Since we moved on May 2, 2009 I am spending my early summer sorting and putting things away.  Putting away my books was pure joy.  But as I examine my personal collection of books and analyze what has survived the weedings and purgings through the years, I am struck by the fact that it appears I have kept the books that inspired me. 

A short list:

• Christy - Catherine Marshall
• Karen- Marie Killilea
• The Story of the Trapp Family Singers- Maria Augusta Trapp
• The Family Nobody Wanted – Helen Doss
• Follow the River – James Alexander Thom (haven’t had this one as long, but somehow ended up with three copies so it must be important!)
• The Hiding Place – Corrie Ten Boom
• Mrs. Mike – Benedict and Nancy Freedman
• The Story of My Life – Helen Keller
• Letters to Karen- Charlie W. Shedd
• Little House series – Laura Ingalls Wilder
• Anne of Green Gables series – L.M. Montgomery
• Little Women (and sequels) – Louisa May Alcott
• Light a Single Candle – Beverly Butler
• A Lantern in her Hand- Bess Streeter Aldrich
• On the Night of the Seventh Moon – Victoria Holt
• Heidi- Johanna Spyri
• Joy in the Morning – Betty Smith

Did these books shape me?  Or did I gravitate to these books because of who I am?

As I think through the common thread of the titles above I see women who were survivors – women who did the right thing in spite of tough circumstances – women with positive, make-the-best-of-it attitudes.  I think I have kept these books because they shaped me.  (I admit, the Victoria Holt title is stupidly romantic, but I adore that book.  I reread it recently and still adore it.)

I’ve owned most of these titles since I was in junior high (or before).  As a librarian for young adults I ask myself what titles are my students going to own and have on their book shelves in 30-35 years?  What is being published today that inspires them, molds them, makes them who they are?  I am a librarian – I have to believe that they are changed by what they read!  Not by everything they read – we all read stuff and move on – but some things will make a difference!

I’ve noticed that a majority of the books in MY list are biography or fictionalized biography.  (OK – not the Holt book.)  I can’t think of anything like them that has been published recently for my students.  So what are they finding in literature to impact their lives?  Will their reading shape their lives?

In my opinion the best of what is out there now tends to be fantasy.  Harry Potter is somewhat inspiring.  Patricia Wrede’s “Dealing with Dragons” has an inspiring heroine.  Wolf Brother, Ranger’s Apprentice…. the positive role models that come to mind are all in fantasy titles.  I can’t help but wonder if that is a reflection of our society?  Do we have REAL role models anymore or must we invent them? 

I’m over-thinking, I’m sure…  but if you read this and can suggest truly inspiring YA titles which you think will survive purgings and weedings on a current student’s personal bookshelves 35 years from now I would love for you to submit the title(s) in the comments section of this post.  Or share titles YOU have kept that impacted you and why.

And now… I’m going outside to take the dog for a long walk so I can lighten up…

Some years I “tell” a few stories.  Somehow this school year flew by and I found myself at the final scheduled storytime for each class.  (I usually stop the weekly stories early in May because of spring bookfairs at two schools and end of the year mahem!)  So I used the last chance to tell rather than read them a story. 

“Mrs. Brandt, where is your book?” many classes asked me as I came into their room. 

“I didn’t bring a book,” was my answer, “but I brought a story.”

I told one of my very favorite stories, and old English folktale “The Three Sillies”.  Steven Kellogg did a picture book of the story, but I much prefer my own version.  The base for my version is rooted in a set of books my mother read aloud when I was young:  “The Family Treasury of Stories” is a three volume set edited by Pauline Rush Evans and published by Doubleday in 1956.  The binding was cheap but I loved those books.  I’m sure I read the stories and poems to myself, also, since I know them all so well.  Early in my library career my mother gave them to me.  (I unpacked them yesterday! – They were in with the Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books!)

But I have told “The Three Sillies” often throughout the years and it is now “my” story.  I have pattern and repetition based on the original, but phrasing and details are my own.  Since it is an old English folktale, I picture old England with cellars, cider, sweethearts, parlors, courting, thatched roofs, villages, and mill ponds.  I throw in minor explainations as I go along to bridge the culture gap, but I work them into the telling.  I also use motions a lot – turning on the tap, running the rope down the chimney, and raking out of the pond.  The universal favorite with the students, however, is the man who runs and tries to jump into his britches.  (Britches – not pants!  Explain the vocabulary if you must, but use the old words and phrases!)  The students truly giggle at the thought of how silly is a stranger who thinks he must jump into his britches.  For the motions there, I use two fingers on one hand as the legs to run and jump, but when the gentleman shows the stranger how he manages getting dressed each morning I actually pantomine putting one leg in at a time, standing up and fastening the britches.  And I end with an unusual phrase – “and if they didn’t live happily ever after, well, then that is another story.” 

