Jefferson Elementary and the McDannald's...

I was 9 years old. 

My best friend, Cindy Naum, lived right across the street from me on Green Forest Drive. 

I had gotten the fourth grade teacher, Miss Fisher, that I had wanted since kindergarten. 

Life was good for me at Bowles Elementary School in Fenton, Missouri. 

Then my parents broke it to my brother and me that dad had taken a job in some far-away place called Jacksonville, Illinois. 

I remember my brother asking only one question. He wanted to know if people in Illinois cheered for the St. Louis Cardinals like our family had done for generations in Missouri. 

It was an extremely scary time. Even though we were only crossing one state line and driving a couple of hours...I was leaving the only home I'd ever known. Everything was unfamiliar. 

My dad had taken a job as principal of one of Jacksonville's elementary schools. 

Jefferson Elementary School was on North Clay Street. The building was absolutely beautiful. Large and impressive sitting on almost an entire block of its own, it was the center of the neighborhood. I thought it looked like a castle. 

I came from a school atmosphere in a suburb of St. Louis that was filled with kids from all over the area. Numerous neighborhoods pooled into the school I attended. It wasn't a true neighborhood 

school. There's no way I could have known all the kids who went to that school. There were too many. 

Jefferson was a neighborhood school, however, and it was a 'family' atmosphere like I'd never seen. Everyone knew everyone. 

Last night, Ed and I went into Kottage Kafe for a late dinner. Sitting at a table near the door was a couple I hadn't seen for years. They were a husband and wife who, merely by seeing them, immediately transported me back to when I was 9 and first came to Jacksonville. 

They were Jefferson Elementary School personified. 

Joe and Becky McDannald looked up and saw me.  I was surprised at the emotions I felt. The McDannald's mean comfort and acceptance. They were such important people to me when I met them over forty years ago. 

We talked for quite awhile. Catching up and talking about our families. Ed and I sat at a table close to theirs and we continued talking even after our food had come. 

It was when they started to leave that I knew I needed to get up and tell them goodbye.  As I first gave Joe a hug and then Becky, I became choked up and felt tears welling up in my eyes. 

These two people were so welcoming to my family when we knew no one. They not only volunteered at Jefferson at countless fundraisers, but they also welcomed my dad, my mom, my brother, and me into their home. We felt as if we were a part of the Jefferson neighborhood. So much time was spent with them and their family. 

Although I think of them from time to time, actually seeing them was overwhelming. I noticed tears in Becky's eyes, as well. I know we were both remembering the magic of those times shared so many years ago.

When they left, I told Ed I was surprised by the emotions that came to the surface by seeing the McDannald's. 

Maybe it's because I could see my family the way it was then. My mom, now gone for nearly 14 years, was young, beautiful, and full of life. We were embarking on what would become years and years of happiness in Jacksonvillle. 

I was 9 years old again in that moment. 

Even though I'm now a grown woman, Joe and Becky make me feel the way I did when I first met them. 

God Bless the McDannald's and the love they showed my family. 

I will be forever grateful for Jefferson Elementary and what it meant in my life. Looking at the picture of Jefferson evokes a warmth deep within my heart. 

The building no longer houses District 117 students but those walls still hold the laughter and friendship of all of us who once passed through its doors. 

It is so much more than a building. It was a neighborhood symbol for families, like the McDannald's, bound by what Jefferson represented during those years. It was the cornerstone of that community. 

We can't duplicate those times.

We can't duplicate those feelings. 

But, the memories are ours to keep. 

It is what it is. 

p