“Memories From the Field”

       Fond memories were in so many locations of that school. Running around playing on the jungle gym, kickball, oh the memories. Though the strongest memories I have of that school were whilst I was playing kickball. I remember it so vividly, it’s like it had just happened yesterday. The most notable people I had played with were my friends Kevin and Juan we’d always be the first ones on the field and try to be the last ones off. We were so well known on that field that almost if not everyone knew our names. We’d step up to kick and you would begin to hear kids say,  
“It’s gone.”
“That ball’s history.”
“Ya’ll better start moving back.”
    That sort of thing had always made me laugh or smile the biggest smile ever known. Now, I don’t know about the other two but when I’d walk out to play kickball I felt like a king because I felt as though I were best. Some teachers were even impressed when we played. It was funny right after recess my fourth grade year my teacher Ms. Wolterman my fourth and fifth grade teacher had said to me,
“________, that was amazing I didn’t know you could kick like that.”
Of course now I feel like she only said that because she was obligated as a teacher to do so, but it still felt good to know that my teacher would watch me play.
    I remember it was the end of my fourth grade year. Ms. Wolterman had a kickball game against her brother Mr. Wolterman’s fifth grade class. It was a close game, sadly we had lost and of that age us boys had blamed the girls as young children do. Today, I realize that wasn’t the problem I think it was because we weren’t giving it our all as a class team or even as individuals for that matter. This being just one story of what I did back in elementary the worst memory I have from playing outside on the kickball field was when I was in first or second grade right around there. It was a more cloudy day I thought we weren’t going to go outside because it looked as if there was about to be a rigorous storm coming. Turns out something bad was going to happen to someone. Well as usual I was out on the kickball field where I usually remain but instead of kicking I was in the outfield. Everything was going just fine and I out of the blue hear a scream of bloody murder as if Jason Vorhees had came out of the forest behind the school. I had turned around in a panic to see my friend Alex was holding his arm. After recess we had went back to class to find out from our teacher that he had broken his arm. To this day he continually blames a close friend for it happening I don’t question it either because all I had seen was him on the ground.
Sure I have plenty of fond memories from my old school but those are some of my most vivid. To go any further with them I’d be able to write a small book over it. I truly miss that school and every last detail about it. Maybe one day in the future if I were to have kids I’d move back somewhere near it so my children can attend school there. Frances Willard Elementary great place, great teachers, good friends I’d do anything to have it all back.