Yesterday, I learned that Bunny Groves passed away recently. Mrs. Groves, as I knew her, was my gym teacher at Southwood Elementary School in Old Bridge, NJ.
I can still remember the first time I met her. It was my first day of my pre-kindergarten class in September of 1972. I was still a little bit of a mama's boy and the thought of going to school, without her nearby, frightened me beyond words. I waited in our blue station wagon with my mom, nervously clutching the door as sat there, parked on Farmbrook Drive, near the crosswalk, just west of the school.
We sat there for a while and then after some convincing by mom, I agreed to walk with her across the street to the front of the school. When we got there, Mrs. Groves was waiting in her polyester pants suit, ushering the young, new students onto the asphalt playground where I would eventually spend countless hours over the next eight years of my life.
Mrs. Groves had a quick conversation with my mother and after that it was time for me to go into the school. I clutched the fence, kicking, screaming and crying. I didn't want to go; I didn't want to leave my mother's side. Mrs. Groves took me by the shoulders and guided me into the school yard. She told my mom it was OK to leave now, but my mom said she would be waiting for me right outside. I'm sure this must have been very difficult for her, looking back as I walked away crying. It was probably the most traumatic moment of my life at that point, which is why I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. Needless to say, after my fourth day, I became acclimated to school and soon began to enjoy it without crying. I made many friends, some of which I am still in touch with today.
I have many fond memories of my experiences at Southwood. Only a handful of my teachers really stand out in my mind. Mrs. Groves was one of them. She was tough as nails, but kind. I enjoyed being in her company. Her voice was direct. When she told you to do something, she didn't yell at you, but you knew she meant business. She was probably only five feet tall but to me she was a giant.
A few years later, in gym class, we had a fun activity that Mrs. Groves organized with a parachute (a real parachute!) She put it on the floor and instructed about 150 of us to make a circle around the parachute and then pick it up. When we all had it up off the floor, she threw 4-5 kickballs onto the parachute and we raised and lowered the parachute, watching the balls bounce in every direction. It was the most fun any 8-year-old could ever have.
I noticed that the parachute had an opening at the center. There was a small hole, about 7-8" in diameter and I thought it would be fun to go underneath the parachute and peek out the hole to say hello to my friends. When Mrs. Groves saw me under the parachute, waving out of the center hole, lightning struck. Her voice, loud and forceful, "Jeffrey!!! You get out of there immediately. You are penalized!" I didn't know what the word meant at the time, but soon learned as I sat in the corner of the room for the rest of the class. I can still hear her saying it to me, so clearly in my mind. Some things like this stay with you for life. Looking back, I realize that I could have suffocated if I became trapped until the parachute, so she was definitely right to punish me.
I'm sad to hear that she's gone. It would have been nice to see her again at some point over the years to reminisce. I have so much sentimentality towards my childhood teachers. I suppose thinking about them or seeing them brings us back to that time in our lives when things were easier and life wasn't as complicated.
Rest in peace, Mrs. Groves.
I can still remember the first time I met her. It was my first day of my pre-kindergarten class in September of 1972. I was still a little bit of a mama's boy and the thought of going to school, without her nearby, frightened me beyond words. I waited in our blue station wagon with my mom, nervously clutching the door as sat there, parked on Farmbrook Drive, near the crosswalk, just west of the school.
We sat there for a while and then after some convincing by mom, I agreed to walk with her across the street to the front of the school. When we got there, Mrs. Groves was waiting in her polyester pants suit, ushering the young, new students onto the asphalt playground where I would eventually spend countless hours over the next eight years of my life.
Mrs. Groves had a quick conversation with my mother and after that it was time for me to go into the school. I clutched the fence, kicking, screaming and crying. I didn't want to go; I didn't want to leave my mother's side. Mrs. Groves took me by the shoulders and guided me into the school yard. She told my mom it was OK to leave now, but my mom said she would be waiting for me right outside. I'm sure this must have been very difficult for her, looking back as I walked away crying. It was probably the most traumatic moment of my life at that point, which is why I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. Needless to say, after my fourth day, I became acclimated to school and soon began to enjoy it without crying. I made many friends, some of which I am still in touch with today.
I have many fond memories of my experiences at Southwood. Only a handful of my teachers really stand out in my mind. Mrs. Groves was one of them. She was tough as nails, but kind. I enjoyed being in her company. Her voice was direct. When she told you to do something, she didn't yell at you, but you knew she meant business. She was probably only five feet tall but to me she was a giant.
A few years later, in gym class, we had a fun activity that Mrs. Groves organized with a parachute (a real parachute!) She put it on the floor and instructed about 150 of us to make a circle around the parachute and then pick it up. When we all had it up off the floor, she threw 4-5 kickballs onto the parachute and we raised and lowered the parachute, watching the balls bounce in every direction. It was the most fun any 8-year-old could ever have.
I noticed that the parachute had an opening at the center. There was a small hole, about 7-8" in diameter and I thought it would be fun to go underneath the parachute and peek out the hole to say hello to my friends. When Mrs. Groves saw me under the parachute, waving out of the center hole, lightning struck. Her voice, loud and forceful, "Jeffrey!!! You get out of there immediately. You are penalized!" I didn't know what the word meant at the time, but soon learned as I sat in the corner of the room for the rest of the class. I can still hear her saying it to me, so clearly in my mind. Some things like this stay with you for life. Looking back, I realize that I could have suffocated if I became trapped until the parachute, so she was definitely right to punish me.
I'm sad to hear that she's gone. It would have been nice to see her again at some point over the years to reminisce. I have so much sentimentality towards my childhood teachers. I suppose thinking about them or seeing them brings us back to that time in our lives when things were easier and life wasn't as complicated.
Rest in peace, Mrs. Groves.
