First, let me set up the story.
The time: Fifth grade, the year President Kennedy was assassinated.
The scene: Outside on a school blacktop. Lunch time is over. We, fifth graders, are dragging and carrying the green wooden lunch benches back to their rest place, about 30 feet or so. The quicker we finish, the more time we have to play before the bell rang.
Said Charlie (I’m paraphrasing, of course):
Usually a friend and me take one end of a bench, but this day I thought I could carry it alone. I did! All the way. No dropping, no stopping. I was happy, so proud of myself. I turned around to get another bench. What did I see? You, heading over with one bench under each arm.
hahahahahah. Charlie first told me this story at our 10 year high school reunion. I love it! I have no memory of carrying two benches, moving benches, yes. I’ve no doubt that I could’ve carried one bench. I was strong for a girl, thanks to Daddy having no problem of me helping him in the backyard with the heavy stuff.
Thank you, Charlie. I miss you.
P.S. The Big Baby reference? An once-upon-a-time for another day, maybe sooner than I think.