I have found that students actually are more attentive to storytelling than to read alouds.  I’m sure there are studies and articles to back up that fact, but I know it to be true by experience.  One of my most enjoyable Master’s classes was Storytelling with Kate McDowell.  (I regret that I missed the opportunity to take the class with Betsy Hearne, but Kate was wonderful!)  Years ago I took a weeklong class in storytelling at Lindenwood in St. Charles, MO with Keith Polette, so I was not new to storytelling.  But I never miss an opportunity to polish the skill…and I don’t practice it nearly enough. So….

…my new school year’s resolution for the fall is less read-aloud, more storytelling!

We are in our new home and now I am the commuter to work instead of my husband and young adult daughter.  The church we attend is also in this community, so it makes sense economically when you consider the cost of gasoline.  But we left a small town Main Street home, built in 1900, which sheltered us for over 17 years.  We did the old girl a lot of favors – stripping six layers of wallpaper from each room, removing false ceilings, adding and updating electricity and plumbing, replacing windows, updating kitchens and baths, and adding a second bathroom and a third floor/attic family room.  We raised two daughters there, and the dear old house was the only home our youngest daughter remembered.  Since we were two blocks from school and our daughters were active members in the marching band our home was a revolving door for their friends.  I poured my heart and a lot of elbow grease into that American FourSquare home.

But change is sometimes good for us.  And we are pleased with the new home which someone else clearly loved, updated, and cared for before us.  59 years newer, out “new” house is the same age as my husband and I so I hesitate to call it an old house.  But my favorite family antiques have each found a spot.  Unfortunately there is still overflow in the garage, but school is almost out and I will get through it all soon.

So as I sit in my “new” little house and return to writing “Read to me…” I find I must first pass along a link a friend forwarded to me.  Roger Sutton, editor of Hornbook, mourns the passing of Eden Ross Lipson and links to an article, “Future Classics”she wrote in 2000 for Hornbook.  In it Lipson addresses the strengths of the books written by Laura Ingalls Wilder.  I particularly value the fourth paragraph, as my friend knew I would, where Lipson so aptly describes the values integral to those narratives. 

I realize the “Little House” books have fallen out of favor in some circles.  Society changes and we view things through new eyes.  But LIW’s books are not meant to remain current.  They are meant to capture the people, places, and events of the author’s childhood.  Recent research for a civil war project brought me to a digitized collection of Civil War Era newspapers.  The site’s disclaimer caught my eye:

“They [the newspapers] are full of fascinating history, but note that the language in these newspapers is often highly offensive, especially when the subjects are African-Americans, Irish immigrants, or women. Please read this language not as statements of fact but in the context of mid-nineteenth-century politics and society.”

Shall we not use and value these primary source documents because they are offensive by today’s standards?  Certainly not.  We use them with understanding, taking value where we can and recognizing the effects of time on attitudes. 

The Little House books have been condemned by some for their views on Native American Indians.  I do not dismiss that concern, but shall we then lose all that is good and fine and valuable in Wilder’s narratives?  Certainly not.  As Lipson said:

“There’s no magic in the Little House books, no invisible railway platform leading to a fantastic place, no wizards at all. It’s a plain account of ordinary lives, that’s just what makes it so thrilling and so engrossing. The Ingalls family’s ordinary lives are so far from our own. The lesson they teach, without comment, is that there is dignity, honor, and pleasure in work well done. They teach it superbly.”

Change is sometimes good for us, but unfortunately our society has lost site of “dignity, honor, and pleasure in work well done”.  Ask any public school teacher. 

So I would like to add a hearty “second” to Lipson’s views on the books by Laura Ingalls Wilder and I shall continue to recommend them as read alouds to teachers and to students.  We must use the “Little House” books with understanding, taking from them the wonderful values and recognizing the effects of time on attitudes.  For if we don’t we lose so much…

Mr. Sutton and Eden Ross Lipton, thank you.  I believe I shall reread those books yet again.  You can just glimpse my childhood copies behind the statue in the banner on this page.  Now if I could just find the box my copies of “Little House” are still packed in from the move…

This title is another that I distinctly remember Captain Kangaroo reading aloud on TV.  Published in 1958 (a year older than myself!), this was one of my childhood favorites.  With pictures by Maurice Sendak and words by Sesyle Joslin, this picture book still holds great appeal to kids. 

