"Right Turn at a Funeral" by M.J. Norwood

 – I knew, right then, what I had to do.

At 42, I wanted to be the kind of teacher who made a difference.

Recently retired after 14 years of service to the students at East Bend Elementary School, M.J. Norwood lives in East Bend, North Carolina. Her work has appeared in the Personal Story Publishing Project publication, Curious Stuff, and she is the author of The Sandbar and The Shoals. A member of the North Carolina Writers' Network and currently writing her third book, she loves nothing more than being recognized and remembered by former students.

Author’s Talk

M.J. Norwood

I kept the stories I wrote when I was eight years old in a cloth covered three ring binder, which I still have. What I didn’t realize was that life would provide me with more material for books than I could ever possibly use. There isn’t enough time left to write down all of those stories, but I am compelled to write every day. It’s good therapy. Twists and Turns provided me with the perfect opportunity to share one of the most important decisions I have ever made.  

My parents had a passion for history and nature, so we traveled our home state of North Carolina, visiting museums and state parks. I knew from an early age that I would end up working in one of those museums, and I spent twenty years as a costumed historical interpreter at Old Salem in Winston-Salem. I use the word working very lightly, as it was a pleasure to learn the arts and mysteries of early trades, such as blue indigo dyeing and white oak basket making. (I could tear a tree apart with my bare hands and a couple of hand tools.) I enjoyed meeting visitors from all over the world, and I had the honor of demonstrating shoemaking to former President and First Lady, Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter. I met Maya Angelou and Michael J. Fox, and I was the solo recipient of a mini stand-up routine by Jonathan Winters. I also interpreted to literally thousands of school groups. 

When my father-in-law began showing signs of dementia, I had to leave the job I loved to care for him. I could have returned to Old Salem when he passed away, but I “had a moment” at his funeral. I honestly believe it was divine intervention. I felt completely compelled to change course and do something that would make a greater impact on society. I decided to enter the world of public education.  

Teaching is a great responsibility. Children spend as many, if not more waking hours with their teachers than they do with their parents during school days. As I learned, there is nothing more gratifying than watching a child who suddenly understands something. The light bulb illuminates with knowledge and comprehension. That’s an aha moment, and it feels so good. I have no regrets. 

I had to retire recently from my position as a teaching librarian, but I am working to get some of those stories I wrote when I was young published. (Check out The Sandbar by M.J. Norwood on Amazon, and “The Box”, my story in Curious Stuff at randelljones.com.)—M.J. Norwood

M.J. Norwood at Old Salem sharing her shoemaking knowledge with former President Jimmy Carter and former First Lady Rosalynn Carter

Meeting Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter at Old Salem

The Carter Center called Old Salem thirty years ago to speak to the shoemaker. I was head of the shop back then …the master shoemaker.  They told me Jimmy Carter wanted to buy two tickets to the shop, so he could ask me some questions about shoemaking. He was writing a novel which took place in the 18th century. I was floored. So, I and two of my fellow shoemakers, had to get checked out by the Secret Service. Of course, I told the Carter Center that President Carter did NOT have to buy tickets. He and Rosalynn showed up in an old van and parked right in front of the shop. There were at least two other Secret Service cars with them, and agents patrolled the sidewalks. They were so gracious. That’s what stood out to me. They were just so genuine. We answered questions and presented them with gifts, and Rosalynn returned to the van to make peanut butter crackers. Lovely, lovely people.—M.J. Norwood