My soon to be 93-year old dad lives at Evergreen Place, an assisted living facility across from ISU's golf course on Gregory St. in Normal. That's pretty close to our home, so we visit him a lot, run errands for him and take him places for bits of adventure. We took him to our son's home last Saturday afternoon for our granddaughter's 4th birthday party.

We were sitting on the patio having a nice Avanti's gondola sandwich lunch, and without missing a chew, he said to me, "Oh Judy Ann, I forgot to tell you I met somebody at "the home" and you are not going to believe who it was." I played along and I said, "OK Dad, don't keep me hanging here." He said, "It's your kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Sutherland." I nearly dropped my gondola! What are the odds, in this day and age, that my kindergarten teacher and her husband had recently moved into an assisted living facility where my dad lives, leaving behind their home of 64 years on Seminary St. in Bloomington? I had seen an obituary of Ed Sutherland in the Pantagraph recently, and I knew he lived at Evergreen Place, but in my mind I was trying to figure out the years and the numbers, and I concluded that "my" Miss Sutherland must be his daughter. Ed died at age 93, and I was mistaken. "My" Miss Sutherland was his wife.

A couple of days ago I took dad some cookies he especially likes, and after visiting awhile, I went to see Virginia Sutherland. I knocked on the door of Room 121, and a lilting feminine voice said to come in. I walked into the room and there she was, sitting in her chair, and she said, "Well, Judy!" like she'd been waiting for me to show up for ages. Can you imagine!!? Sixty years and 200 lbs later she knew who I was!

I looked at this diminutive white-haired woman, trying to find the Miss Sutherland I knew, and there she was, in her mouth and eyes especially, and even in her shape. My Miss Sutherland was Mrs. Ed Sutherland. So that is mostly what we talked about - Ed's death. She has two daughters in their 50s, one in Texas and one out east somewhere I think she said, neither nearby anyway. It was a real problem for her when her husband became ill because there was no one to look after them, get him to doctor appointments, etc. When it was time for me to leave, I gave her some of the same kind of cookies I'd taken my dad, and her eyes lit up and she said she LOVES cookies. I told her that on leaving I would tell her a story about my kindergarten experience that I shared with my own children.

And so I began, " In the winter time, we all wore woolen snowsuits. Remember Ralphie's little brother in the Christmas Story movie, stuffed into that suit till he could hardly move? That was us, boys and girls alike. Since most of us walked to and from school, we horse-played and had a good time in the snow, and we'd have snow packed all over us when we got to school. You would brush us off with a broom and we'd peel those wet suits off in the cloak room and pile them into your arms. You hung them to dry over the big radiators under the windows along the south side of the room...and the whole room smelled like wet dogs all morning!" (Do you know, I can smell it even now.)

She laughed and clapped her hands. I gave her a hug, and she hugged me back and said, "Please come back and see me."

Believe me, Miss Sutherland, I will look forward to doing that.

Judy Kober Hirsch

NOTE:
I remember sitting on the rug with you for story time and we'd hold hands, Duane Dungan. George Farnsworth, we did some hand holding too. Bonnie Satterfield, I seem to remember you there, but I'm not absolutely sure. Who of the rest of you remember "our" Miss Sutherland? If you would care to write her, her address is Mrs. Virginia Sutherland, 801 Gregory St., Apt. 121, Normal, IL 61761 I am certain she would be thrilled to hear from you.

I don't remember who took my place when I was supposed to be The Little Engine That Could but was too apprehensive to get up enough courage to do that, but I do remember hiding behind the piano so I wouldn't have to. I also remember acting out Three Billy Goats Gruff and tramp, tramp, tramping over the bridge.

I must not have been too terribly shy, for when administration wanted to do a comparison study and needed the same amount of students in the morning and afternoon classes, I volunteered to go all day to make up the one student missing in the afternoon. Or maybe it was mom who volunteered me. Hmmmm....