The joy in reading this book aloud is to allow the students to predict what polite response is required to the quirky situations:

You are picking dandelions and columbines
outside the castle. Suddenly a fierce dragon
appears and blows red smoke at you, but just
then a brave knight gallops up and cuts off
the dragon’s head.

What do you say, dear?

Of course… you say “Thank you very much!”  If the students responded with just “thank you” I encouraged them to think… The brave knight just saved your life!  Is a simple thank you, enough? 

It is important to find ways to validate each student’s response.  Students need to feel safe offering their guess of “What do you say, dear?”  If you simply tell them they are wrong or, worse, laugh at a response it becomes a negative experience.  I treat the answers more like brainstorming… saying something positive about their response, but guiding them all toward a better/best/correct response.  It is often necessary to remind them that we are searching for the polite response.  For many I told them their response would be a very direct approach, but we wanted a polite phrase.  How could they rephrase that very politely?

I shared this book just before Easter break.  Our school serves a fairly homogeneous cornfield community, so it was comfortable to encourage the kids to think about polite behavior at the upcoming Easter dinners most of them would attend with extended family.  Instead of “I want more potatoes” or even, “I want more potatoes, please” this book allowed me to encourage them to say “would you please pass the potatoes”.  And to ask “may I please be excused” when finished. 

This is the beauty of books and read-aloud.  A chance to talk about something with kids in a way that is both meaningful and fun.

A word of caution – a couple of the situations in the book no longer seem politically correct.  (The bad guy has a gun to your head and wants to shoot you.  What do you say, dear?  You say, “No, thank you.” of course.)  But while not politically correct in our overanxious era, the kids don’t mind.  They find the whole thing hilarious.  Adults over-think – kids enjoy.  I heartily recommend this classic book.

So… what do you say, dear?

Just like Cal did not understand his sister Lark’s fascination with books, my father did not understand how I could spend a whole day with my “nose in a book.”  A farmer, he would come in for lunch during the summer and demand that I get outside and do something.  I usually complied by taking my book outside and reading on the porch swing or on the hill in the yard under the walnut tree.  (Not exactly what he had in mind!)

I shared this story with my students after we read Henson’s That Book Woman together.  As I explained to them, my father certainly could read.  He was a college graduate.  But he didn’t LIKE to read, certainly not for entertainment.  And my (and my mother’s) love of books and reading was pure puzzlement.

My mom and I were both fans of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.  Beginning in fourth grade, I read the entire series 12 times during my school years.  A 1975 trip to South Dakota included, of course, a stop in DeSmet.  My father and brother were not as excited about the visit as mom and I, but we stopped!  In the year’s since my mother and I have visited almost all of the Little House sites together and separately.  It was during a trip to Wisconsin (and a visit to Little House in the Big Woods) that my father insisted on knowing what was the fascination with these books.  “Why don’t you read one,” my mother said.  A wise woman, my mother… she gave him “Farmer Boy” first.

Grandpa got his first tractor when Dad was nine, but Dad remembers farming with mules and horses.  Naturally he loved “Farmer Boy”.  It was a time consuming read for him, but when he finished he said, “Give me the next one.”  He eventually read all nine in the series and then told my mother to “find me something else to read.”

Now you must realize that Sunday afternoons at our house did not include sports on TV.  Oh, no!  My father watched Western movies on Sunday afternoons.  A wise woman, my mother… she filled my father’s request for something-else-to-read with Zane Grey… which of course, was followed by Louis Lamour.  At the age of 54 my father had become a reader!  He was always literate – but he wasn’t a reader until then.

Dad’s reading for pleasure fizzled for a while, but when I sent him Richard Peck’s Long Way from Chicago his reading was renewed.  Peck’s recent books have been marketed to his usual Young Adult audience, but they aren’t really appreciated by that audience.  Adults – especially his contemporaries – absolutely love all of Peck’s books since Grandma Dowdel first picked up her shotgun.  When Dad finished reading Fair Weather he called me to talk about the book.  “Best Peck book ever,” Dad declared.  Growing up I never expected to have a conversation with my Dad about literature, but here it was!

Dad was 73 on March 18th.  These pages honored him that day as I reviewed Schmidt’s First Boy. My parents are retired now and spend several months each year serving with RVICS.  As they travel they purchase books about places they visit and they both read in the evenings now.  My Dad was once a literate non-reader.  Now he reads.

I know parents are often proud of their kids.  Well, I am proud of my parents – the way they serve others rather than themselves with their retirement, the sensible way they are handling aging, and the way they have always lovingly supported my brother and I and our families.  But I can’t tell you how proud I was to share with my students that my Dad, although a late bloomer, finally became a book lover.  I didn’t share all of the details above with my students, but I turned it into a story for them.  If Cal in That Book Woman didn’t inspire them, I hope the personal narrative about my father did!

Five Chinese brothers (who look exactly alike) manage to fool the executioner by using the extraordinary abilities of each.  The Five Chinese Brothers by Claire Huchet Bishop (1938) has a tall tale quality blended with wonderful pattern.  And without being didactic, it has volumes to say about guilt and responsibility. 

To counteract the potentially stereotypical illustrations by Kurt Wiese, I use the first illustration of the brothers to point out that this is a story set a long time ago.  I explain that, just as we ladies in America no longer wear long dresses and bonnets, Chinese men no longer wear robes and pigtails.  (My intention is not to discuss stereotypes with the students, just to avoid them!) 

Students easily accept the fantastic abilities of the five brothers.  With second and third graders I compared them to The Fantastic Four.  There is some vocabulary that should be discussed in context while reading this book aloud:

• indefinitely
• promptly
• smother
• innocent

With the younger students I supply the definitions; with the older students I use questioning to help them discover a definition.  A good technique is to use the word in another sentence, such as, “babies shouldn’t sleep with a pillow because it could cover their face and mouth and, unable to turn over alone, they would smother.”

When we finish the book I ask the students whether the first Chinese brother truly was guilty of the little boy’s death.  “Was it his fault the little boy drowned?” I ask them.  Not all students automatically view the boy’s death as his own fault, so we discuss it. 

• Was the boy clearly told what to do? (Yes, not once but twice!)
• Did the boy understand?  (Twice he said, ‘yes, yes’)
• How many times was the boy told to come back?  (Three – which he deliberately ignored and then flaunted.)
• How hard did the Chinese brother try to hold back the sea? 
• Was there anything else the Chinese brother could have done?

This book allows great discussion about blaming others rather than taking responsibility for our own choices. (This is a growing problem throughout our society, I believe.)  It is rare that I follow a book with such a serious discussion, but with increasing emphasis on social and emotional learning and making wise choices this makes a perfect opportunity.  

However, I’m certain this book was not one of my childhood favorites because of lessons in accountibility.  The appeal is in the clever way the brothers use their abilities, working together to set the innocent first brother free.    Justice is served and that IS a happy ending! 

I continue to be amazed at the copyright date on so many of my childhood favorite titles.  Millions of Cats by Wanda Gag was first published in 1928.  I have been comparing copyright dates to my father’s age for the students, but this one I had to tell them my grandparents weren’t married or even dating yet!  As evidence that primary students do not have the concepts like time and logic mastered, one of them said, “But how old was your Dad?”  I had to kindly say, “Think for a minute.  If my grandparents hadn’t met yet, could my dad be born?”  Oops.

All of my life I have used this book when I needed to remember the order of huge numbers.  I keep millions and billions and trillions in the proper order by chanting, “Cats here, cats there; cats and kittens everywhere; hundreds of cats, thousands of cats; millions and billions and trillions of cats.” 

Before we started the story, I shared this with the students and wrote on the board:

• 100
• 1,000
• 1,000,000 M
• 1,000,000,000 B
• 1,000,000,000,000 T

The initials after the number help the students remember which is which.  And I invite them to chant those words with me each time we reach them in the narrative.  Many of them (my visual learners) would turn to view the board while they chanted.

The students love the predictability of the book.  “He’s going to pick all of the cats, isn’t he?”  They love the tall tale elements, too.  (Sipping away an entire pond, fighting until they have eaten each other up)  And, again, they love the happy ending with the (formerly homely) most beautiful cat in the world.

I pause only once in this narrative, and that is at the page turn as the quarreling begins.  I ask the students if they have ever heard a cat fight and I imitate that horrible sound.  (Why IS it always outside MY bedroom window in the dead of night?)  Many of the students plug their ears with glee as I screech.  Without further elaboration, we turn the page as the little old woman and the little old man run inside to escape the quarreling.

