My favorite Margaritaville performer wrote and performed a song that has some meaning to me as the lyrics are in line with something I could say, and often do in some of my conversations with people. The song is titled Stories We Could Tell, and I have thousands of stories I love telling, and do so often. Some of those stories involve Sally’s and my career experiences and some of the people with whom we worked, spanning my 32 plus years teaching (plus another 17 years subbing), and Sally’s over 40-year career as a day care provider. Borrowing Buffett’s melody many of those stories could be told by singing, Oh the Children We Have Met.

It seems more and more, when Sally and I are out having dinner, or Grocery Shopping (often on Tuesdays at Wegman’s for the 5% “Wise People” Discount), or at church, maybe at a movie, at Planet Fitness, at sporting and/or community events, weddings and/or funerals, or while we’re just out and about day-to-day running errands, or of course, at The Pub, Rod & Gun, or Waddington’s, we run into Generation X, Y, or Z-ers, or their parents, or grandparents of them, that we’ve cared for, taught, or coached in those concurrently run near 50 years. Often, when we bump into them, stories immediately come to mind and sometimes are then shared with them and other people who are with us, of memories we share with those parents and kids we met through the years.

There are times, I’m approached and asked if I remember who’s talking to me, and I confess, there are some I had way back, whose names I don’t offhand recall. I’m proud of myself that I am able to remember a large number kids by their names, even though I had them when they were in early to intermediate elementary school, or in 7th or 8th grade when I coached them in football and softball, or back when I coached Youth to High School Baseball, and later Varsity Softball beginning in the 70s and running through 2018. (I also have many great recalls of fellow teachers from my schools, and others in the area, of those met at the Jackson Center, of assistant and opposing coaches and players and officials in those experiences too). I also remember countless kids whose games I officiated when I started back in the 60s, not just from Jamestown, but from all over Chautauqua, and Cattaraugus counties, as I officiated in both counties. Not only do I have great memories involving the kids, but also the projects, trips, experiences, laughs, tears, and everything else in between, I was fortunate to have had as that teacher of 49 years and coach/official for 50 years.

It’s not the longevity I remember, or want to be remembered for, it’s the number of people, especially children, I was privileged, honored, and proud to have met and worked with along the way. Oh, the stories I could tell, and the feelings I get when I run into those former students, athletes, teachers, coaches, and parents, many still addressing me as Mr. L, Coach, Papa Lombo, Coach Lombo, Blue, and the handshakes and hugs with which I’m greeted so often.

With Sally’s career, she also was a part of hundreds of children’s lives, much younger than the ones I worked with, who offered so many precious memories and stories. The expression beginning or ending with, “Out of the mouths of babes…” are so appropriate in the telling of her stories, as some of the things that was said by so many of her honorary kids and grandkids were special and priceless. I still love hearing many of the kids she watched still call her Miss Sally and/or Mama Lombo, and see the greetings of smiles and hugs she receives when her “kids” see her out and about.

Sally watched some kids, who, later, had their own kids and sent them to her day care. We’ve been invited to weddings, school programs, sporting events, and graduations of her kids throughout the years.

I was fortunate to see much of what Sally did and how she did it with her kids. The routines she established with them, the table manners she expected them to practice, the picking up after playtime, or when switching toys, practices she established, and the teaching of some actions have certain consequences, were amazing. The hanging up of coats and putting shoes or boots where they belonged, the craft activities (including parents gifts for holidays and special days), the songs, dancing and kids group games she did with them, the sharing she taught, the taking them to and from pre-school, and occasionally taking multiple kids to the grocery store, with expectations to behave while there, made me so proud, and envious, of her patience, her flexibility to deal with occasional sudden sickness, falls, or disappointments her kids may have had if someone had the toy they wanted, was so impressive to witness. My biggest pride I was witness to in watching her, was the genuine love she showed to all her kids, as if they were all our own kids/grandkids. I’m reminded of that when someone comes up to her in public and gives her that huge smile and hug. She too, like me, can sing those words of Buffett, “Oh, the stories we could tell,” adding our sub-verse, “Oh, the Children We Have Met”.