Bolts from the Blue

A couple of memories, both triggered by a Damascus Road event at AMBS.

1. 7th grade. Mr. Cataldo's (EDIT: My sister reminds me that he was Mr. Capaldo.) Social Studies class. Someone did something they shouldn't have done (sorry, details escape me). Mr. Cataldo threatened the entire class with detention unless the culprit came forward. No one volunteered. So I approached him and said I'd stay for detention so that others could go home, even though I'd done nothing wrong. He told me that wasn't the point. I wondered what the point was.

2. Probably around 7th grade, possibly a bit earlier. From time to time my family would go to town to watch the MPHS Panthers play boys basketball. Among the players on the team was Paul Tinder, the only black person I knew of in Mt. Pleasant. I'm pretty sure he wasn't the best on the team, but I could hardly wait for him to get in the game. Maybe I could relate to the rec specs.