Mom and Dad

Walking down the streets of Denton I began to notice that Mom was shorter than most other ladies.  She wore  her hair combed up in back,  piled atop her head, held in place by decorative combs, and she had very good posture.  She smiled and laughed a lot, and when she did housework she sort of sang, a vocalized humming, la la la without any real tune.  She could lose her temper, but was mostly kind and loving.  She often seemed to forget I was there, staring into space and not responding to questions.  If I finally got her attention she would just laugh gaily, dismissing any concerns I may have voiced.
In his uniform, with his first Sergeant stripes, Dad was an authority figure.  Once he took me to his office, and all the younger enlisted mean were very wary in his presence.  He was also shorter than the other soldiers.  He had a big grin, rendered kind of goofy by the big gap between his two front teeth.
When he got home from the training base he would start drinking beer.  I was urged to play outside.
Sometimes other Army friends and their wives would come over on Friday night.  In my bedroom I could hear them talking and laughing.  In the morning there was always a mess of empty bottles and snacks of food on plates.  I helped myself to the snacks and sometimes tried a sip of beer from a bottle not emptied, then I went into their bedroom to say that I was going outside to play.
If it were a Sunday they would make sure I was dressed in my suit and send me off to Sunday School at the neighborhood church, but on Saturday I wore old clothes and went outside.
I also liked to sit and read.  I had discovered Classic Comics, which were comic book versions of classic novels.  My favorite was Les Miserables, mostly because of the scenes of Jean Valjean running through the sewers.  I also liked Robin Hood.  Actually I read almost everything I could get my hands on, from Thornton W Burgess to books featuring Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck.  Dad offered to read to me, but I said I would rather do it myself.
There was not much interaction between my parents and me,  they mostly left me on my own.

School in Denton Texas

Denton Texas was like nothing I had ever seen.  The streets were paved, long, and lined with trees.  The trees were all deciduous, not a fir tree among them.  Even in midwinter they still had big flat leaves.
Mom held my hand as we walked down the street.  She had directions to the grade school from our land lady, who had shifted the can she spit in to her left hand and waved her right up the street before us.  "Straight up there,  honey, go a few blocks, you cant miss it."
So off we went.  After a few blocks I saw children walking down a cross street, headed for a large building, but we plowed straight on.
The houses got larger, and changed from wood to brick and stone construction.  A group of big buildings stood before us, sidewalks purposefully leading across vast green lawns.
We were both overwhelmed.
A young lady walked by and mom asked her if the grade school was nearby.  The young lady pointed to one of the large buildings and told us to go in there to register for the elementary school.
A man with grey hair and rimless glasses wearing a grey suit asked mom to fill out the proper forms and took me aside to ask me some questions.  He showed me a couple of books and I was able to read them with no problem.  I had been reading aloud from Horton Hatches the Egg to GD for months.
We did some addition and subtraction problems.  He smiled and told mom to take me to the first grade classroom.
The school in Wendling was small and simple.  The alphabet marched in order across the top of the wall and the students sat in desks attached to the floor in orderly rows and all recited in unison.
The classroom I entered in Denton was noisy.  Children stood or sat in small groups, and there were at least six young ladies helping the teacher in leading the separate groups in discussions or demonstrations.
Mom said, "They must do things different in Texas," and kissed me goodby.  I was led to one of the groups by a pretty young lady and after a few minutes I was eagerly engaged in the discussion.
At the end of the month mom got a bill, and we realized that she had enrolled me in the teaching lab of the North Texas State Teachers College.  She had to pay tuition, but she said that the education was worth it.
We were taught Spanish as well as English, typing, cursive writing; we discussed everything with the young ladies rather than listen to the teacher lecture.  Once a week we marched  hand in hand to attend college concerts and plays.  I shall never forget their production of "Showboat," and the young man in blackface singing "Old Man River."