The Horrid Bitch

I started school when I was 5, not because I was  very smart, which turned out to be true, but because back then if you turned 6 by December, you were old enough for First Grade.  My teacher was Mrs. Warner, and I will admit to being a bit trying.  My teacher was Mrs. Miller and she was a horrid  bitch. 
My Mom called the school to find out when the first day of classes was because my parents (and I) were going on vacation.   That day turned out to be wrong, classes actually started the day before, while we were on the road back from Virginia.  On the first day of class Mrs. Miller had handed out little aluminum pie tins to everyone in the class and they had started to decorate them.  On my first day in 2nd grade, (their 2nd day) Mrs. Miller told me, in front of everybody, that because I had missed the first day, I had no pie tin and would have to sit by myself while the rest of the class finished their decorations.  This is how you hurt a 6 year old child.  Oh, and this is not the only reason she's a horrid bitch.
Mrs. Miller harangued me constantly, nit-picking apart my every action. 
She tied me in my chair with twine because she said I stood up too much.  She untied me after the last bell of the day had rung, and after the rest of the kids had left the classroom, forcing me to run so I wouldn't miss my bus home.  And I was... 7 by then. 
On Valentines day we all decorated shoe boxes and made valentines for the rest of the kids in the class.  I can remember the excitement as we all went around the classroom depositing cards into each others boxes.  This was a fun time, you know?  And the next day, while everyone else was pulling the lids off of their boxes and dumping their cards on their desks, I opened mine and.... it was empty.  This is how you humiliate a 7 year old child.
Mrs. Miller had a son who played the violin.  She thought it would be great for him to play for us... well, not all of us.  She chose everyone whom she deemed worthy, everyone except myself and two others.  They went to a different classroom, we stayed alone, with one of the school secretaries as a monitor to make sure we didn't talk.
I spent a little time trying to look up information on the horrid bitch.  She was married to J. Herbert Miller, a man with a Master Degree in Sacred Theology.  She lived on Areba Street in Hershey, back then that area was... nice, not rich, but nice.  In 1962 she was one of 2 teachers subpoenaed when the ACLU filed a lawsuit against the Cornwall-Lebanon School District over forced prayer in public schools. 
If I wanted, I could have, perhaps found out what her first name was... but that would have meant using up my time, wasting my time on a terrible person who is better off known as the horrid bitch.