Miss Fowler

I was afraid of her. She was the principal, and taught grade six. It worried me for five years, that and the strange toilets downstairs. I went to Prince Edward School, just down the street, in an era when the playground had a boys side and a girls side, and we entered two by two through the big doors.

Finally, the September day arrived. Not once was I ever sent to the principal's office, although on one occasion a teacher rapped my knuckles gently with a ruler and broke my little heart. I had worried in vain.  I loved Miss Fowler, from the first day of grade six. She loved to sing, and in her classroom we sang. We learned, too, but what I recall is the singing.

Outside, on the girl's side of the playground, we sang Beatles songs. In Miss Fowler's classroom, we sang old songs. Really old songs. Red River Valley, Old Black Joe, Autumn Leaves, All Through the Night, My Bonnie . . . If you are really old, like me, you probably remember them. 

What made me think of Miss Fowler? Once again, the Supreme Court of Canada is debating the legality of Physician Assisted Suicide. I, a citizen, will have nothing to say on this matter. If you ask my opinion, I do not support this. However, I am not without sympathy, having tucked someone I love in at night as she waited to die and wished for death to come quickly and with dignity. It did, naturally, for her. It doesn't always. 

Miss Fowler, someone told me, took her own life, near the end of a terminal illness. I was so sad when I heard that, many years ago. Sad, that she suffered so; sad, because she was a beloved teacher. At the time, shocked, as well. I was young.

Long, Long Ago

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, long, long ago,

Sing me the songs I delighted to hear, Long, long ago.

. . . Blest as I was when I sat by your side, long, long ago.

~ T H Bayly

I took the photo of Prince Edward School in autumn of 2012. The song book is "The One Hundred and One Best Songs," published by The Cable Company, Chicago, 29th edition, 1917.