Millions of Cats does not take long to read – possibly 10 minutes.  I have found it successful to pair read alouds with “true” personal stories, and this was the perfect opportunity.  My story began by sharing how, when I was in 1st grade, I was allowed to get a calico kitten whom I named Whiskers.  I add many details to this oral narrative and used my father’s old farm attitude – “animals belong OUTSIDE” as the theme which tied the narrative together.  The end involved my father and Whisker’s competition over who would sit in the lawn chair.  The chair stayed by our back door so my father could take off his barn boots.  As Whiskers aged she loved that chair, and my father’s methods to remove her were initially unceremonious, but grew more gentle as the years passed.  I came home from college, finally, to find two lawn chairs at the back door; one for Dad and one for her!  Whiskers lived a very long life as an outdoor farm cat, dying peacefully of old age during my first year of teaching.

Leave time for the students to share their cat stories, or encourage them to share their stories with one another at recess or in creative writing, for there will be stories!  Stories beget stories… and primary students will have a million with this topic.  There will be hundreds of cat stories, thousands of cat stories, millions and billions and trillions….

Another from among the top-ten-from-my-childhood-favorites is The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf, with drawings by Robert Lawson (Viking, 1936).  I must confess, the memory of Ferdinand is influenced by multi-media.  Walt Disney adapted the story as a short animated film entitled Ferdinand the Bull in 1938, winning that year’s Academy Award for Best Short Subject (Cartoons).  I think I remember this as well as I remember the book.

Ferdinand was a story that I wanted to read straight through; I only broke the narrative twice while reading aloud.  In an effort to expand the students’ horizons, stimulate their curiosity, and sneak in a few basics of Information Literacy we discussed cork trees and bullfighting before starting the story.

I showed the students a coaster made from cork, asking them if they could identify the material.  Most couldn’t identify cork until I brought out a bottle stopper cork.  (It is a cork and is made of cork.)  I set up a rationale for learning about cork by saying the illustrator had some humor in the book, but unless you were educated about cork you couldn’t appreciate it.  Then I began sharing facts about cork:

• comes from the bark of a Cork Oak tree
• Some grow in the US, but mostly in Spain & Portugal and other Mediterranean countries.
• Cannot harvest until tree is 20-25 years old
• Renewable resource – can harvest again in 8-10 years
• Cork Oak trees can live as much as 150 years
• Shared pictures printed from Internet of a tree, closeup of trunk, and stacks of harvested cork.  (Do a Google image search on Cork Oak Tree.)

I then shifted discussion to how I knew these facts.  I had a C volume encyclopedia in my hand and told each class how I love to look things up to learn more about something.  I shared how my family’s dinner discussions often meant we brought an encyclopedia to the table.  At this point we also discussed how Internet can be a good source of information, too, if you don’t have a print encyclopedia.  Through questioning, the students and I discussed how Internet information is not necessarily written by credible sources like a print encyclopedia.  I stressed the importance of good authority when using information on-line.  (K-3 students aren’t ready to learn about databases vs Google, but this is laying groundwork!)

Then we talked about bullfighting.  These K-3 students were not familiar with the term Matador, but the red cape and routine were very familiar from cartoons.  Facts shared:

• Bull fighting is very popular in Spain, Portugal, Mexico and some South American countries
• Many stadiums in those places just for bull fighting.  Largest is in Mexico City – 55,000 seats.
• The sport is illegal in some countries, including ours because it is seen as extreme cruelty to the animal.
• Bulls are bred to be big and fierce, and fight wildly.
• Discussion on cruelty to animals included my caution that they should never do something deliberately to hurt or upset an animal such as teasing a dog behind a fence. 
• While Bullfighting might not be a good thing, Ferdinand IS a good story anyway!

At this point I began reading the story.  (Hint:  whenever Ferdinand sits quietly and smells the flowers, pause and take a deep sniff as if you are breathing in a wonderful fragrance.  The students will soon be quietly doing it with you.)  I only broke the narrative at the page which illustrates the cork tree with corks hanging from it in bunches like grapes.  After reading that page I asked the students to take a close look and, now that they know the real facts about cork, could they see where the illustrator was being funny?  Without the preparation they would have been clueless, but the students loved being an insider on this humor.  “See what educating yourself can do for you?”

I only paused one more time, briefly, after the entrance of the Banderilleros (who stick the bull with pins to make him mad) and the Picadores (who stick the bull with spears to make him madder).  At this point I made a quick editorial comment, “See, I told you bullfighting wasn’t very nice to the bull.”

