Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, January 8, 1995 TAG: 9501070014
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: G-5 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DONNA ALVIS-BANKS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
It was the year Alabama Gov. George Wallace made a pledge at his inauguration: "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever."
It was the year 200,000 blacks and whites joined hands at the Lincoln Memorial to show their support for a civil rights bill sent to Congress by President John F. Kennedy.
It was the year the Supreme Court ruled that prayer in public schools was unconstitutional.
Yes, I remember 1963.
It was the year I was a fifth-grader at Christiansburg Elementary School.
I was too young to really understand the world around me then, but I could feel the tension in my bones.
When Mrs. Wilson, my fifth-grade teacher, announced one day that the president had been shot, several of the children in the classroom clapped their hands and cheered.
I don't think they gave much thought to their outburst. They were just reacting to the mood of the day. Because of his stand on civil rights, President Kennedy was unpopular in segregated Southwest Virginia.
1963.
We lived then in a climate of fear, and we were taught to expect the worst.
I still remember the knot that twisted in my stomach each time the alarm sounded for the civil defense drill. Like the rest of the children, I scurried underneath my desk and wrapped my arms over my head. Like the other children, I giggled and squirmed until it was over.
I wonder if they were hiding their uneasiness as I was. Deep down, I believed nuclear war would come and I was afraid.
1963.
Postage stamps were a nickel. Milk was still delivered to your front door.
Sonny Liston was the heavyweight champion of the world. Peter, Paul and Mary had a hit with "Puff the Magic Dragon."
For me, 1963 was the best - and the worst - of times.
Visiting the fifth-grade children at Riner Elementary School took me back to those times.
Of course, some things are different now.
Computers, calculators, rulers with metric measurements - they're all standard classroom supplies today. The world maps are different, too, for the world has changed dramatically in the past 31 years.
But children haven't changed so much.
I talked to the kids at Riner Elementary. I ate lunch with them and walked with them on the playground and watched them in action. I asked them to write to me about their fears, different from those of my generation, but just as real.
"My biggest fear," wrote Beverly Cox, "is that one night when I'm lying in bed, someone is going to break into my house. With all the violence in the world, it's hard not to be afraid of somebody harming you."
For Barry Duncan, "my biggest fear is somebody will kidnap me."
Leigh Anne Correll also worries "that one day I will get lost or stolen and never come back."
"I'm afraid that people will starve and have no money!" said Staci Humphrey. "Everybody will lose food, homes and their jobs."
Poverty, violence, death - these are the monsters under the bed for many of the children. Others are frightened by more typical childhood terrors: spiders, snakes, things that lurk in the woods at night.
Several are anxious about personal failure.
"My biggest fear is maybe not getting my homework done because I couldn't understand the directions," admitted Cassie Smith.
"My biggest fear is not passing fifth grade," said Tamera Harris.
by CNB