Can memory really build a lane way?
 I think that's something that we all can explore, and I found a new meme by one of my favourite Coffee Chatters to help me start the journey.

Judy over at Retired not Tired has started Memory Monday, where each week she will provide us with a prompt to help assist and encourage us towards writing and/or sharing our memoirs.

 I think this is such a great idea!    We all need to look to the past, to determine our future direction every now and then.   And what are memories, if not to be preserved?

This weeks' prompt is First School.

The very first school I attended, as a Kindergarten child age 5, was Prince of Wales Public School in Brockville, Ontario.    I have discovered that they even now have a Facebook page!

Look at the big old building!
I suppose I would not have appreciated the architecture back then.    I no doubt was more concerned with what kinds of playground structures, swings and sport equipment were available in the yard at recess.

I don't remember much else about the school; I only attended to Grade 4, at which point we moved away.   I do remember recesses; and a particular young man who shall remain nameless that used to beat me up every day.
I mean literally, beat me up.   I recall very clearly the day I was hanging from the top of the climbing structure, and .... oh, let's call him Robbie Rotten... came over and punched me in the stomach.  HARD.

I didn't cry.  I immediately pinned him to the ground and punched him in the nose.

Those days, we had a local police office who walked this beat, as the school was located to a downtown area, and he happened along just in time to pull me off that rotten boy.
I hope you thanked  Officer "Uncle" Andy a LOT you silly boy!

I only remember one teacher from my young days at POW.     A male teacher, and I am pretty sure I loved him.   He seemed very nice and was very smart.     And he also gave a very stern lecture to one Robbie Rotten that day.    He was my first hero.

I remember wondering what it would be like if he was my dad -- because my dad was gone at that point.   And not worth remembering quite frankly.    He knew my personal situation and I think was always extra nice to me.    He even stopped my dad from entering the school one day to take me out.
I am quite sure dad was quite drunk at the time.

I guess Mr "C" set the standard for my future fangirl love of super heroes.

I suppose these don't sound like very nice memories.    Overall I remember my time here as very nice and very fun with my circle of friends.    I would walk to the school with the older kids who also attended the day care just up the street.  We were a very tight unit.   If you messed with one of us: you messed with all of us!

I remember the dares to cross the railway tracks that ran along side the school property.  There was a small bridge over water at one point - not very long of course -- and we all took the dare to run that bridge when the whistle sounded.   Not very smart; but a rite of passage where I grew up. 

I am sure the tracks look like this by now:

 photo AbandonnedTracks.jpg

I suppose that is the way of it.  I remember not so much the place, but the people.   The relationships I formed back then were the earliest ones of my young life, and I am so lucky and blessed that they were all positive.   Even Rotten Robbie eventually became a friend once he was taught proper manners!

I was crushed when we moved.  I missed them all dearly.
But I remember one day, sitting in my dorm room at Western University in London, doing homework having drinks with other residents -- people coming and going through out the night.   And I heard someone call my name.

I knew her in an instant.
Even though I had not seen her in about 12 years: her smiling face was still the freckle nosed one I remember from countless sleepovers.   Her laugh the same girlish giggle.

In no time at all we were reminiscing about school days, figure skating, tap dance lessons, and summer pool parties.

And just like that, years and many miles later, a lane way was built.

Do you remember your first school?

About The Author
Leslie Botchar, aka "RoryBore", is a SAHM enjoying life one day - and one cup of coffee - at at time.
She has had several articles published in The Huffington Post, and hopes to one day marry her skills as Word Wrangler and Photo Ninja. Leslie spills it all on her blog Time Out For Mom, and invites you to join her for some Mom "Me" Time.
Connect with her: Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram.