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of our supplies.
    Today, we make a big deal out of the first day of school inour home as well. We got together with my mom on the first day for a prayer before the kids start the new school year, asking God to bless them and to allow them to be a light for Him to their friends throughout the school year. We’ve been doing that ever since John Luke started his first day of kindergarten. He doesn’t let me take his picture with his teachers anymore, but I still take whatever pictures I can. I, at least, make him take one picture with his brother and sisters on the first day of school and he appeases me, because I’m his mom, and he loves me!
    I can just imagine little Willie getting on that school bus for his first day all by himself, full of confidence and certain that if he just flashed those dimples, the world would be his. And it usually was.
     
    Somehow I made it to Pinecrest Elementary School and jumped off the bus with my little book satchel. The principal was standing there when I got off the bus.
    “Hey, I’m Willie Jess Robertson and I’m looking for the kindergarten room,” I told him in the most professional way I could.
    The principal pointed down a hall and said, “It’s right down there.”
    I got to my teacher’s room and one of my best friends, Mel Hamilton, was crying because I wasn’t there yet. I consoled him and was proud that someone needed me. School was going to be fun.
    When I started kindergarten, we received free lunchesbecause our family didn’t have any money. I thought everybody was on free lunch; I didn’t even realize we were poor. But there were actually only about three kids in my class receiving free lunches, and I was one of them. There was a little boy who sat in front of me in kindergarten, and I thought he was really poor. He would come to school covered in dirt and didn’t smell very good. One day, I took a bar of soap to school and put it on his desk. I wasn’t trying to be mean or anything; I just didn’t think he had any soap at home. Later in life, once I realized that we were getting the free lunches because we were poor just like that little kid, I remember thinking, “Man, were we that poor?”
    Over the next few years, I noticed that our family was beginning to make more money. When we went from receiving free lunches to getting reduced lunches, I thought that was a sign that Duck Commander was taking off. When we started paying for our own lunches, I thought, “Man, we must be rich now!”
     
    I THOUGHT EVERYBODY WAS ON FREE LUNCH; I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE WE WERE POOR.
     
    The Robertson boys had a good reputation at school. Phil and Kay made sure that we treated our classmates and teachers with respect. They always insisted we behave at school and listen to our teachers. Even if we weren’t the best-dressed students and didn’t even have enough money to pay for our lunches, we were all voted class favorite at one time or another. Actually, I was voted “class favorite” several years in elementary school and was class president in ninth grade, with the campaign slogan “Don’t be silly, vote for Willie!”
    I learned how to make extra money at an early age. I thought I was the cutest kid in school, so I was surely going to use it to my advantage. In elementary school, the concession stand never sold the candy I liked to eat, so I decided I was going to bring my own candy to school and sell it to my classmates. It started with a box of chewing gum someone had given us. I took the gum to school and sold it for thirty cents apiece. Then I had Kay take me to the store, and I bought Lemon Heads, Red Hots, Mike and Ikes, and all sorts of other candy. I stored the candy in my locker, and my classmates started calling me the “Little Tycoon.” I was making like three hundred dollars a week, minus the 10 percent I paid Kay for driving me to the store for supplies.
    Now, there were some occupational hazards associated with the job. Darla Leonard, who rode my