LETTER TO MY FIRST-GRADE TEACHER

 Hi, Mrs. Nell (Mrs. Nell Thompson Adams Montgomery).

  I hope you are doing well. I thought I’d write a letter to you today. I suppose I type better than I write in longhand. The spellcheck on this computer helps correct my mistakes, and it’s easier to move fingers while typing than to move one hand consistently, I think. 

  

It’s cool outside this morning. Mr. Raymond Willbanks called last night and said he was coming by this morning. He carries his grandson to school on school mornings. Grandson Conner is in seventh grade and attends Blue Ridge Middle School, which is in the old Blue Ridge High School building. (I remember meeting there for church when Pastor Jimmy Thompson was organizing Faith Temple.)

  

I asked Raymond if he’d like to eat breakfast with us, and he said yes. Barbara organized the breakfast, going a little further than I had envisioned. We had scrambled eggs, sausage, gravy, and biscuits. She placed jelly on the table too: strawberry and grape. She had coffee ready for Raymond. I don’t drink coffee — never have care much for the taste, though I drank a few cups while in the Army. I guess I was a “social drinker.” Later, I gave up drinking any coffee. 

  

I remember Ma Crain telling me about Preacher Barton, a Pentecostal minister. He didn’t drink coffee nor eat ice cream, as I understand. He would ride in his car, which had scriptures painted on it, I guess, and announce that a meeting was going to start at church, so “Come on out to the meeting.” Do you remember such things?

  

Well, Raymond drove up in his truck this morning. He enjoyed the breakfast, and we talked. He brought me copies of inspirational writings he had used in teaching Sunday school over the years. He would distribute items he copied to augment his teaching. I can borrow from them when I write. 

  

Raymond and I were friends from early childhood. Don Hill was my first real friend. We were in diapers when we became friends. And our grandmothers lived within walking distance. Mrs. Few would walk across a footbridge down at the creek that separated their properties. That’s when Ma and Pa Crain lived down near the creek. Across another creed was Mr. Grady Atkins. Not far, across through a few peach trees, was the Mr. Troy Burrell place. Up on the hill above the Burrell place was a Mr. Hall. In his early days, Pa read Mr. Hall’s newspaper. Mr. Hall told Pa that he could read it, as long as he put it back in the box so Mr. Hall could get it when he was ready. Pa got up early and read the paper before Mr. Hall retrieved it, so things worked out pretty well. Pa could read the newspaper for free. 

  

Raymond and I used to play softball at school. We were big boys, so we often were asked by other boys to choose sides for softball. Sometimes we would head up teams and choose sides. The little fellows who couldn’t hit very well would usually be the last ones chosen. Sort of sad, but that was life on the old softball field. 

  

In 4th grade, in Miss Ruth Langford’s class, Raymond and I were classmates. Most other years he was not in my room. (There were two of each grade for my class during those years at Mt. View.) Miss Langford (or Lanford, not sure of spelling) gave us an arithmetic test that covered “carrying.” We had not studied that in class. I went down through the numbers, adding but not carrying any sums. When we got the tests back, Raymond made a good grade, and I made a horrible grade. “Why did you do so well?” I asked Raymond. He said, “I learned to ‘carry’ from my brothers.” He had to work in his mother’s store and had learned to carry as part of his job of making change. He’s a smart and very Christian man. I am proud he’s my friend. 

  

I just had a return call from Ms. Juanita Barnett. She is in the National Health Care on Pelham Road. She has cellulitis and is slated to be there for rehab until April 5. Her personal phone number is 864-517-4384. 

  

She previously had two varicose veins rupture and had to go quickly to have them sewn up. This bout with cellulitis is her first, as I understand. We’re praying for her and miss her at church.

  

Mr. Tim Burrows has been approved for liver transplant, as long as other tests prove he is healthy enough to have that done. He was in Charleston for that examination. On his own while driving, his ammonia level rose, and he had to be sent to the hospital and placed in ICU for a few days. I hear he is out now and probably headed home. An offering is to be taken at Faith Temple this weekend to help with expenses.

 

I hope your day goes well. I often think of you. Love.