ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, September 2, 1996 TAG: 9609030119
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: Monty S. Leitch
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
I'LL BET you didn't know that it was on this date, in 490 B.C.E., that a Greek soldier named Philippedes ran from Marathon to Athens to report news of the Greeks' victory over Persian forces.
A feat duplicated in modern marathon races of 26 miles, even though it's really only 22 miles from Marathon to Athens.
But once you've run 22 miles, what's another four, more or less, right?
Ask a mother. Ask her on the first day of school. She'll tell you that she has run 22 miles in the aisles of Walmart alone - from the notebooks to the underwear to the shoes to the pencils and back to the notebooks again - and that another four miles would, indeed, make all the difference between maintaining her sanity and deciding to move to New Zealand before the bus arrives at the curb tomorrow morning.
It's unclear what the name of the soldier who ran from Marathon to Athens really was. It might have been "Pheidippides" instead of "Philippides."
I know a fellow who started school named "Clemmer," but who ended up as "Clemer" because his first-grade teacher told him he was spelling his name wrong.
Of course, this was some years ago. That teacher might have thought she knew the difference between "Clemer" and "Clemmer," and she might, in fact, have known the difference between "Pheidippides" and "Philippides." But would she have met the challenge of three "Jennifers" and two "Jasons" in the same room?
The demands of "Jamal," "Keisha," "Chelsea," "Tyronne," "Amber," and "Sean" (also spelled "Shawn" and "Shaun")?
I talked to a friend the other day - the first day of school for her kids - and she was lamenting the need to attend a meeting that same evening. "Everyone else on this committee is old," she said. "The first day of school means nothing to them."
But the minute her kids arrived home, she knew it would be a wild, mad dash for gym suits, backpacks, notebooks, lunchbags - supplies beyond her wildest imaginings. "And we won't have to go to just one place for all this," she said. "It'll be 15 different stops before we're through."
By the time we'd finished our conversation, she had talked herself out of going to her meeting. "They'll just have to understand," she said.
But who really understands what it's like to run a marathon except someone else who's run a marathon? No person who's really done it would ever say, "What's four more miles, more or less?"
I try to remember the first day of school. But it seems exciting to me, now, in memory, and not a trial. The smell of fresh crayons. All those pages of clean, white notebook paper. The satisfying CRACK that resulted from breaking in the backs of new text books.
I did, often, have to remind my teachers not to call me by my first name - "Mary" - and not to confuse "Marty" or "Marnie" with "Monty." But my request (or was it a demand?) was always respected.
What was it like for my mother, who had three children in school? Who not only sent her children off, but who, as a teacher, had to get ready for school herself? Did she feel she was running marathons?
Who knows? At least we never moved to New Zealand.
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times columnist.
LENGTH: Medium: 64 linesby CNB