I was seven years old, I was just beginning to learn how to live as a dyslexic child, I was becoming a great researcher and had just been informed by the school principal that I was to be moved to Harmony Elementary’s upper level to join a class of six graders.

My seat was to be on the back row and only three feet from the library door. I had been given a typewriter but it was noisy for classroom use. When my scribbles cried out for assistance I simply raised my hand and with a nod from Mrs Stuart I reached for the library doorknob and entered that part of my world that was to become my playground. My last name “Broom” was thoughtfully over looked’

On this particular day Mrs. Stuart began by drawing the class’ attention to “our new member; his name is Lee”.

By noon I was “Little Lee”.

“Don’t ask me-ask Little Lee” drew lots of titters and by 3:PM an occasional note of respect by a group of respecters whose grades were in the upper level…To them I was Mister Lee.

On June 12, 2019 I expect to celebrate my eightieth birthday.               I wonder what I will be called then.




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