My Most Embarrassing Moment

To talk about my most embarrassing moment, I need to set a little background. I attended, and graduated from, the smallest school district in Pennsylvania. Up until 1960, our old school buildings didn't have a gymnasium. Hence, no physical education for elementary students. At grade seven, everyone trekked to the community center which had a gym.

The "club" was the center of all activity in our community. All our basketball games, school dances and other school activities took place there. Being in seventh grade and being able to go to the club for gym was something to look forward to.

Our gym teacher, Mr. Hofer, was my idol. Actually, I think he was the idol of most of the school, girls and boys alike. When he spoke, everyone quaked in their boots. He never called us by our first names, just our last names. When he said, "Huston" let me tell you, I paid attention.

Okay, so to the embarrassment. It was winter. We were in the gym at the club playing basketball, which is what we did most every gym class except for the odd day when we would play volleyball. I told you we were the smallest school district, right? But I digress.

In those days, girls basketball was played on half court. The guards for your team and the forwards for the opposing team never crossed the center line. I was a guard. A sportsperson I'm not and no one ever thought of allowing me to shoot for a basket. So, I am wearing my grey corduroy pants and my favorite pink and grey flannel shirt. I'm at the line and my bra strap broke on both ends and fell on the ground.

What do I do? Mr. Hofer is standing with his back to me and didn't see my pain so I just turn around and run toward the basket hoping no one will see it or mention it. When to my deep consternation I hear, from the voice of my idol, "Someone seems to have lost something." With all eyes on me, I walked over to the center line, my face a beautiful scarlet, picked up the offending strap and put it in my pocket.