Emmigration

I was the hero in school. I went to all the classes in my elementary school. I did get presents which I cherish to this day. The most memorable one was an etching in crayon. It was etched in black and then sharply drew a picture. Those items were so endeared that I wanted them all included in the wooden chest which would arrive 6 weeks later. I, as a child, had no idea of the magnitude of this sudden change. But there were many well-wishers and it made me feel like an hero. Probably the most difficult issue was to give up our loyal poodle, Mary, who was getting up in her years.
Although I though how immense our house was, it was rather small to what I would be accustomed to in the States. Not until my recent trip to the Netherlands, did I realize that my father had insisted on the best. But that didn't seem to matter because the new occupant would inherit all our belongings. Nor did I truly understand the magnitude of my mother's tears. I just followed my parents as the dandelions blew.

TB

My mother continued work to raise money to get to the U.S.A. I remember, and was told, it was the Pot of Gold. My mother always felt guilty. I knew that. She did the best she could under the  circumstances.
She would often buy me dinner before she went to work. But the most interesting was a savings bank on the mantel with money. I emptied it frequently to buy a small bottle of Coke. By the time the man came to collect the savings from the savings pot for the TB there would be very little there. I never did get punished for this. Never. I think my father had been caught. My mother thought it was funny.
I never stole from that pot again. Don't ask me how I got away with it. My father was quite the punisher.

TV in Holland

The blog has been good to me. It made me realize that I raised myself. I learned a lot about myself. I learned about why I am so independent. I remembered in Amsterdam my aunt had made curtains, and sheets that were Bambi. I looked at them all night before I went to sleep. My mother went to work in the movie theater as an usherette, at my uncle's movie theater in hope that we could be the first to get tv in our block and family. Never mind that the broadcast were very limited. Everyone liked me at 4:45 P.M. on Saturdays. It was the only time there was children programming.
My dad took off for the Pais's as soon as he could. I, was left alone. I would draw the curtains, wet the soap and washcloth. Made sure the toothbrush was wet so I could watch TV in the evening. The neighbor upstairs was suppose to watch me. She once did and found me in bed. She never checked on me again.
At night I woud watch Perry Como. That was all there was on. I always made sure I was in bed before my dad came home.

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.