The Names: A Memoir by N. Scott Momaday, Response

“Some of my earliest memories are of the storms, the hot rain lashing down and lighting running on the sky and the storm cellar into which my mother and I descended so many times when I was very young.”
“Across the years I see my mother reading there on the low, narrow bench, the lamplight flicking on her face and on the earthen walls’ I smell the dank odor of that room, and hear the great weather raging at the door.”
I really like these two phase because it’s really detail and descriptive. When I was reading it I can actually see his mother reading on the bench and the lamplight flicking on her face even though I don’t know how her mother look like. And how he describe how the weather was like in the first phase. Also back in the second phase when he wrote about the room and how it smelt and how bad the weather was. It kind of reminded me when it was storming outside, but some how it wasn’t dark. But more sunny. The wind was strong and it seem as if there was a tornado coming. But my mom didn’t care, she sat right next to the window knitting like there was no storm at all.

If I were to return

It's quite amazing where I met my friends. Locker slamming loud, students chasing each other down the hallways. Teachers yelling telling them to quit running or they might injury themselves. The bells would ring and everyone would start to runs into their class. Sitting in rolls of desks talking their buddies right next time them, until the teacher would start class. Passing notes to each other while the teacher wasn't looking. Whispering answers back and fourth when the teachers gave us tests or quizs. Holding our breaths every time when having a one on one conversation with our teachers. Smells like we were talking to a junkyard, or something that had came from the toilet sewers. Chasing after my friends out in the playground playing cops and robbers after eating lunch.

Walking through the same hallway where kids once was chased each other, noticing that there are now cameras on every corner. "Man this hallway is so big, A firetruck can fit through!" I once said. And now that its been awhile, it seems as if a bicycle can't even fit through. Classrooms filled with tables and chairs, younger teachers and staff members. Over seeing the lockers that once stand tall are now just like an anthills in my backyard. Half the playground taken over by a new building the school had just recently build and used by the kindergardens. The memories are still here.