Timing is Everything

I went to school with two classmates who had polio and who were probably stricken with it the same year. It was the year before polio vaccine became available. I was reading about a man with polio last week when I began thinking about those two and I realized that I had known one when I was in first grade and the other when I was in twelfth.

The only name I can recall from first grade at Pleasantville Elementary is David’s. I remember him because (1) he joined us mid-semester, (b) he was the cutest guy in the class, and (3) he had braces on both legs. The braces added an air of vulnerability that even six year old girls find attractive.

Because of the braces, David was unable to maneuver the steps into our cafeteria. This was long before the general conscious realized that making accommodations for those with special challenges is the right thing to do. But I digress (or as my friend, Michelle, would say, “You’re rambling again.”). To get back to my remembrance, because of those stairs the first graders took turns carrying a lunch tray back to David. My parents moved half way across the state just before it was my turn. I’m still ticked. My only chance to impress the cutest guy in class and they ruined it.

My new best friend in my new first grade was named Connie. That’s not actually germane to this story, but it’s another interesting coincidence I thought I’d throw in.

Several moves later and I ended up going to a new school for my last year of high school. I should have been really ticked at that, but the school before that was a real stinker so I was happy to leave. (“You’re rambling again.”) My best friend at my new school was also named Connie. She also had braces on her legs from polio. She had a beautiful singing voice and was in several choirs at school and church. The Ensemble Choir included only the school’s most talented female singers. (I am not rambling. That point is important to the story.)

Every day after lunch I helped Connie maneuver the stairs to get to the next class and the English instructor soon learned to accept that I would be a couple of minutes late. (Because of her gregarious personality and singing talent, everybody knew Connie and nobody ever questioned me when I’d say “I was helping Connie.”)

One Saturday when we were window shopping Connie stopped in front of a shoe store to point out the dress shoes that the girls in the Ensemble Choir wore, a cute black slip-on with a modest heel. I was puzzled, “You don’t have shoes like that?”

“No, I don’t”, she replied in a voice as puzzled as mine.

“But YOU don’t have shoes like that!” I was getting a little ticked. It wasn’t fair that those other girls had pretty shoes and Connie didn’t.

After a few minutes of this, Connie explained, “Martha, I can’t wear those shoes with braces.”

The light finally dawned, “Oh, I forgot you wore braces.”

Boy, did I feel stupid. She was standing beside me wearing two cumbersome leg braces and had a crutch in each hand, and I forgot she wore braces. Connie thought it was hilariously funny. That’s probably why we were best friends. We didn’t notice the other’s handicaps. I don't pay attention to details and she has a strange sense of humor.