Valentine Memories
My first memories about Valentine’s Day occurred in first grade at Ft. Loramie elementary school. In those days, there were no pre-school or kindergarten. So that meant 42 new first graders were in a single classroom taught by a wonderful teacher Miss Quinlin, whom I’ve written about in this previous blog.
About a week before Valentine’s Day, Miss Quinlin had each of us first-graders start work on a project to decorate a shoe box for the big day so everyone could exchange Valentine’s cards. The top of the shoe box included your name, plus a slot so the cards could be inserted, somewhat like the box displayed on the right.
The standard issue scissors for first-graders had rounded blades to prevent injury, but it sure made it cumbersome to cut the slot, especially since I was used to using my Mom’s conventional scissors at home.
While the box was being constructed during class, at home we had to address all the Valentine’s cards to our classmates. I recall going to Willman’s department store with Mom to buy an assortment of small cards. There were 27 girls in our class, plus I needed cards for Miss Quinlin, my three sisters, two grandmothers and Mom. So that meant a lot of card signing, envelope stuffing and addressing during the busy week before Valentine’s Day. Plus Mom suggested I insert a candy heart, each with a special message, with the cards. After 4 1/2 months of getting to know my classmates, the fun part was finding just the right card and inscribed candy heart for each of the girls in my class. The mushy ones went to those special girls like described in this previous blog about my first kiss. Imagine the germs that must have been all over those pieces of candy after fingering them prior to and during the envelop stuffing process!
Finally, the big day came and all of us first-graders excitedly inserted our Valentine’s cards in the decorated shoe boxes of our classmates. Miss Quinlin insisted we not open the cards in class, instead to take the box home and open the envelopes there. I recall my younger sisters helping me open the cards, sometimes eating the candy hearts before I had a chance to read them. It was fun to see if anyone sent me a mushy card! I do recall getting a card from a boy in my class who incidentally became my best man at our wedding some 20 years later - Hmmmm!
Speaking of our wedding, my wife-to-be and I decided after spending our first Christmas together in 1971 that we were meant for each other. So shortly after the New Year, we went to look for a diamond ring together as I didn’t trust myself to pick out the right ring on my own. We stopped at Mayor’s Jewelry in downtown Dayton at Third & Main under the old clock tower pictured below. After all, we were in the Gem City!
We found a custom ring design we liked, picked out the matching wedding bands and placed the order. One morning about a month later, I received a call at work that the rings (pictured below) were in. I excitedly called my fiancee-to-be with the news so we met during our lunch break to pick them up. The engagement ring fit, so she just kept it on, with no bended knee proposal or anything.
Prior to getting engaged, I also never asked my future in-laws, Doc & Hilda, permission to marry their daughter. Another bonehead move on my part! Had I done so, they no doubt would have shared a story about a Valentine’s Day a few years prior when the two of them got into a little spat and weren’t speaking to each other for a day or so before the big day. Doc did give Hilda a Valentine’s card, but it had the following note written inside:
Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I have my faults and so do you! Love, Doc!
My mother-in-law Hilda enjoys telling that story every Valentine’s Day, so no doubt she will be repeating it for all the doctors, nurses and other patients at Miami Valley hospital tomorrow where she is recuperating from successful hip replacement surgery.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Hilda and all you other Fish Report readers.
Love to hear about the old days in Fort Loramie. Willman's was a mecca of a variety of sundries back in the day. Buster Brown shoes, material, gifts, food, and that big beautiful staircase to the mysterious upstairs. And Miss Quinlan was my 1st grade teacher also. She taught us all about responsibility with every wrap of the knuckles with a ruler ;) Thanks for the memories!
ReplyDeleteMy knuckles were scar-free until getting to 2nd grade with Miss Fleckenstein and 3rd grade with Mrs. Dillehay. Thanks for the comments and for reading the blog.
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