In the summer of '65, I fell in love. Who doesn't at sixteen? But I fell in love with Missouri.
My father transferred from San Diego, California, to Overland's Army Records Center. California was the only home I had ever known. Taking my cue from the media and eager to become an uptown girl. I traded in my surfer shorts and flip flops for plaid skirts and matching sweaters, yearning to emulate the models in Seventeen. I studied the map of St. Louis until I knew the names of the small towns: Clayton, Kirkwood, St. Charles, Webster Grove, University City. All sang a siren song, assuring me a preppy life.
We settled first in Creve Coeur. Off I went to school at Pattonville High School in St. Ann, with interior corridors and a basement and a cafeteria, unheard of in sunny California. This school was as exotic to me as I was to the students there. I was a "California girl" in the surfer years, and my classmates asked me one of two questions: "Do you surf?" and "Do you know any movie stars?" For my part, I had never known anyone named Dixie, and now I felt surrounded by them.
At Pattonville, the best teachers I ever knew inspired me to profess my future vocation. Mr. Bonn introduced me to the wonders of chemistry and the magic of balanced equations. I almost missed roll call on the first day because he kept calling for "Sam." He finally used my full name, Eileen Clemens, but for the rest of the semester, I was Sam (Clemens) to Mr. Bonn and my chemistry class. Mr. Ulrich brought history alive with his stories of Daniel Boone and other icons of history that his anecdotes humanized. His passion for the Mizzou-Kansas football rivalry sparked in me the desire to attend a major university to pursue some highjinks not to mention a major. Mr. Johnson, a comic, a classic, kept us laughing, ostensibly studying Emerson and Thoreau, but drinking far more deeply of a love of learning.
Crisp fall air and bonfires, a teddy bear of a boyfriend, ice skating under the stars in Forest Park. Steak 'n Shake Drive-In. Shopping at Famous-Barr in Clayton so that I too could own a poor-boy sweater with its clingy ribbed top tucked into a not-so-mini-skirt.
In truth, the shopping took a back seat to Clayton in its autumn blaze, with its trees arching over the narrow streets. The city evoked every dream I had spun of the East.
The time came for us to move to Overland, closer to my father's work, and for me to attend Ritenour High. Although I decided to return to California for my senior year, nothing replaced those fresh Missouri fall days in my heart. And now, I have retired from 34 years of teaching English. My husband (Michigan-born) agreed we found our dream house in Galena, MO. There I can be reunited with my first true love.