Wise Guy

While in the city I had been accepted into an accelerated Junior High school program where you were able to complete 3 year’s of schooling in 2. Robert E. Lee Junior high school, P.S. 49. The facilities were unbelievable, considering we were supposed to be the crème de la crème of Baltimore’s youth. Located in the middle of a block of row houses, three blocks from the railroad station, the building dated to the late 19th century. The lunch room was underground in what most resembled a dungeon. The physical education areas were a blacktop playground with a basketball net and an indoor basketball court with an elevated ramp encircling the interior for running laps. The most popular outdoor activity was seeing who could hold their breath until they passed out. Geniuses.
Some administrator decided that we “brains” should be exposed to the real world and we were assigned to take “shop.” Since Robert E. Lee was not designed with this in mind we were sent to the shop areas of the next closest school, P.S. 79. Ours “peers” at 79 were considered by us to be thugs and juvenile delinquents, and, they in return labeled us as “momma’s boys” and sissies. No love was lost and we felt lucky that we escaped without a homicide or disfiguring assault. My contribution to the unused collection of projects made by generation after generation was a bottle opener, fashioned from an otherwise useful piece of steel in the “metal shop.” My parents were very proud.
My stint at R. E. Lee was cut short after about a year and a half when we moved to the suburbs. No longer being within the city boundaries meant a handsome tuition would have to be paid, so I became a country boy.