From the time I was 5 years old until I was 10 – that would be first grade until halfway through sixth – my brother Isaac and I attended a private Lutheran school on the outskirts of downtown Houston. And St. Matthew Lutheran Church celebrates 100 years this Sunday, which is a pretty amazing feat when you think about it.
I plan to drive down Saturday and will attend Sunday morning’s church service and the lunch that will follow. Joining me will be several friends from my elementary school class whom I’ve been blessed to stay in touch with after reconnecting over 10 years ago through a Facebook group we created.
Sadly, the St. Matthew School closed years ago because there simply weren’t enough numbers to remain open. But I know other alumni of the school and former church members will be on hand for the centennial celebration.
But if you’ll indulge me, let’s go back to fall 1966 for a minute.
When my parents, the principal and the kindergarten teacher decided after the initial weeks of kindergarten that the class was a waste of my time (all I remember doing was taking naps on red and blue mats), I was bumped to first grade at 5 – an age I’d reached less than seven months earlier. Thanks to that move, I went through school – including public school in Conroe after we moved in December 1971 – a year younger than most everyone in my grade, and graduated from Conroe High three months after turning 17.
But also thanks to that move, I joined Mrs. Carnitz’s first-grade class, where I became the dorky, quiet, shy friend of a bunch of awesome kids. We had the same core group most of my time there until we moved, but some kids moved away and others moved in – and in the case of Julia Nolte Hall, she moved away and came back. And to this day, she’s still a member of St. Matthew!
I have nothing but wonderful memories of being a student at St. Matthew. If I ever got bullied, I sure don’t remember it (I doubt I ever did, but I DO vividly remember getting bullied after moving to Washington Jr. High in Conroe). I had a best friend, my dear buddy Paul Sweitzer, who sadly passed away two years ago. We’ve lost several members of our SM class, despite most of us being only 65 or 66.
When I was growing up in an abusive situation because of my adoptive mother (not that I knew I was adopted at the time), we weren’t actually churchgoers, so we didn’t attend services at St. Matthew. It always seemed odd to me that Mom and Dad had us attend a Lutheran school if we weren’t going to go to church there. But Isaac (a grade ahead of me) and I memorized Scripture and Luther’s Small Catechism faithfully from our Memory Book, and religion was of course a daily class. I would’ve preferred to stay at St. Matthew, but obviously I didn’t have a choice!
The group of friends from my class who will attend Sunday’s celebration won’t be a large one, but we’ll have a great time hugging and reminiscing anyway. We’ve had a couple of mini-reunions in recent years, and I’m really looking forward to seeing my childhood friends again.
Go St. Matthew Crusaders!! 
