Thu, Nov 26 2009
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Published February 25, 2009 07:03 pm - I may not be the best typist in the world, but I’m not terrible. Childhood days at Pierpont Elementary A ROBERT LEBZELTER column for March 1, 2009 I may not be the best typist in the world, but I’m not terrible. I consider the personal typing class I took in high school one of my most helpful courses, even though it was only a half a year and was done on old, manual typewriters. But my first experience with typing dates to the early 1960s. My dad had just gone from being a fifth-grade teacher at Lincoln Elementary School to principal at Pierpont. To be frank, I was more impressed that he also taught gym at the school. With four young boys in the family, he also spent summers washing buses. Now that was cool. Not sure how many of today’s principals wash buses. One day, for reasons I have long forgotten, he brought us to work. I remember us invading the secretary's office. She let me try her typewriter. I was fascinated by hitting those keys and watching the letters appear on a sheet of paper. Aaaabbbbcccxxxxx. A great writer in the making right then and there. Dad said something to me like, “Now don't bother her.” But the secretary smiled and said we were OK and let us play on her typewriter for awhile longer. I'm sure after awhile we discovered the playground or the gymnasium or something. We spent a lot of time in Pierpont when I was growing up. It was a long venture down Route 7 from our house in North Conneaut. I decided early in life I didn't like fish, until we attended a Pierpont Fire Department fish fry. I remember the big grills of chicken they would barbecue, too, along with beans and fries and the like. This, of course, was before I decided to end my association with meat. Speaking of meat, when my mother was hospitalized, Pierpont residents loaded my dad up with food for his big family. I remember a pot roast that was so good, it tasted nothing like what we bought in the store. 
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