That little song by the Statler Brothers has been going through my head lately. If I had graduated from high school it would have been in that year – 1957.

Can’t recall what provincial government was in power in those days, but most BC rural schools only went to Grade 10. To get your Grades 11 and 12, you needed to reside in special dormitories that were set up in the larger towns.

For me that larger town was Williams Lake, 100 miles from familiar territory which was Forest Grove. I lasted for one week. I was directionally impaired and in that big school I was lost almost every change of class. All the rooms looked alike to me.

That same summer I had worked as a Nurses Aid at the hospital. In those days they hired sixteen year olds and I had enjoyed the job. I thought I could put my white uniform and perky hat back on and continue working there.

Who needed school when I could earn money.

But no, the hospital was fully staffed. I put in a few shifts serving meals at the Lakeview Hotel Restaurant, but I was from the sticks; raised on farm beef and moosemeat. I knew nothing about the fancy cuts of pork and beef. When the exasperated cook began screaming at me, there went my career as a waitress.

To make a long story short, I completed Grade 11 by High School Correspondence before marrying my boyfriend in 1955. When 1957 rolled around I was expecting my first child.