I have been interested in dramatic reading, community theatre, and the like for many years. I played the stage manager in the classic Our Town, by Thornton Wilder. The role of the crusty gardener in The Secret Garden fit me a little too well, I am afraid. I even got be the villain in a melodrama put on for a dinner theatre one year. Kids at church camp used to beg me to share my Mitchell Bear stories. Those yarns were bedtime stories made up just for high school males. I have never shared the content of those now infamous narratives with Jan, which is probably best. I always thought my inclination toward the dramatic was a genetic thing. Now if you knew my parents, that conclusion would make you pause. I figured out this week that I was wrong. Genetics had little to do with my flair for the dramatic. It all started in the second grade.

Miss Erick was my teacher in the second grade at Wind Point Elementary School. She was young and pretty. And she was sweet and encouraging too. And…she always smelled good. When I entered the second grade, I had already concluded that I was not the brightest bulb on the light strand. That was made clear to me in the first grade. I was in the blue birds reading group in the first grade. The blue birds were the slow readers. Miss Erick obviously had little interest in birds, and less interest in grouping kids by their reading ability. She convinced me before Christmas break that I was a good reader! There was no mention of the blue birds the entire semester. My intellectual shortcomings in the first grade obviously did not deter my new educational hero.

Miss Erick knew how to motivate her students. If we finished our work in a timely way, she would read Uncle Remus stories to us. Wow! Miss Eric was the ultimate dramatic reader. She would assume her place on a stool at the center of the classroom and read to a group of mesmerized second graders. I can still hear her reading about the legendary Brer Rabbit. I found myself imitating Miss Erick after class. Now I don’t mean in a disrespectful manner. I adored that lady. I would go over the story in my mind and copy the inflection of her voice on my walk home after school.

Miss Erick is really the one to blame. She inspired me to be a good reader. I never regressed back to the blue birds again. She showed me that reading could be fun, dramatic, and really funny! It was the first step in cultivating an interest in the dramatic. Next time Jan inquires about the content of a Mitchell Bear story, I am going to blame my second grade teacher! Thank you, Miss Erick. Wherever you are, you were one of the best teachers I had! You instilled confidence, provided a secure place to learn, and made it all fun in the process. And to top it all off, you really smelled good….