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Big Heroes – Little People

Second grade was a very special year for me. It was in the second grade that we really started having close friends and talking secrets. It was interesting to know about yourself that your parents don’t know.

Like falling in the swamp on the way to school. That was the day my second grade teacher, Mrs. Bjorklund became my hero. He didn’t tell anyone what happened. He would have taken us to the headmaster and scolded us to our parents, but he didn’t. I thought he was amazing, he was one of us.

It was a warm Friday afternoon in May. The 20th graders were all pacing the desks, nervously looking at the clock. Mrs. Bjorklund always had us sing after 3:00 on Fridays. He wasn’t stupid enough to try and teach anything to the little kids who were looking intently at the long hand on the clock, sweeping the minutes. There are only thirty minutes to go.

We were singing my favorite song since second grade “Carmelita”. It said, “Sing your song Carmelita, please Carmelita, please sing me your song. It won’t be long Carmelita, please Carmelita, please sing me your song. And the donkey went away happily, walking with a happy drawing. clop” That was a great song, I especially liked the part clip clop.

Mrs. Bjorklund was leading us in the song when Mr. Katon poked his head in the door. He was our teacher. He was a very nice person. He poked his head in to wish us a good week every Friday. He was friendly, smiling a lot and I think he was very tall. I think he was tall, I don’t know because I was seven years old, everyone looked tall to me.

He smiled at us while we were singing and went to close the door but it was locked. We opened the windows so his breath caught him off guard. It was great, we didn’t miss a beat.

As the minutes passed we were both scared and excited. When you grow up on Lake Superior, hot spring days are a big deal. You can run and play without worrying about the cold. It was the perfect season for a game of hopscotch or Chinese skipping rope. We used to play this game a lot when we were kids. Those were the video games of my childhood. You can’t do it internally or by yourself.

So the time was 3:25, Mrs. Bjorklund gave us the OK book to put our books and straighten our desks to be nice and clean on Monday. We were all happy. We couldn’t wait to be released. It was like opening the gate to a pasture where all the cows were running like mad.

Another good thing about second grade, there is no homework. Our homework was helping around the house. Cleaning the chandelier with my older sister, or sweeping. I was too young to argue.

Finally, the last ten seconds. I watch the movement of the long hand on the clock as the seconds tick by. Then the bell rang. Thanks we all stood up and headed for the door.

Why didn’t the door open? I heard someone say that the door is closed. We were all walking around and some of the kids started to look worried. Mrs. Bjorklund came to see what was wrong, she told us to go back so she could open the door.

He turned the knot, nothing happened. Then he pushed the door, nothing happened. He shook the door, but nothing happened.

The children were very upset. A young boy, the head teacher’s son was crying. He said he would be late for a visit from Kerri T. I know there were only seven of us, but we were very strict. He was going to meet her on the slide and they were going to play on the merry-go-round. Very advanced.

Mrs. Bjorklund returned to the front of the room and sat at her desk. He was thinking of a way to save us. We all sat down in our seats, and looked up. We knew he could think of something, he was big. He can save us.

He had an idea. We were all writing notes and pushing them under the door. Someone can see the notes, pick them up and save us.

So we frantically wrote notes, asking for help. We were stranded and needed help. We were a little curious. I mean, we were on the first floor, lots of windows, and we had running water. Wait, we didn’t have a bathroom. Now that’s a problem. We were only 7 years old, and we didn’t have much time for someone else to go.

So we pushed the notes under the door and out into the hall and waited. We waited and waited but no one came. This got us thinking. Who were we waiting for? The bell rang 10 minutes ago on a warm Friday afternoon. The buses were gone and it seemed everyone was gone.

Several other children started crying and the rest of us were worried. We had been waiting all week for Friday night and were allowed to stay indoors for a short time because of the warm weather. We had to go home, there was hop scotch to hop on and Barbies to play with, bikes to ride. We were all busy that night, we had to get out of there. I’m sure no one realized this, but we were little bosses with big plans. Friday night, playing hopscotch, was our social calendar and it was time to go.

Mrs. Bjorklund was thinking again at her desk. Then he started looking in the windows. It was like that!!! We would send someone out the window. We were on the first floor. The windows were broken, so it had to be someone small to fit through the hole. Who could it be????

We had a volunteer, Timmy Fleck. Timmy came from a large family. All the children looked the same. Small, thin frames, spots and shaking red hair. I had a feeling that maybe Timmy was already out of this type of window. He was such a kid, always on the edge.

In art class one day, we were all wearing our art smocks (our father’s old shirts turned inside out), our art teacher gave us each a piece of charcoal. We had to take a picture of a house. So while we were all trying to do this, Timmy stood up to go to Boy’s room.

He went into it and pulled his beard, beard and eyebrows with the charcoal. Then he returned to class. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard at school before that, or since. It was the funniest thing a seven-year-old did that I’ve ever seen. He got into trouble.

So when he volunteered to go out the window, none of us were surprised.

He climbed out of the window and Mrs. Bjorklund made him start out of the window, then grabbed his feet and started kicking him. There was just one problem. He was not enough.

Apparently, Timmy had his growth spurt in the second grade. I hadn’t really noticed him yet but he was getting bigger. Despite this, he was still the youngest child in the class.

Mrs. Bjorklund pulled him inside again. Two or three other children were crying.

We will never go out. We would have died there. Our parents would gather together and search for us. When our poor crippled bodies were finally found, it would be too late. The whole town will be sad. There wouldn’t be a church big enough to accommodate all the grieving families.

They would all be very sad and sing our favorite song. Yes, he will study “Carmelita”. Maybe they could get a donkey to pull the cart to carry the boxes. Maybe a donkey can walk with a happy locker. It was very sad.

Years from now, children will follow our example. We died in school, we are learning things and they remember us for that.

I was a boy when I was seven years old.

Then I heard a knock!! There was someone knocking at the door!! We all had fun!!! It was Mr. Katon, he was there, he would have saved us. Mrs. Bjorklund ran to the door and told him that it was locked and she could not open it.

Mr. Katon told him to stand away from the door and told all the children to go back to the windows. So we all piled together at the windows. This was very interesting, like the story from Lassie where Dad finally follows Lassie to save the little girl.

Mr. Katon took off his jacket and folded his shirt. With his shoulder he ran to the door and slammed it with all his might. It opened.

We all enjoyed and enjoyed. We were saved!! Mr. Katon saved us. We were all smiling and happy. This was the best day of my life. It was like a super hero had come to our rescue. He saved us from death, saved us from the problems of not having dinner, saved us to grow up and get married and have children and told them a powerful story about how we look at death and laugh.

OK, I’m still weird.

Looking back on that day seems funny now. It certainly wasn’t funny when it happened. I’m still scared. It’s funny, being scared now doesn’t feel any different than being scared then. I’m just afraid of different things now. I’m afraid AA feels trapped in a Friday afternoon class. I have a lot of things to do, I’m in a hurry to go out, I want to go see my friends but like second grade, the door is locked.

Mr. Katon is not coming to knock down the door for me this time. I have to do it myself. If little Timmy Fleck would be willing to climb out of that window and be held down by his ankles, I can certainly go outside and look at anything there is.

Heroes come in all shapes, from the great Mr. Katon to Timmy Fleck, they are all heroes in our lives. Our greatest hero is the one inside all of us. The little voice that says “I’m still here, you can do anything if you try.”

So what are you waiting for? Friday afternoon, it’s nice out there, go get it!!!

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