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Chapter Four: School Days

 Indian Hill School was a hub for the neighborhood. We loved our teachers and the big grassy playground too. From kindergarten to sixth grade we learned in mostly traditional ways sitting at our desks, reading from our text books, and listening to our teachers. I remember both the mishaps and good times from every grade.  In kindergarten, as I recounted, there were the revelations and excitement about school as well as the amazing teacher, Ms. Ball.  In first grade, I remember that learning to read was challenging. We sat in small reading groups and practiced reading as we read stories about Dick and Jane and their many friends and family members. I peed in my pants in first grade. I had my hand up, but the teacher didn't see it, and then it was too late. I was very embarrassed, by Dana Rice, who sat next to me was very nice. My teacher, Mrs. Howard, was very nice too. In second grade, I was in a basement classroom with Ms. Foley. Ms. Foley was actually a distant relative of ours.

Chapter Three: Indian Hill

 Indian Hill was a terrific neighborhood. Most moms were home. Most dads went to work. Most houses were filled with children or elderly relatives, and almost every child attended Indian Hill School. We all walked to and from school and after school we'd get together with friends to explore and play games. There were neighborhood traditions that we all looked forward to such as Halloween, St. George's Church Bayberry Fair, the school Christmas Show, Valentine's Day, and, of course, school winter and spring vacations.  Halloween found us dressing up for the Indian Hill Halloween Parade which we all loved. Afterwards we had parties in the classroom, and then trick-or-treated at night all over the neighborhood. The Bayberry Fair had all kinds of booths and a raffle at the end. We spent the day shopping at the booths our mothers and fathers manned buying used toys, knitted mittens, baked goods and candy. Everyone dressed up for the school Christmas show and most of us saw each o

Chapter Two: Rochelle Street

 When I was six, my parents bought a house in the North end of Worcester on Rochelle Street. It was exciting to move to a new house. The neighborhood boys, Randy, Perry, and Eddy, engaged us in a game of Cowboys and Indians on our first days there and tied some of us to trees. They were a mischeivous trio of boys that both exasperated us and entertained us during those early days on Rochelle Street. Our house was a small cape painted green. Mom and Dad had a bedroom on the first floor, and there was a room for the boys and a room for the girls on the second floor. When we moved in there were four of us. I was six, Paul was 4, Christine was 2 and Peter was a new baby. Mom and dad worked tirelessly to make the house look beautiful. Our room had pretty curtains, a decorative lamp, and nice bedspreads.  We lived a few doors up from St. George's Church which was a centerpiece of our young lives on Rochelle Street. Mom joined the Women's Guild, Dad belonged to the Men's Club, and

Chapter One

 My story starts well before I was born. My mom and dad desperately wanted a baby. Their brothers and sisters had many, many children before I was born, and both my parents loved children. Finally, about five years after they were married, they decided to adopt a child. They readied the room and were filled with happy anticipation, then to their surprise my mom became pregnant with me. They cancelled the adoption so another couple could welcome that baby, and began to prepare for my birth.  I was born on February 14, 1959, Valentine's Day, one day before my dad's birthday, February 15th. It was a difficult birth for my mother. I was bruised and had a dislocated hip upon arrival. My parents were delighted with me, but very, very protective. My mom took pleasure in dressing me in beautiful outfits. I was loved. Less than two years after my birth, my parents welcomed Paul Henry Pratt, Jr., then two years later, Christine Marie Pratt. We lived in the second floor apartment of a thr