Good memories never fade

In this column I'd like to give a shout-out to some of my oldest friends. I hope you find these stories as heartwarming as I do. I hope they make you laugh. I hope they make you smile. And I hope they make you remember.

If I think back to my earliest and longest friends, my head floods with memories. It's not just one person. It's not just my sister simply because she has been there my whole life. It's five other girls who mean the world to me. We are a unique group of girls. We are all very different, yet we share very similar stories.

We grew up differently than our other peers. We are all teachers' kids. In no relation to Charlie Manson, we call ourselves "the Family." Jan, Gina, and Lisa Pendrak, Katie and Lindsay Rice, and of course my sister.

We grew up sitting in the east section of the guest bleachers at football games. We grew up eating macaroni and cheese and riding bikes on teacher workdays. If we weren't in the same building as one of our parents that year, we always had another parent figure watching over us. Sometimes we grew up with our parents as our very own teachers and our very own coaches.

Our best time together was the week before school started. All of our parents had to be at work, so as young kids we would all go to the Pendrak's house for the day. We were robbed of sleeping in late the week before school started. We were forced to wake up at school time an entire week earlier than the other kids in our classes. When I think about these times, I can't believe how clever and humorous we were. We each brought something different to the table to create an incomparable ensemble.

During these days we were convinced that the Pendrak house was haunted. Coach Pendrak probably didn't help the situation when he would casually remind us not to bother the ghost in the basement and then walk out the door. Considering that the majority of our time spent at that house was in that basement, we were terrified.

We loved playing the Ouija board. It wasn't until years later when we were grown and mature that it was revealed that Stacy and Jan had conspired against the rest of us and made everything up. I was shocked to believe this included the Ouija board.

We would always act annoyed when the neighbor boy, Roger Shafer, and his friends, Luke and Taylor Rainey, would come knock on the door and ask us if we wanted to play outside. I always had a secret crush on them.

Perhaps the greatest game we ever played was our version of Rikki Lake. When all our parents were gone we would watch the Rikki Lake show. We loved the juicy details and refused to believe that the show was scripted. After the show we would re-enact the show. Jan was the always calm and collective, nonjudgmental talk show host. The rest of us: dirty little tramps with 10 kids. What were we thinking?

When I think of a way to describe each of us, I always think of a home video from one of my birthday parties. I've seen it about a hundred times. It will never get old. Katie is sitting there at the table being shy, cute and smiling with her big blue eyes. Lindsay was too young to know what was really going on. Jan was the respectful one we all looked up to. I vividly remember Gina playing with a feather in the background in her own little world. Lisa was always outgoing and made us all laugh. I can remember Stacy as always being responsible and in charge. I hope everyone remembers this the same way I do.

It's a fact that all of our mothers and fathers taught in the same school district. It's true that our fathers were all coaches at one point. Coach Pendrak and Coach Rice were blessed with very athletically gifted girls. Not my dad. Stacy and I were the odd ones out. I remember going to Carthage for some youth track event. As Stacy and I have discussed this even later in life, we give our parents props for not telling us what was going on until 10 minutes before the event took place. Turns out we were expected to run! We were running a race! I came in last. The sharp and horrible, horrible pains in my sides had me convinced for a minute that I was actually dying. I had no idea what had just happened. Everyone else's dads were coaching them at the finish line telling them what to do better next time. My dad knew better and knew there wasn't going to be a next time. He just said, "Good job." He knew I wasn't going to be an athlete. Anytime the Rice's or Pendrak's were mentioned in high school and college sports I was so proud. Sincerely. It was my opportunity to brag to everybody around me that I knew them better than anyone else. They were practically my sisters.

We really were a family. For nearly 20 years we spent 4th of July's at the Rice's. The men in the family always performed a fireworks show. Patriotic music would often play in the background the whole night. We would bring in the New Year at our house. I never saw any of our parents drink on New Years Eve. I didn't even know people drank on New Years Eve till I was older.

Everyone looked forward to December. The Pendrak's always held the annual Christmas party. We had drawn names for a gift exchange and we all looked forward to Mrs. Rice's tortilla roll-ups and Mrs. Pendrak's green punch served in Santa mugs. We would go caroling to all the neighbors down the street always ending with "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." We were so nerdy.

Eventually the family grew to include the Watts', including Ryan, Emily, and Lauren, the Hursts, and the Kyles. Although most of us are grown up and in different states and different schools, we are still a family. It's hard to all get together, but I feel that it is needed soon. We will always be sisters. We will always be friends. We will always be teacher's kids. I hope these stories sparked some great memories in all of you reading. Don't let your memories fade.