Yvonne or Sophia

I was still in Mrs. Bowers class. God she had hairy arms. The things we notice. I liked her. We figured out our weight and size on jupiter. Remember, Alan Shepherd had made his first flight, as well as John Glen. It was a memorable activity for me.

Somehow, I learned that Yvonne was my middle name despite the fact that was the name I was familiar with. In the Netherlands I was known as Vonnie and only knew that. For a strange reason, I found out that my first name was Sophia.

So I asked for an explanation from my parents. My parents said that the name Yvonne came from a cologne bottle that my father had given my mother for the birth of me. Sophia was my father's mother's name.

I toyed with that idea. Some of my papers had Yvonne on them, as I had always known it. Others had the name Sophia. Mrs. Bower said I had to make up my mind. It was one or the other. I was so fascinated with Sophia and a grandmother I never met. Sophia it was then and now

Mr. Morris' class

In S.F. we often switched teacher's every semester. To our unfortunate future, we had Mr. Morris. I could still see him; graying hair, glasses and a disciplinarian.

Mr. Morris told us that his own children were in bed by 7:30. We all gasped.

One of the members in class was Michael Perrini. I don't know how old he was, but he clearly had flunked a few grades. He was by far the tallest. Everyone was afraid of him. During the summer I had learned a few choice words. I did not know what they meant other than the fact I was not to use them.

Mr. Morris had given the task for us to collect dictionaries. Everything was fine until I got to Michael. He would not give his dictionary. I finally used the "F" word and he gave it to me. Mr. Morris heard the use of the "F" word. He dragged me down to the office. He left his class. I knew I was in trouble. The halls were louder than the ever were before. He dragged me by the arm to the office. He brought me to an old lady, who was the principal. He wrote down what I had said.

The punishment was that I was to take home a note to my parents and have it signed.

My mom did not know what it meant. I know my dad knew it was bad, I knew it was bad. Bottomline, nobody knew what it meant. My father signed it and I returned it. That was the punishment. It was memorable, though. I never would have remembered the teacher's name.

Soccer

Or is it football. I forgot that we were sponsored by the soccer team that played in San Francisco. Hakoah, it was. I, once again, has an open account at the snack bar. I got introduced to some American food like ham sandwich. It was quite different from what I was used to.

Why did I think about soccer. Well, I am watching the Finals of the women. My mother and I spend all day on the soccer field. Often, she would dress me up, as well as herself. So every Sunday we were out on the soccer field, as we knew it It didn't matter when the game was played, we spent all day.

I remember Max Boxer yelling "Taxi" when the ball was out for Hakoah. I remember the uniform with the star on it. I remember the goalie who had quite a foot. He was able to boot it from one end to the other. His name was George. Later on, Steve Negoeco would join the team, who would coach USF for a lifetime.

I did not know anything different. I liked the socializing. Remember, I was an only child.