a good year: memories of sixth grade at tuscarora

roadthere she was just a-walkin’ down the street
singin’ do-wah-diddy-diddy down diddy-do
snappin’ her fingers and shufflin’ her feet
singin’ do-wah diddy-diddy down diddy-do *

The words and melody began timidly enough with just a few brave souls chiming in, then, rose slowly by increments as more and more children boarded the school bus. By the time the yellow caravan concluded its four-mile journey
at the foot of the old schoolhouse’s steep steps, the tune had reached a crescendo ricocheting off the surrounding hilltops and stretching to the far reaches of the hamlet called Tuscarora. Continue reading

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