At First Blush

kids-in-love I’ve been trying to remember my very first crush…the first time my heart was awakened by those sudden butterflies fluttering due to another.

There was Bobby Hargrove in the third grade, he in the sixth who was a patrol boy.  Every day climbing down Tesiny Hill my heart rate racing whenever he came into view.  “Walk, don’t run,” he’d say, his patrol belt tied proudly around his chest.  I’d go home and tell my dolls all about Bobby.

We had Louie the trumpet player, a fiancee of a cousin twice removed.  He’d greet this seven year-old with a kiss and a wink, the first set of dimples to ever make my acquaintance.  Kids don’t know how transparent they can be, suddenly the center of a good laugh formally introduced to embarrassment.

I remember Billy Faye in the seventh grade, Lee Jones in the eighth.  Michael Scarpetti the altar boy and Ricky Santoro who, in junior high school, was shot four times at a drive-by shooting dead at 17.

His family had no money so the school paid for the funeral.  It was my first one, and seeing him, this handsome, dark-haired fellow I necked with in the back of Mary Jane Andrasick’s mustang, looked like no one I had ever seen before. Let’s hear it for cut-rate embalming.

His tombstone erected by his classmates said…A TRIBUTE FROM ALL MY FRIENDS.  It still languishes, I’m told, in the old part of St. Michael’s Cemetery like it was etched onto the granite just yesterday.

What brought on this first-class musing was watching a young couple’s pas de deux  dancing along the avenue.  They couldn’t have been more than 15 as they gently rubbed up against each other…holding hands softly, shy eyes glancing away.  They had yet to move into the others territory, comfortable and relaxed, that sense of home you never want to stray from.

I looked at the girl all dreamy thinking…she thinks she’ll never feel this way again.  He’s her Lancelot forever and ever.

Wait till she learns, there are so many more waiting in the wings.



About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Thanks.
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38 Responses to At First Blush

  1. I remember my first crush. She was a in my first grade class. Dark hair, brown eyes and I wanted to get her attention in the worst way, and I did. A group of us were playing hide and seek, and I climbed onto this roof. When I peeked out over the edge, I saw this ledge and climbed down onto it…unaware it was a garage door that was open. Petrified, I cried and screamed and made a fool out of myself. But, I did get her attention, and in the worst possible way. :O)


  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    A real memory inducing post, Susannah. My first crush was my uncle’s hired boy. I was still in single digits and he was a teen. I got his attention by squeezing a puff-ball in his eyes and temporarily blinding him. Oh yeah, I made him cry, too. But I bet he still remembers me!


    • I’m sitting in Panera in a post prednisone haze in big need of a laugh. So thanks Skinny. Can see you in peddle pushers trying to be alluring. The seeds of Skinnydom planted on the farm.


  3. One of my first was a much older boy (maybe 18) at the roller skating rink. He worked there and was on skates all the time picking up little kids (which at 12 I definitely wasn’t or so I thought). I wasn’t all that graceful and he never gave me a second look. I even learned to skate backwards in an effort to gain his attention. Sigh!


  4. micklively says:

    Sharon Glynn took me to see her horse. I didn’t understand why my family were laughing. Then Linda Biddulph enticed me away with her home economics offerings: such a fickle boy I was.
    Good blog piece Susannah.


  5. AZMike says:

    A barn hayloft with some cousin somewhere around 4th or 5th grade, Libby Fenton hung the moon for me at the skating rink in 7th grade. Then we moved to the country 60 miles away. Ninth grade I got my first dip from a seventh grader that needed a patsy, turns out a married ‘friend of the family’ had deflowered a passed out Jane. She even stopped afterwards to go find an uncle that worked nearby as a witness. The whole school, the town knew before me…darn near. Luckily none of the swimmers found an egg. Pre-DNA meant one daddy is good as the next I guess. I saw her years later wearing a moo moo. 🙂


  6. I remember Lisa in first grade, but feelings not reciprocated until 3rd grade with a very beautiful young lady whose name slips by me at the moment. She moved away (divorce, I think) and I didn’t see her again until high school – she was still the most beautiful young woman. First kiss was at 15/16. I will never forget how that felt.


  7. Third grade was Tammy.


  8. Oh the memories you bring back with this one. My first crush was my best friends’s older brother … very convenient for my heart since we were inseparable.We had a fling when I was in high school. He would pick me up in his Chevy Malibu and we would make out before school … thank goodness my uniform couldn’t talk.
    He sadly committed suicide in our twenties. At the funeral his mother pulled me aside and said “I know you loved my Chris ilk no other.” Either I was much more obvious than I thought or my uniform did have a big mouth after all. I cherish that she acknowledged that fact in the height of her own grief.


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