To the public school teachers: I consider myself a proud, happy, and grateful product of the New York City school system. In my time, the teachers had a tremendous job teaching children of families who emigrated from all over Europe. They had to teach reading, writing, arithmetic, and history to form students into solid American citizens. English very often was not the language spoken at home.

I loved my teachers and I loved school. I still remember their names from my time at P.S. 170 and Bay Ridge High School. (I graduated in 1940 so the post card is even older than I am!) I had Miss Rush in Kindergarten. Miss File in third grade. In sixth grade, I had Mrs. Strauss who was so kind. She invited me to her home where she had a beautiful piano and helped me with whatever songs I was learning as a young singer. My high school French teacher was Mlle. Faust. She used a pencil that was red on one side and blue on the other. So trust me, I learned to speak French like a native.

To all the teachers: Thank you, thank you. You will never be forgotten. And I have no reason to think that in the challenging melting pot of New York schools today, the job of the teacher is any easier or that their work is any less miraculous.