I received my
elementary education at the Bigelow School off West Fourth St in Southie. We
were taught by a staff of dedicated teachers who were determined that we
receive the best education that the City of Boston could provide. It provided
me the basis of an education that took me to the Graduate level in college.
This story is not about them; rather it is about substitute teachers.
The majority
of substitute teachers we saw came just to maintain decorum during the class
period. We were told to use the time as a “study period.” There were two
substitute teachers however that stand out in my mind.
The first
was a recently returned soldier from WWII. He told us of his exploits while in
Italy including the time he spent in Rome before mustering out. He described a church
that was huge with a towering Rotunda and magnificent altar, of museums
containing sculptures and paintings, and of a chapel where God was painted on
the ceiling. Of course he was describing the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel. I
hung on every word spoken. I will eternally be grateful to him for exposing a
world outside of my very limited knowledge as a young boy.
The second
substitute teacher was a recent graduate from college. She came to teach the
Music class we had once a week. She brought with her music scores of songs sung
during the Civil War period. With her back to us at the piano we sang songs
like The Battle Hymn of the Republic, Dixie, When Johnny Comes Marching Home
Again etc. When she passed out the song Massa’s in the Cold, Cold Ground, we
all kind of snickered. Without a word spoken between us we bellowed out “My Ass
is in the Cold, Cold Ground.” Every time the refrain returned we upped the
volume a little bit until the final refrain where we screamed as loud as 12
year old mischievous boys can, “My Ass is in the Cold, Cold Ground”
That is the memory of 70 years ago at the old Bigelow
School.