There are all sorts of pacifist possibilities with Ferdinand, but while I will preach about renewable resources and not teasing the neighbor’s dog (or any animal) I prefer not to get overly political with K-3.  With a few classes, however, I did say I thought there was a playground lesson in the book.  I turned to the page where Ferdinand wouldn’t fight and the Matador ended up crying.  The point I stressed with the students was that it took two to make a fight.  Sitting quietly might mean a problem will fizzle out and go away. 

As with all of these oldie-but-goodies titles I’ve been reading aloud recently, the students responded warmly to The Story of Ferdinand.  I still love the phrase, “he still liked to sit just quietly under the cork tree and smell the flowers.”  Be careful to read it as written.  The ‘just quietly’ is unique.  And as for smelling flowers, perhaps Mac Davis was inspired by Ferdinand!?

Link to Lesson Plans and Activities 

Among the top-ten-from-my-childhood-favorites is another book by Virginia Lee Burton, Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel.  Published in 1939, Mike is older than The Little House (1942).   I reviewed title page and copyright date on the verso with the students.  (With Easter break between  the readings of Little House and Mike most classes needed the review!) 

I prefaced the reading of the book by discussing how steam engines were the first great power machines and how they were replaced with gas, electric and diesel motors.  Again, I do not supply this information, but lead students to it with questions.  “Do we run our cars with steam today?  No.  What do we use?” 

I also pulled down a map or a globe in each class and used them to provide background on canals.  Showing them what a long and dangerous trip it once was to round the tip of South Africa or South America led to the idea of major canals.  I explained canals as a shortcut for big ships.  Again, I let questioning lead the discussion.  Students easily picked the isthmus of Panama on the map as a logical place for a canal.  I emphasized proportions and reminded them that, although the map looks tiny, it represents the whole world; the canal was a pretty big job to dig.  We looked at the Panama and Suez canals, and then I mentioned the world had many smaller canals such as the nearby Illinois and Michigan canal.

With the groundwork laid we began reading.  The book begins with Mike and the steam shovel’s career highlights:  digging the great canals, cutting through the mountains for the railroads, lowering hills and straightening curves for the highways, and smoothing out the ground for airfields.  One first grader raised his hand at this point in the book, commenting, “they’re really wrecking a lot of nature, aren’t they?”   A modern child’s take on the old classic! 

The students responded positively to this old title, just as they did with Ducklings and Little House.  The older elements of the book like the constable, telegraph boy, and milkman date the book but do not detract.  And human nature is timeless - Henry B. Swap’s ‘rather mean smile’, the school children being distracted from their lessons by the fire truck, and everyone in town thinking their idea is the best.  The students readily noticed correlations with The Little House in the artwork, such as the sun and the personification of the steam shovel.  They also insisted they saw the Little House in this earlier title’s pictures.  

A running joke in the book is that Mike claims Mary Anne can dig as much in a day as 100 men can dig in a week, although he isn’t actually sure that is true.  It was a first grader in another class who broke into the story and said, “Why doesn’t he just try!”  “Maybe he will,” I said.  We turned the page, and sure enough Mike and Mary Anne began trying to dig that cellar in one day.  The readers/listeners want Mike and Mary Anne to succeed.  Several of the classes actually clapped at the end!

I’m left wondering, is it the happy endings in these old books that illicit this response? 

When I was young, so was television.  The were only two or three channels and there weren’t many shows for children.  I remember Romper Room and Corky the Clown (St. Louis TV!), but mostly I remember Captain Kangaroo and his Treasure House.  Mr. Moose and ping pong balls, Bunny Rabbit and bunches of carrots out of the Captain’s pocket, Dancing Bear, Grandfather Clock, the Magic Drawing Board, and Mr. Green Jeans were there for me every weekday morning.  I remember many things about the show, but mostly I remember the Captain reading to me.  There was no animation,  just the Captain’s voice bringing the book to life as the camera focused on the pages of the book.  Many of my childhood favorite books I connect to the Captain.  Apparently I’m not alone in connecting books to the Captain;  there is an Amazon Listmania for books Captain Kangaroo read in the 50s.

A tornado barely missed our house one night when I was four.  It knocked down huge old trees in the yard and with them, the TV antenna.  I remember sobbing, for in my four year old wisdom, the greatest tragedy that morning was no Captain Kangaroo!  Not many weeks later I recall watching the adults around me sob but not for the Captain; Captain Kangaroo was off the air for the three days of funeral coverage for President Kennedy.

I had outgrown the Captain by the time they began filming in color in 1969.  And the Captain was off the air by the time my children were born.   But I swear I am a lover of books thanks to my mother (of course) and the Captain.