Gary Ike was my boyfriend in the first grade at Miller Street School. He was very cute, with blond hair that curled over his forehead, big blue eyes and rosy, tanned skin. One day he arranged with a high school girl who was a family friend to take us to Waller Park after school. An ardent and gallant lover, he tried to catch a big goldfish for me in the duck pond. Stretching out on his stomach, he slid into the water up to his waist. The fish got away, for which I was secretly grateful, but I was awed by his effort.
Today we would probably say that Gary had attention deficit syndrome, or maybe he was dyslexic. Then, he was just inexplicably always getting into trouble. His classroom problems increased as the years passed. He left Miller Street, and later, in the fifth grade, so did I. My first scary day walking into the Main Street School classroom, I was greeted by a cheery, "Hi, Mary!" It was Gary, happy as a puppy to see me.
He was still having problems with classroom work, but in spite of it, he remained good-natured. Once Mrs. Eimon asked him to tell us the answer to an arithmetic problem she had written on the board. He studied it, leaned back folding his arms and said, "Well, approximately....." She said she wanted an exact answer, not an approximate one, and the class laughed.
Those are my strongest memories of Gary. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for that irrepressible boy.
Mary Johnson (Forth)
Gary Ike was my boyfriend in the first grade at Miller Street School. He was very cute, with blond hair that curled over his forehead, big blue eyes and rosy, tanned skin. One day he arranged with a high school girl who was a family friend to take us to Waller Park after school. An ardent and gallant lover, he tried to catch a big goldfish for me in the duck pond. Stretching out on his stomach, he slid into the water up to his waist. The fish got away, for which I was secretly grateful, but I was awed by his effort.
Today we would probably say that Gary had attention deficit syndrome, or maybe he was dyslexic. Then, he was just inexplicably always getting into trouble. His classroom problems increased as the years passed. He left Miller Street, and later, in the fifth grade, so did I. My first scary day walking into the Main Street School classroom, I was greeted by a cheery, "Hi, Mary!" It was Gary, happy as a puppy to see me.
He was still having problems with classroom work, but in spite of it, he remained good-natured. Once Mrs. Eimon asked him to tell us the answer to an arithmetic problem she had written on the board. He studied it, leaned back folding his arms and said, "Well, approximately....." She said she wanted an exact answer, not an approximate one, and the class laughed.
Those are my strongest memories of Gary. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for that irrepressible boy.