I don't specifically remember my first day, but I remember many other days. Folks here seem to have been much more cognizant of the responses of others around them than I was. I remember feeling intensely overwhelmed by the presence of more than say four or five other children in the room at the same time, and I escaped by going deep inside myself. This was 1954, and the kindergarten was a converted garage in that back of their house. I remember the house was a wood frame house and there was a breeze way between the converted garage and the lady's house. I remember looking into the backdoor and noticing that it lead into the kitchen. I remember the house was painted white. They had us doing some kind of excises on paper. I don't recall what it was. I had not learned to read yet. I didn't really start learning to read until late in first grade, but it didn't really kick in until 2'nd grade. But we had these activities that we did that involved coloring I guess, but when I did not finish all my exercises during the time there during the week, I got to be taken back in on Sunday afternoon to finish. I spent many Sunday afternoons back at kindergarten doing my unfinished assignments. I remember, the lady who ran the school was slightly obese, and she had a kind of low voice for a woman, and many Sunday afternoons were spent just me and her sitting at a table while she watched me finish my assignments.
About midway through the morning a young man would come in and play the piano and lead the class in a sing along. I remember once they were singing "...Have you ever seen a lassi, a lassi, a lassi go this way and that..." and wondering what a lassi might be, and then the man at the piano turned to the class and asked that very question. "Does anyone here know what a lassi is?", and several kids raised their hands, and the one the man chose to answer said, "It's what they call young girls in Europe." I remember wondering what Europe might be, and concluding it must be a really strange place.