I was rummaging around in my attic and found some old photos and letters that are a hoot.
This is a picture of me in first grade. I was six years old. The photo fails to capture my orneriness. (1968, Commerce, Oklahoma)
This is a picture of me the following year in the second grade. The little sailor dress I was wearing was my favorite. (1969, Commerce, Oklahoma)
This is a pic of me and my little brother, Eddie Lee. I’m seven, he’s two. I’m riding him around on my Shetland pony. The pony’s name was Topper. That’s my Grandpa, Arles Ferguson, in the background. This pic was taken on his farm in Big Cabin, Oklahoma.
This is my favorite photo of my Grandma. It was her high school basketball picture. (1930. Big Cabin, Oklahoma.) I’m totally loving the uniform. This was when the rules of women’s basketball were half-court and a player wasn’t allowed to take more than three dribbles before passing.
I also found a couple of letters I wrote when I was eight and going into Third Grade. This first letter was written to my Kindergarten teacher after I saw her one Saturday at T.G. & Y. I gave it to my mother to mail to her, but obviously she didn’t. In the letter, I reference a fight that I got into and beat a boy up. I also wrote the letter with three different colored pens. Here’s the letter, verbatim, complete with misspellings:
Dear Mrs. Watts,
Hi! You were wrong. I do remember you. Edie Lee Knox Junouir is doing O.K.! How are you? I hope you are fine. Well your husband also. I am in third grde. I was sad when I found out that you had moved. It’s about time to switch colors. I want you to know I will remember you all my life. There are a couple of pictures on back. Oh yes I can still remember when you went out of the room for a while. Well Rusty started calling me names. Well I asked him to fight me! He said yes! I beat him up. After that he didn’t say a word to me. May God bless you. Layce
Here’s a scan of the picture I drew for her on the back. I know you can’t see it too well and that’s probably a good thing. It’s titled “The Burgur Man.”
Here’s another letter I wrote that same summer when I was eight. I wrote it to my mother. My brother, Eddie Lee, and I went to Colorado with my Grandparents for a month. They had a Winnebago that we drove from Oklahoma. They towed a little Subaru car behind the Winnebago. (this is all backstory for the letter) I think you’ll agree I have an innate sense of drama and commas have always given me fits.
How are things? Done anything new? Anything been exciting? Talking about exciting, up here in the mountains of Colorado, theres been a lot of exciting things, for instance, on the way up here we were driving on wet pavement when Grampa said “I wonder how the little car is coming along?” Well I was going to see how the car was doing, When all of a sudden Grampa hit a bump and I lost my balanse and I slashed my little toe on the ice box, it bled a long time. I can’t get on most of my shoes because it’s swollen. It’s hard to breathe up here too.
Layce & Eddie Lee
That’s all I’ve found so far. Do me a favor – if you all don’t hear from me for a couple of days, send Saxon to search for me in the attic. I’m probably buried under some old photo boxes.