DATE: Thursday, June 5, 1997                TAG: 9706040204

SECTION: NORFOLK COMPASS         PAGE: 14   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY KIA MORGAN ALLEN, STAFF WRITER  

                                            LENGTH:  102 lines

AT 100, FORMER TEACHER RECALLS ``UNFORGETTABLE'' KINDERGARTNERS

Berenice Abbey was a mother to many at a time when teachers took on duel classroom roles.

Abbey, a former schoolteacher, still chuckles when she vividly recalls stories about those kids, almost as if the experiences happened yesterday. But at 100 years old her yesterdays date back to the 1940s and much farther while her memories of today are as shaky as each rickety step she takes.

Although some things like what she ate for breakfast are quickly forgotten after a swallow, there are things that will forever remain on her mind, like the 36 years worth of unforgettable moments with the kids in her kindergarten classes.

So, she wrote a book bearing her namesake that's chock-full of vignettes about the life lessons each child managed to teach ``Miz Abbey'' while she taught them their ABCs.

And no matter how old ``Miz Abbey'' continues to get, ``her children'' will never grow up because her memories won't let them.

Marty Trachtenberg, 56, was a kindergartner in Abbey's class and is now the executive vice president at the Jewish Community Center in Norfolk.

``That gray-haired man was in my class?'' Abbey asked her granddaughter, Ellen Sacks, last month after Ellen had taken her to the Jewish Community Center to meet Trachtenberg.

He was. But in 1945 when Trachtenberg was in Abbey's class, his hair was blondish-brown and he was only 5.

``Her memory is going, but she's still very stately looking,'' Trachtenberg said of his former teacher.

Abbey's caring approach to education left an impression on Trachtenberg that helped him chart a course to a successful career today.

``She set the tone for the rest of my education. She was a very warm person. Kindergarten was fun,'' he said.

Children were encouraged and nurtured in Abbey's class, when teachers served as educators, surrogate mothers and fathers, and ``yes, ma'am'' was the only back talk allowed.

``Children have to be taught and heavily disciplined,'' Abbey said about today's kids.

``You shouldn't allow them to do nasty things. When I see them hitting and doing nasty things, I wonder who brings them up,'' she said, once again reverting to the days of yore.

``My mother taught me to love, honor, obey and do what's right.''

And so far, at least two students credit Abbey's old-fashioned tough but tender methodology.

``I remember that she seemed to be very strict,'' said Geraldine Rude, 62, of Manhattan, who attended one of Abbey's kindergarten classes in 1939.

``It was positive,'' Trachtenberg said of his kindergarten experience.

Both Trachtenberg and Rude attended school P.S. 186 in Bensonhurst, N.Y.

The last time Rude saw Abbey was in 1954 when she went back to her former school to do student teaching. Trachtenberg by chance saw Abbey for the first time since kindergarten several years ago at the Norfolk International Airport.

It's almost impossible for Abbey to remember every child she touched through her teachings. There are thousands to be accounted for. But for those that resurfaced in her subconscious, Abbey included them in a 20-page book with stories culled straight from the classroom.

She cautioned on page 15 of her book, ``beware of children bearing gifts.''

It was around Christmas and to Abbey's disappointment no child gave her a gift. Then in came a boy with five-, 10- and 20-dollar bills. ``Oh, thank you,'' said an excited Abbey, only to find his mother in tow. ``Thank God,'' said the boy's mother when Abbey returned the cash. ``That was my rent money.''

Then there are stories that are more heartfelt like ``butterflies and caterpillars.''

A sad girl attended Abbey's class and never spoke. Then one day Abbey gathered all the children to tell them how a butterfly lays eggs that turn into caterpillars and how a caterpillar forms a cocoon to keep warm, just as though it were in a box.

The child who never spoke suddenly said, ``They put my mama in a box.''

And then there's the story of the accused that goes like this:

Somebody had an ``accident'' in Miz Abbey's kindergarten class. Was it Lucy? ``No Miz Abbey.'' Then Tony? ``No Miz Abbey.'' Maybe John? ``No Miz Abbey.''

Then who?

The room fell silent. Then from her side came a little voice that said.

``Maybe it was you, Miz Abbey.''

Two hundred copies of the cute and heart warming tales were printed and sold a few years ago. The proceeds were donated to the blind. The book is homemade with the illustrations, writing and printing all done by her granddaughters Ellen, Linda and Jill Sacks, all of Norfolk.

Abbey moved to this area in January after living in the same Bensonhurst home for more than 50 years. Her family agreed that she needed to be closer to them. She now resides in the Beth Sholom Home of Eastern Virginia, and they visit her every day.

She also drove the streets of New York until she was 95. Family members then urged Abbey to give up her car and her driving habits.

For Abbey, eating right is not her advice to those seeking life's longevity.

``It's not what you put in your mouth,'' she said, ``it's what comes out of it.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photos

Marty Trachtenberg, 56, was in ``Miz Abbey's'' class when he was 5.

Berenice Abbey celebrates her 100th with family and, of course,

children.

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