Mrs. Kennerly

That is the name of the woman who changed the whole trajectory of my life. Whether for better or worse? Decide for yourself.

To put you in the right frame of mind, I was born a long time ago. Maybe a couple of long times ago. It was a time when conditions such as ADHD and Dyslexia, if named at all, were not generally known to regular folks. I had both of them. The fancy names weren't used by us commoners. Folks just called me stupid. Worse were the teachers who mostly said, “Eddie is very bright but needs to discipline himself....” and various things like that which put the blame on me.

So let's skip first through third grade and go straight to fourth. It is 1959. My mother and father are separated if not already divorced. Stuff like that was beyond my pay grade. Before and after the separation, the family had moved. First to follow my military Dad and, presently, chasing a job for my Mom.

We wound up in Daytona Beach, Florida. My Uncle Carroll lived there, producing children and running a bar. He had found a job for my mother. So I started mid-year in the third grade. I do not remember the name of the elementary school. I am not good with names, but there are some I do not forget, like Mrs. Kennerly. I am sure she had a first name, but I doubt I ever heard it. Remarkably enough, when fourth grade started, I was in the same school where I attended third grade. That was unusual.

One Fighter Meets Another

So it was off to fourth grade. We, Mrs Kennerly and I, hit it off from the start. You see, Mrs. Kennerly had Polio as a child. She still had a minor limp but, to give you an idea of her character, her BA was in Physical Education. Even as a nine-year-old, going on ten, that amazed me. You should have seen her kick a football. I think, perhaps, her experience of being handicapped and a perennial underdog made her look at me, too stupid or too rebellious to succeed, differently than others. They saw a loser and she saw a fighter.

Eddie Can't Read

It took somewhere less than a fortnight for Mrs. Kennerly to become certain I could not read. Saying that, you might think it a long time, but when you think about the fact three different teachers over two school years did not notice, it doesn't seem so bad. I suspect though she knew the first day that EDDIE CAN'T READ. She took the rest of the two weeks to decide exactly what she would do, and only one day to act on the problem. She had a meeting with my mother. I was present for the meeting too because, Mrs. Kennerly always treated her students like, well, short adults. She spoke to us with kindness, but directness; a skill I tried to learn and emulate. After the introductions and the how are yous came the news,

“Mrs. Hall, Eddie cannot read. I will make no excuses for why it took this long to find that out, but the fact remains he cannot. Because of that, I am going to tell you one thing and assure you of another. The first is Eddie will have to repeat the fourth grade. The assurance is that by the time this school year is over he WILL be able to read.”

My short little mother was known to have a “whim of iron” but she did not argue. By the time the meeting was over, she and Mrs. Kennerly were what you younger folks now call Besties. That meeting solved another problem. Mrs. Kennerly lived a few houses away from us in Ormand Beach. Looking back, I think she knew her “Reading Program” was going to cause me trouble with the other, less open-minded, kids. She offered to drive me home from school. Mother said yes. Me? Mrs Kennerly drove a 1962 Corvette. Go home in that or on a school bus with kids? I did not need much time to think.

Reading Lessons

Mom went back home. When school was out I, of course, had to wait a few minutes for Mrs. Kennerly. She used that time to quiz me about myself.

What was my favorite ball team? The Cardinals.

What about football? No fan.

What was my favorite TV Show? DAVY CROCKETT!

And that started the conversation. Where my Grandparents lived was within easy driving distance to Davy Crockett's home place, and that of Sergeant York, whoever he was. I found out later.

On the way home in the very cool Corvette with red leather seats, I talked Mrs. Kennerly's ears off with all the things I had watched on TV, or heard from the older folks, about Davy who WAS who I wanted to be. Who knew that, unlike so many adults, she was listening?

Back when I went to school the schedule was set by the teacher. So it was no surprise when, early on the next day, we went to the library. Coming in the door, Mrs. Kennerly took my hand and led me to a shelf, which I knew was Children's literature. There she picked up a book. I do not know, but I suspect that she had talked to the librarian before school. Then again, being who she was, she might have known the exact location to find any book in the place.

I looked at the book. While I could not read well enough to comprehend sentences and paragraphs, with some patience I could sound out the title. Davy Crockett, Boy Frontiersman. Who knew? Not me. There were books out there that mattered to me. Books that had information I WANTED to know. Things I NEEDED to know. It did not magically make reading easy for me. What it did, was make me more committed to reading those books.

Boy, Can Eddie Read!

For the rest of the year, I read at school. Oh, I could listen to “'ritin' and 'rithmatic'” and me being who I am, was occasionally “taught to the tune of the hickory stick” but my assignment was to read. Anything and everything as long as it wasn't illegal or immoral. Every day on the way home, Mrs. Kennerly quizzed me on what I was reading. Soon I was reading at home for pleasure.

On the last day of school, Mrs. Kennerly took me and my brother home because I was crying. I had failed. I think only she knew the real secret. I had not failed; I had been set on the right track. Two years later, in fifth grade at another school up there in my Davy Crockett mountains, I maxed out the standardized reading test for my class at 10^th grade plus.

Mrs. Kennerly, I highly suspect you are in heaven. Assuming I make it too, one of the reasons is that I can read the Bible because of you. Thank You.