Ivan Browning, Old Valentines, Women in My Life and Where is Bosnia?

A few years ago, I was driving by the San Marco (formerly  known as Southside) Public Library on Hendricks Avenue with my friend Viviane Weil. I began to tell her a story about my 6th grade teacher at Englewood Elementary named Mrs. Jacobson and all the time I had spent at that library alone in the evening looking for things to write about for an on-going report I was expected to do on Yugoslavia. Lucky for me, it was just Yugoslavia back then. There is quite a bit more involved now since it became  Croatio, Serbia, Montenegro, Kosovo, Slovenia, Bosnia, Herzegovina and Macedonia. As our current president might say, "Not many people know that..."  I for one have always wondered why I missed learning about these countries in my high school geography class in 1966. Now I know.

I am still embarrassed to say, I didn’t give my 6th Grade project my all and spent much of my library time looking at Life Magazine, American Girl and National Geographic. I also spent much of that time thinking about a boy named Ivan Browning.  Upon turning in my report at the end of the school year I failed to provide the teacher with any of the newspaper clippings that I was supposed to be collecting about my country. I wasn’t in the habit of reading the Times-Union back in those days and unbeknown  to me, all kinds of things were happening in Yugoslavia in the early 60’s. I’m talking earthquakes, alignment with the Soviets and Tito, the dictator, were always in the news. As you might suspect, Mrs. Jacobson HAD been reading the Times Union and after telling her I couldn’t find one single article about Yugoslavia in the newspaper, she emptied out an envelope on her desk with dozens of clippings pertaining to Yugoslavia that I just happened to miss while not reading the paper. If Ann Landers or Dear Abby didn’t print it, I didn’t know it. Little did I know that within about twenty minutes after talking to Viviane about Ivan Browning and Yugoslavia, I would again be able to relive the most horrifying moment of 6th grade with the very same 6th grade teacher, Sheila Jacobson.

I attended Englewood Elementary School for half a year after moving back to Jacksonville from Gainesville. My father had rented a house on Welaka Road just off of Emerson until he could get us back to the Lakewood-San Jose area. I included in my reminiscing  to Viviane a lengthy narrative about my old neighborhood and this really tall, good looking kid named Ivan Browning. Looking back now, my 6th grade mind was actually thinking Ivan and I would surely get married. I even met a 6th grade girl in another class who also had a crush on him. Nell  told me in no uncertain terms that he was hers and to forget about him. Sixth grade girls back then had only two things to worry about….exactly what was Kotex used for and who would I be getting a Valentine from on February 14th in the Valentine shoe box I had decorated meticulously in “Art” for this extra special day at school. Keep in mind that in 1960  Kotex was pretty much IT as far as feminine hygiene went. It was a taboo topic, NEVER advertised on TV or radio and hidden high up on the tippy-top shelf at the A&P. 

Viviane and I had just left the American Cancer Society office where I had taken her to work on the Cancer Society Fashion Show scheduled to be held at Belk’s Department Store that year. Viviane wasn’t driving anymore and I was more than happy to get her out of the house to attend the meetings she missed so very much. As the former Fashion Coordinator for Jacobson's Department Store, fashion was  Viviane’s middle name. As we approached Lakewood, I asked Viviane if she would like to stop by the yarn shop before heading home. I knew Viviane hadn’t been there in awhile, so left we turned.

By the time Viviane and I finished looking over the yarn and knitting patterns, the shop has become filled with customers and a particular customer was at the register picking up a piece of needlework she had left at the shop for framing. I overheard her giving the clerk her name and I swear, standing within five feet of me was my 6th grade teacher who I had been talking about in great detail not twenty minutes earlier.

I HAD to speak to her and after introducing myself, Sheila Jacobson apologized for not remembering me. I related my mortifying newspaper clipping story to her about Yugoslavia and the newspaper clippings she had saved just for me. After we determined what year I was in her class (me using a calculator), she told me that she remembered only one kid from that class and that kid was Ivan Browning. I began to laugh.

Mrs. Jacobson had retired from teaching many years earlier and asked me what my life’s work had been. She said that my chosen career was a great choice and she was pleased. Her parting words to me were wonderful. With a singing tone she said, “’I’ll bet you can read, too!

As for Ivan Browning, I never saw him again, but found out that he is a Facebook friend of a friend and looks a lot different after fifty years. He is still very tall. The other 6th grade girl competing for his attention was dear Nell. She is still a friend mine and we continue to keep in touch. If it weren't for Ivan, I probably wouldn't still be friends with Nell.

I don't know how these situations happen to me. I'm am consistently amazed at my mind that can remember that decorated Valentine shoebox from the 6th grade and with the same mind (well, almost) walk into a room and in a split second forget why. I really don't like getting old.