Virginia Muchna Obituary

I was privileged to teach with Ginger at a unique and wonderful school known as Morton Gingerwood. Ginger and I taught fourth grade together for nearly a decade. During that time, we shared so many good times. Field trips to the pumpkin patch, castle building contests, Christmas breakfasts for teachers and volunteer parents, Unit C planning sessions for word attack and study skills, etc. were some of the minutia which occupied our time. Ginger was a master teacher who was always willing to share ideas and insights. Ginger was multitasking long before the term was invented. One afternoon I walked into her classroom and she was orally grading a math assignment with her class while at the same time she was grading phonics books and chewing gum all at the same time. We had so many laughs together. Once a year each grade level planned a display for the bulletin board in the front hallway. When we were talking it over, Ginger had the idea to draw a picture of the school with the caption: School's Out, School's Out. Teachers Let the Monkeys Out. Once we finished it, Ginger thought it needed something more. So, she came up with a picture of King Kong to place on top of the picture of the school. She gave the picture to our aide and told her to place the picture on top of the school. Our aide, who was quite young and inexperienced, thought Ginger meant that she should put the picture on the actual roof of school. And when our perplexed aide vociferously objected to climbing up on the roof, Ginger and I broke out in a most ungenerous laugh.
Gingerwood School was well known for its mysterious odors. Back in 70's I smoked a pipe. One time I dashed out of the teachers lounge and I stopped to briefly chat with Ginger when I asked her if she smelled something burning. At first she said no, but a few seconds later she said she did indeed smell something unusual. A moment later I discovered my pipe smoldering in my jacket pocket.
Lunchtime at Gingerwood was unique. When I first there I attempted to sit quietly and read while eating. The teachers lounge at lunchtime was anything but quiet. At Ginger's insistence, I wound up playing pinochle even though I had never played before. We seldom had time for more than a couple hands but the games were always a great deal of fun. I remember several lunch periods when popcorn fights broke out among the teachers. We all had a great time. It's fortunate our students didn't get to witness such interesting moments.
Even with all the silliness at times, Morton Gingerwood, as an open school, was a place of learning and professionalism. Ginger was a fantastic person to teach with. Her love of teaching and her love for her students were in evidence every day she was at school. Teaching with her was indeed a privilege. And it was fun too.