When I attended the one-room schoolhouse known as Little Red Schoolhouse, a memory stands out. I discovered I really loved music in that small room. .Mr. Burnett came once a week to teach us the scale and how to use it. The best part of the class was when we all joined in to sing the song he had taught us that day. I loved to sing with my elbows on the desk and my chin in my hands. One day my fingers slid over and pressed my ears closed.
Miraculously I discovered I could hear no one else, only me, singing. I closed my eyes, pressed my ears tightly shut and sang away with the class. Or so I thought. I suddenly felt a tap on the head. My eyes flew open to match my mouth. There was Mr. Burnett standing beside me and all my classmates turned in their seats looking at me and laughing.
“Enjoy your singing better than ours, Jean?” the music teacher asked, laughing, too.
Everyone thought it was so funny. Everyone, that is, but me!
Jean Carpenter Welborn
Tucson, Arizona
Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.
