Saturday's with Dolly

For the past 6 months I have been working with my old High School English teacher, Dolly Denaro typing her memoirs, entitled Rebel Teacher.

Dolly is 78 years old and a character in herself and my days with her are interesting to say the least.

I first met Dolly when I was a Sophomore in High School. I had gone on a trip to England on a school trip. Dolly came along...but she didn't go on any of the tours with us, she would go off during the day to gamble. (In telling this story to other people, they usually say, "I didn't know there was gambling in England"...well Dolly sure did). Every night she would meet us for dinner. I'd sit and talk with her while we waited for the group to show up. She'd tell me all about her adventures playing craps . I remember her taking the chaperone's money and promise to double it. And I believe she did.

In my Senior year she cornered me in the hallway and asked me if I was taking her college writing class. I said "I guess so." There were about 15 of us who did. We had Dolly right after lunch. If you saw us in the cafeteria, you'd find a somber bunch. None of us looked forward to her class. We never knew what to expect with Dolly, but we knew one of us was going to get yelled at, and/or receive our paper back with a big red "NO" written across it. My friend Tricia got thrown out of Dolly's class for smiling. She is still traumatized by this.

Dolly's motto was, "In college you will be marked holistically and would get an A on your paper, but I am going to give you the grade that you deserve." We had to write 7 papers..."Teenage Suicide, The Holocaust, Drugs Addiction, Euthanasia..." were the topics I remember. We had to keep rewriting until we got it right (by Dolly's standards). Some of were still rewriting the first paper by the end of the semester. But in college...we all got "A+." We all said "Thank God for Dolly."

Dolly and I got back in touch after 12 years at a Poker Fundraising event at the High School. It was on a Tuesday night. I was there just to check out the event, and Dolly was there to gamble. She showed up late and had to wait for a table to open up, in the meantime she talked to me. I gave her my card, and thought that would be it. I was wrong. The next day she called me...and in her signature way, she "invited me" to dinner. The conversation went along the lines of, "Sanchez, I want to take you to dinner. How about Friday? You pick me up."

The dinner was filled with stories of her life. She told me that while she was teaching at the high school she owned a disco and a bar. She told me about her book, and I volunteered to type it. She said that I'd have to go to her house to do it because she doesn't want anything to leave the house.

So I've been going to her house almost every weekend since we first met. Although its not just typing. Sometimes she likes to read to me what she has written before I type it. I get the color commentary as she reads through..."This really happened, Barbara." I get phone calls at all hours, "Barbara, its Dolly, can I read what I wrote to you?" I had to put a stop to the 6:30am calls, but otherwise I love to hear her stories. She always tells me that once we finish the book, she'll find me a good guy.

Dolly often says that she doesn't know how I came into her life, (why were we at that event...why did she show up late) but she is so thankful for me. Apparently lots of people have offered to help her type, but only a few got past the first chapter. I'm thankful for her too. I really enjoy the time I spend with her.

We've got a few more chapters to go. The book is fulled with colorful stories from her days in Brooklyn and then her life as a teacher. I can see it as a movie as well as a book. I would choose Madonna (from A League of Their Own) to play her.

Dolly's goal is to get her book published (before she dies she tells me) and give her money to the nuns who helped her growing up...the list of people she wants to give to gets longer and longer every time I talk to her. I just want to get her published and then let God do the rest.