Hi, it’s me, Sandra Larson. Sandy to most of you. I’ve been wanting to do this website for a long time. I did one for the 50th, but took it down. My goal here is to give all of you another chance to see our pictures and memories of growing up in Bend. I hope this site can be preserved for history, so that the Class of 1959 can live on. I was born and raised in Bend and attended Reid, Kenwood, the old Bend High and the new Bend High School. At the University of Oregon, I studied Art Education, English and French with the goal of being a teacher. I found a job in Santa Maria, California, and taught high school Art, English and French for seven years, then started teaching French and English at Lompoc Valley Middle School. The need arose for someone to teach the H’mong kids English coupled with thinking they might understand French, I was offered the job of teaching English as a Second Language (ESL) which included English, Reading, Social Studies, Math and Science. When I began speaking French to them, I overheard one of the boys say, “She talkin’ Chinee.” Luckily, there were some students who could translate to the others.
After our regular classes, I went with the boys to wood shop to make sure they were safe. I also met their families, sat by their hospital beds, and dressed in their regional costume. After three years, these kids were able to assimilate into regular classes in high school. It was a very rewarding experience.
My son, Craig, is now a paramedic for the City of Pittsburgh, PA. My daughter, Krista, is a Public Information Officer for the State of California in Sacramento and I have seven grandchildren. My oldest stepson lives on a beautiful property in Hannibal, Missouri, and my second stepson is homeless by choice in the forests west of Mt. Hood, Oregon. I live in Sacramento and have time to enjoy many hobbies. My current favorite hobby is paintings from photos of my grandchildren.
& ME ON MY SPRING SHOES
I ordered these spring shoes out of a comic book and anxiously awaited their arrival. The strapped on like the old roller skates. The bottom was two heavy springs. I put them on and this picture was taken. A few minutes later, I bounced over the neighbor’s hedge and started crying. My grandfather rescued me and I never saw the spring shoes again.