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Created on: April 23, 2008 Last Updated: April 29, 2008
March 16, 1965 was the date. I know that for a fact. A conversation, most conspiratorial took place between four students of the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart Junior High. Suzzanne, Elizabeth, Ann and I discussed the importance of St. Patrick's Day the following day. What could we do to stand out and be counted among the Irish and others who celebrated? Only one of them had green knee-highs, another had a green sweater - but that wasn't enough. After considerable deliberation we came up with a brilliant plan. We decided we would all dye our hair green with food coloring. (This was in the days that primary colors in one's hair was not done) Only one of us - Elizabeth - had brown hair, but we blonds convinced her it would still have a nice green sheen. So it was decided.
The next morning everything at my house was bustling, as usual. Eight people preparing for work or school with our one bathroom, Dad acting as the timing cop. We had 15 minute intervals to do all our morning bath rituals, including a quick shower, if needed. We had to fill in our name on the blanks on a slip of paper for our desired time slot each night before. I strategically chose to go last. Unusual for me, as I so preferred hot water and there likely wouldn't be much left. By the time I got my bathroom time, most everyone had left. I washed my hair, but didn't put on a stretchy headband this morning. Instead, I grabbed an old toothbrush, and then went into the kitchen and snuck into the baking cupboard and grabbed the green food coloring bottle.
Up in my room, I toothbrushed streaks of green into my hair and admired the effect in the mirror above the dresser. I heard Mom downstairs and realized she wasn't going to her part-time job today. Rats. I'd have to sneak out unseen. I managed to do that, somehow, but was late enough I had to walk to school by myself, instead of my usual front yard meet-up with Suzzanne.
I didn't go to mass that morning, instead gathering with my friends between the school buildings just before class. When I got there, I saw them and they squealed with delight at my hair, although NONE of them had dyed their hair! I was a bit miffed, but enjoyed the attention, and we went into class just as the bell rung. I slid into my seat and immediately saw Sister Collins pursed lips as she looked at me. She was such a pill. She took one of her long scraps of paper and was writing something on it and motioned to me to come up to her desk. I did. She handed me the paper, taped shut at the end of it, and told me to go to the principal's office and give Sister Keenan the note.
Going to the office, I squeezed open the note and read part of it - the words: "this disgusting display" and thought "I'm in big trouble." I walked into Sister Keenan's office. She was a fairly strict, but fair principal. I was pleased to see that today she proudly displayed her Irish heritage with a green ribbon pinned on her habit. I handed her the note and noticed she was staring at my hair and starting to smile widely, when she read the note and quickly took on a more serious demeanor. She cleared her throat and said, "Mary, I think it would be best if you went home and washed your hair now."
It was a beautiful spring day, and I went home. Mom was there and got a kick out of it, luckily. I got to wash my hair and visit with her while it dried. Back at school, nothing else was ever mentioned and I wasn't punished at all. But lessons were learned. The next hair-brained scheme those friends came up with, I made good and sure I wasn't the only one actually following through with it!
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