At Kwajalein, we went barefoot into the classrooms. We lined our flip flops up on the sidewalk outside the classroom. All kids either walked or rode their bike to school. There were no buses and very few cars. The school was like a two-story cinderblock hotel with exterior hallways. As any red-blooded male child in a tropical paradise, all I remember thinking about at school was getting out of school. I left Kwaj as an eight-year-old and that was a while ago.
School Memories
