Vibbert Avenue.
The Dutch Colonial style quarters on Austin Loop and Eames Avenue were built in 1923-24. Legend has it that the building plans were intended for a military installation in the North, and the roofs were steeply pitched to prevent snow from piling up. A mix-up resulted in the installations receiving blueprints intended for the other. A 1933 edition of the post newspaper referred to Austin Loop as the neighborhood where "they built the made-to-shed-snow houses."
There was one day when school was let out early. All the people on post lined the streets. President Eisenhower drove through the base and we stood and waved at him. It was the 50's and he was a hero!
The Commanding Generals home was just down the street at the end of the Loop. Gaye and I passed it when we walked or biked by on our way to school or to the movies. We often stopped to play on the Little Train near the base entrance.
The Commanding Generals home was just down the street at the end of the Loop. Gaye and I passed it when we walked or biked by on our way to school or to the movies. We often stopped to play on the Little Train near the base entrance.
Occasionally mother played the bells at the base chapel. My father's retirement ceremony took place on the grounds in front of the chapel. I should post a picture of us dressed in our Sunday best looking rather dorky. We were impressed with all the military review at the ceremony.
Fort Benning was a wonderful time of discovery. All the kids my age had travelled. It seemed everyone I knew had lived in Germany or Italy or places I had never visited ... like Ohio. The family in the other duplex had two standard Poodles named Zampa and Leo. They got their dogs while living in Italy. Their son was Steve. We got a good laugh at Gaye when on our first day on base Gaye went in their back door rather than ours.
This was also the first time we had friends, who were not Protestants. Maureen and Darlene were Catholic. I went to Mass with them a few times. Presbyterian ministers wore suits and ties; priests had a very different wardrobe. I never knew when to stand or kneel.
Benning was integrated. I had loved my "No No" before we moved on base. I just assumed that was the way life should be. I unaware we lived in a very white southern world. Little children just accept the world as it comes to them.
I should mention that "No NO" was Nora. She was our black maid who kissed my hurt spots, cooked the world's best blackberry pie, and ironed my dresses. She helped care for my Grandmother who was ill for many years. She acquired her name because that must have been what she said to me or my cousins as I/we explored the house. Wanting to touch and climb and do all the little things that curiosity beckons little ones to experience. If you saw the movie, "The Help", you might have seen my No NO. I loved her the way little girls love the people who care for them.
Anyway Ft Benning was integrated. It was integrated when I was in kindergarten and grade school. When school started in seventh grade, I joined Girl Scouts. A girl at school was in my troop lived nearby. I invited her to ride with me to scouts. We could stop for a treat at my house on the way. After I came home from scouts my mother told me she could not come back. She was black and that was not acceptable. I hadn't noticed; she was just a nice girl from my class. My mother and her generation lived in a different world and unfortunately so did most of America. This was before Martin Luther King and the civil rights fight began. Many of the best and brightest in my school were minorities. I didn't understand why my parents did not know.
As a child it all seemed simple. Each Sunday I sang the song "Jesus loves the children. All the children of the world. Red and Yellow, Black and White. They are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world." It was confusing to hear adult conversation so different. I was waiting for them to learn what I already knew.
I was not a bold child - nope not even a little. I did not want to knock on doors selling Girl Scout cookies. I thought I knew the perfect place to sell cookies and I guess I did. The base movie theater! Hungry GI's were glad to spend a little to buy that familiar taste from home. We stood outside with our boxes and sold all that we had.
Seventh grade was a struggle. The kids there were so far ahead in their studies. It took all year to catch up. I had never seen a sentence diagrammed. Argh! Eighth grade was much better. My homeroom teacher was Mrs Springer. I loved her. She had not been my homeroom teacher from the start. One day at the beginning of the year she asked me to stay after school. She told me I was moving from my other class to her home room. Her class was the second hardest class (out of nine homerooms) and she told me I could do the work. It was exciting.
We read aloud "Evangeline: A Tale of Acadia" by Longfellow. The story of a young woman who on her wedding day was separated from the world she knew and spent a lifetime to find her true love as he died in her arms. We learned algebra and it was exciting. The next year in Manchester - everything was a repeat of what I had learned at Benning. Which is interesting because my college freshman English and math was a repeat of what I learned from Ms Pinkston in Manchester. But that is another story.
I entered a school contest writing about American History and won! The only person more excited was mother.
Mother took me the base dental office for an exam. My dentist in Greenwood had my confidence. However, this new office did not win me over. I had a cavity and would need a filling and Novocaine. I insisted my dad come and hold my hand before this incompetent man could give me a shot. How did I know he was incompetent? He did not know what "monkey grease" was. My dentist in Greenwood always put "monkey grease" on my gums before a shot of Novocaine. This so-called dentist did not even know what it was. My dad came and explained everything to the dentist and all was well. (PS.... I was eleven.)
There was a block of time when the Bennett girls went through every communicable disease possible - one at a time. Red measles - first Jan, then Gaye, then Barb. Mumps - first Jan, then Gaye, then Barb. Then German measles all of us one at a time. I don't think mother was able to leave to do anything. Mother had her personal challenges also. She had to have a tumor removed... this required a full hysterectomy. She shared a room with a lady who had cancer and was dying. She was touched that this lady was going home to teach her girls all she could before she became too weak. It weighed on her mind and she felt vunerable and grateful to recover.
Middle school/ Junior High kids think they are nearly grown. They or at least I liked to explore. Holly Lamb and I went exploring one day. There was an undeveloped lot a few blocks away. Undeveloped is an under statement. It was overgrown with thick weeds and thorny bushes. Who knows what kind of snakes and small animals called it home. Having totally lost track of time, we made it well into the back of the lot. We didn't even notice we had missed lunch. When I heard my dad calling my name. When I responded and he saw I was OK, he was mad as .... well, he was mad!
He told me to get home now. I had escaped scratches from the brambles before I saw him, but making it out I was not so lucky. Later would not be better. By the time I walked home I deeply regretted my lack of caution. The only thing that saved me from a real spanking was mother seeing my bleeding legs.
On another trip to the wild side, a group of us went to Rush Pool. This was a large pool set up for enlisted men and families. At this time the pool was empty. We climbed to the top of the spillway and slid down on the soles of our tennis shoes. However, I tipped back and came down on my bum. The cement was like sandpaper. When I got to the bottom, I was down to MY bottom. The fabric on my shorts had rubbed off and I looked like a cowboy wearing chaps. I had to walk across a four way highway leading into the base and then through neighborhoods trying to face away from traffic and people. 