The Best Memories

I don't know when schools changed their practice of computerized report cards but they decimated a long time tradition. In the days of the 1950's report card day was one of anticipation, fear and great anxiety.

I attended Sacred Heart grade school in Boone, Iowa from 1952 through 1960. We had nuns. They were the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The bad kids called them Black Veiled Monsters.  They wore black cassocks all the way to the floor. On their heads were big and square black boxes. We always wondered if they were bald. Around their waists they had rosary beads than went to the floor. The beads themselves were the size of walnuts. Mt first grade teacher was Sister Mary Calasanctus. She was short in stature. I'd heard that before she became a nun she got a job in Hollywood------as an actress---In The Wizard of Oz---as an Oompaloompa. But she was nice and good and I have not one bad memory from her teaching.

The nuns had great power over us. When we went to our homes and told our parents a story and they laughed at us all we had to do was say, "Sister said" and it was gospel.

A day of fear, for me, was the one where report cards were given out. It was always on a Friday in the late afternoon, the same time people get fired from their jobs. Yeah, I was a nervous jittery kid and never knew what to expect when the cards were handed out. The nuns didn't do this, though. The pastor of our church, Fr. JJ. Ryan did the deed. He came around to each class to give them their cards and he always made comments as he passed them out. Comments like, 'Good job' or in my case, 'You'd better pick up the pace' or words to that effect.

It was a given that Rita Healy or Tim Mahoney would return with a big smile on their faces after snagging their card. For me, depending on if a nun hated or liked me it was like a jeep trip through Montana. I didn't know if there was a boulder in the road or not.

And then there was the thought of having to take the card home and show it to my parents. My dad didn't much care because he made it through high school because of his basketball talents; D's and F's were the norm for him so his comments were meaningless. I remember one time I was playing in a baseball game and he tried to tell me how to hit. I said, "Dad, you've never picked up bat." That ended his expertise which was zero, zip, nada.

My mom was one of those pain in the butt people who when she saw my report card never said congratulations or chewed me out. She always said, "but what did Tim Mahoney's card look like." She was a pip and not in a good way. Heck, once in 1958 when I was 12 and playing Little League she made me walk home from a game because I'd made two errors. She said I embarrassed her in front of her friends. Oh, I went 3 for four at the plate with a home run but this is another story. Mom was the subject matter for the phrase, 'in one ear and out the other' when she spoke but that's a story that needs an explanation---about the lenght of the longest book ever written,

So, I looked at this card in the picture. It must have taken quite awhile for the nuns to fill out each one. For some of the kids it had to be embarrassing unless your favorite letter is F.

There's one thing missing in this report card though and it was a big deal. Mike Culver and I always had a competition of who had better penmanship. I noticed there was nothing on this card denoting the Palmer Method of writing. Obviously, it didn't come from a Catholic school because penmanship in those places held as high a place as knowing the Bible front to end. 

I always have had excellent penmanship. A wife of one of my friends in Minnesota always compliments me on my writing. Her problem is she compares it to the chicken scratches her husband writes.

To this day, though, I'll never forgive Mike Culver. His penmanship is still like that of Michelangelo.