Regarding Miss Roach, I was also saddened by her passing.
She went to school with my father in Hudson County and I was in the first
class she taught in Bergenfield, which was second grade at Lincoln in 1948.
She only taught this grade one year and then moved to sixth grade.
I can't believe fifty-two years have passed! We thought she was ancient
then! She was an emotional woman and you either loved her or
hated her, However, she was a wonderful teacher and a very caring
person. Obviously, I liked her. Her handwriting was magnificent,
being a student of the Palmer handwriting method taught in her school years,
and she was the finest English teacher I ever had. I learned more
about English grammar in 6th grade than from anyone else during all my
school years. I will always remember her precious green Sunsweet prune
juice jars which had ivy in them on her window sills. During an air
raid drill (remember them?), I pulled the shades down and the cord got
caught around a jar and made it fall and break when we came back to class.
She was furious, but I had the answer. My mother had two of the jars
and she gave me one to
reprinted and edited, by permissionI had not known that Miss Roach had died until reading Bob Hauf's (Class of’59) story. I graduated three years after you, Bob and also fondly remember Mrs. Roach from my sixth grade at Lincoln. I had always felt somewhat inferior, not realizing that my emigration from Germany invariably put me about a paragraph behind every time a reading matter was involved,
let alone learning English! Nevertheless, one day I happened upon a recipe assignment we were instructed to do and to my surprise she absolutely loved it! Indeed, she made a considerable to do about it for about two to three days, each time extolling whatever virtues she was able to find in that single episodic encounter. I felt so good for so long that I still remember it fondly. Several years later, when I had the pleasure of playing for the Senior High BHS basketball game against
Dumont, having an unusually good game, completely having forgotten all about my sixth grade experience, I ran a ball down and summarily chucked it over my head, blindly to a Chuck Richardson who gave his interpretation of a 1962 version of dunking. The crowd went absolutely wild. Game over. We won. After having fallen into the crowd retrieving this errant turned into game winning shot, I looked up..........there was Mrs. Roach, arms folded, crying with pride, staring into my very appreciative eyes with the compassion of saints.
Alex Onofrei, '62