Her name was Ann Lavigne, my best friend in fifth grade. We attended St. Monica's Catholic Elementary School in New Orleans, Louisiana. Both of us were shy, introverted nerds and skinny as reeds. I don't remember exactly when or how we became friends. I think our friendship started in class because we both excelled in all of our subjects. I think the commonality of being nerds made us bond to become close friends.
Looking back, I was a gifted child but didn't know it. I got straight A's in every subject without breaking a sweat. I always got straight As and was at the top of the honor roll for fifth graders. Ann was also on the honor roll, but she was never jealous that I had the top spot.
English and literature were our favorite subjects. Our teacher was a nun who held reading classes every afternoon. Ann and I always looked forward to listening to the nun read chapters from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, and other classic stories.
St. Monica was a Catholic elementary school in a predominantly Black neighborhood. The head of the school was Father Evanstock. His staff consisted of two additional priests. Mother John Vianni was in charge of the nuns who taught all the classes except for one or two civilian teachers who came in occasionally to teach art.
Like a few others, Ann stood out because her fair features made her look like a white girl. She seemed out of place because of her pale skin and thin, curly blond hair that fell to her shoulders. Her blue eyes and prominent teeth with a gap between her two front ones emphasized her distinctive look. When she smiled, which wasn't often, she tried to hide her noticeable gap. When I made her laugh, I noticed that Ann always covered her mouth with one of her hands. By doing that, she made me realize that she was self-conscious about her teeth. But no one treated Ann differently because of the way she looked. The pop singer Taylor Swift reminds me so much of her.
I remember other students with unmistakable features. Two friends of mine in this category were Thomas Fonerette and Georgia Foster. Thomas had a face full of freckles and red hair with an unruly cowlick on the top of his head. He reminded me of Alfalfa from The Little Rascals. Georgia had gray eyes, very pale skin, and frizzy straw blond hair that she wore in a bun at the back of her head. Both were in my homeroom class.
Ann had a cute quirkiness about her. She spoke softly and wore cat-eye glasses with pale yellow rims. I thought she looked so cool when she wore them. Our school uniforms consisted of navy blue jumpers or navy pleated skirts, white blouses, and black and white Oxford saddle shoes. In her uniform, Ann was the perfect example of an everyday 1950s Southern schoolgirl.
Ann was kind, quiet, and thoughtful. At her young age, she had dainty ladylike qualities. We attended catechism lessons together. We had our first communion and confirmation at the same time. We were both devout Catholics and we always carried our rosary beads in our school bags or purses. It was a great comfort for me to have her as my best friend.
I remember the day our Catholic school had a dance scheduled for the fifth and sixth graders. At that time, our school didn't have a recreation hall for such events. So the nuns prepared one of the larger classrooms for the dance. They removed all the students' desks and the nun's desk and used that empty room in which to hold the dance.
I remember talking with Ann about how excited I was about the dance. She was excited as much as I was. We talked about how we would dress for that night. I had no idea what I would wear, but Ann told me she wanted to show off one of her favorite outfits, a pink lace dress with a wide belt tied in a bow in the back. I told Ann that I would talk more with her at the dance later that evening.
A week before it was scheduled, I had told my parents that the dance would be held at school on Friday from 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm. That Friday, after I got home from school, I started to pick out an outfit to wear. When my dad got home from work, he was kinda grumpy and wasn't enthusiastic about me attending the dance. For some reason my father did not want me to go. I did not understand why he wanted to take away my chance to go to the dance and enjoy time with my best friend.
I remember having an eerie feeling. Something I could not shake off weighed heavily on my mind. I had to be at the dance. I missed the last one and had no regrets. But this time was different. The sense of urgency to be there was too strong for me to ignore. I knew I could not miss being at the dance with my friend Ann.
When my dad said I couldn't go to the dance, I started to cry. I begged my mother to talk to him. She felt sorry for me and how much I was hurting. I don't think my mother had ever seen me cry like that before. After seeing how distraught I was, my mother talked to my father to get him to change his mind. He relented and decided to let me go. I was so happy. My dad said he would drive me there and pick me up at a certain time. I quickly got dressed and made sure I had my powder compact, a small mirror and my favorite mauve lipstick, which Ann loved.
After I was ready, my dad walked me to the front door. I ran to our car, which was parked outside. I remember sitting in the passenger seat next to my dad and feeling so safe, even though cars had no seat belts back then. The school was a short ride away, only two blocks from our house. When we got there, my father told me to have fun and that he would pick me up at 8:00 pm.
I became ecstatic when I saw the bright lights shining from the windows of the classroom. As I approached the building, I heard one of my favorite R&B tunes in the air. I ran up the steps to the double doors of the large classroom. As I entered the room, I saw a few kids doing the latest dance in the middle of the room. A few eagle-eyed nuns stood watch in different areas of the room. I looked around for Ann. Then, I saw her sitting alone on a chair in the corner, looking sad. As I approached her, I waved to get her attention. Her face brightened up, and she smiled when she saw me. As I expected, she covered her mouth with one hand to hide her smile, but we were both so happy to see each other.
I remember Ann asking me if I had any lipstick. I told her I had a tube of the mauve lipstick that she liked. She smiled when I gave her my mirror and the gold case of mauve lipstick, which she used to perk up her lips.
I remember we had so much fun, even when we weren't dancing. We were completely carefree, giggling and whispering silly things to each other, as schoolgirls of that age usually did. But both of us danced several times with some boys from our class.
As the time approached for my dad to pick me up, I told Ann I had to go. She became disappointed that I was leaving before she was, but she understood. She told me her brother was going to pick her up a little later. We hugged and said our goodbyes. I told her not to have too much fun without me.
I went outside to wait for my dad. When he showed up, I ran to the car. After opening the door, I got into the front seat. I told my dad how much fun I had. He laughed and said he was glad I enjoyed myself.
When I got home, I felt relieved that my mom had convinced my dad to let me attend the dance. As for my friend Ann, I thought about her being alone after I left the dance. But I looked forward to seeing her in class on Monday, so we could compare notes about the music and who was there.
Monday morning came. I was sitting at my desk in my homeroom, but I didn't see Ann at her desk. I thought that was strange because she had never been late or absent from school. She had never been sick or anything like that.
Before roll call and the start of our lessons, the principal came into our class to make an urgent announcement. She had a somber look on her face, so I knew it had to be bad news. The principal told us that a tragic accident happened on Friday night after the school dance. She said that one of our students had been killed. I thought nothing of it until the principal told the class who had been killed. The principal said, "One of our students, Ann Lavigne, was killed in a head-on collision." She added, "When the police and paramedics arrived at the accident scene, they found Ann crushed and slumped over in the back seat of the car. Her brother had been driving, but he survived. They said Ann was clutching her rosary beads in her hands when she died." I was devastated. Back then, there were no grief counselors for me to process me losing my friend. I didn't know how, but I had to deal with it on my own.
I was devastated. I couldn't believe that my best friend was dead. I didn't even tell my parents. But that is when I realized and understand why I felt so strongly about going to the school dance. God allowed me to say goodbye to my best friend.
The next day, I walked into class and looked over at the desk where Ann always sat. Sadness overwhelmed me. There was nothing I could do to bring her back. So I put my head down on my desk, took out my rosary, and cried for my best friend.