Well, at the start of the 7th grade, I was about the same height as Robert Y. We were nearly tied as the shortest guys in the 7th grade. Somewhere between then and the end of the ninth grade, I grew at least a foot. By the end of the ninth grade, I was tied with two other guys as the tallest ones. The sad part was that all that growth did not make me more coordinated, only taller. It was not because I didn't do a lot of things, it was just that those darned cracks in the gym floor were enough to trip me up.
School in Junior high was a lot like High School in that most of the teachers were specialized and didn't cross the lanes or lines in what they taught. There was one teacher that taught English and Latin but I didn't cross that line for many reasons. For the most part, the Science teacher taught science, biology and chemistry. The Math teacher also taught Algebra and Geometry and the music teacher taught choral and band. I would say that most of the teachers were competent at what they did and there were only a few that should have moved on into retirement.
When we started the 7th grade, our Gym/Health teacher had been there for a few years. After on year of the baby Boomers, he moved on to other places unknown to the student body. None of his teams had a really strong winning record and it seemed to me that he went through the motions but was not inspired to help us achieve anything above mediocrity. The 8th grade year opened with a new coach and he was a retired Marine. He had a great big ring that looked like the taillights on his Lincoln and he tried to make us into a boot camp Marine. I am not sure where he failed the worst or if he just moved on to more money and less hassle. Finally in the 9th grade, a new coach seemed to genuinely liked us and we didn't hate him. He was a tall thin guy with a pleasant manner. When we moved on, he was still there so he must have been doing something right. For the last 9 weeks of the 9th grade, I had a broken bone in my right foot and didn't suit up for PE. I would have expected to get a C for that semester because all I did was hand out towels. About a week from the end of the year, the coach showed us the President's standards for Physical Fitness. He said that anyone that could do 112 sit ups would get an A for the semester. I was one of a few that did it. I did have to stay in bed most of the next day because my muscles hurt so much.
One class that the majority of us took was Shop or Industrial Arts. Each year, we were taught different skills and I am pretty sure that the beginning drafting class was the basis for a lot of what I was able to do later on. We started by drawing patterns of shapes and then cutting them out for a grade. It was how well the looked that was important. For some reason I could visualize them better than I could draw them. My patterns fitted together for the most part but they were kind of sloppy so it all amounted to a C. Minneha was only a few blocks from the Beech Aircraft Plant and they donated a lot of supplies to our school. Our section on plastics was a lot of fun and there are probably a letter opener and pie server still around from those classes. Leather was another part of the class that was a lot of fun but just how many key protectors can you make? Somewhere in the middle of all that, we were given the Tandy Catalog and we could buy kits to make things like wallets and notebooks. The basic kit was a wallet and the only difference in the finish projects was the tooling and the stitching around the edge. I know I made at least one because I carried it for several years. It never had a lot of money in it but it was good enough to get me through Junior High.
Every day in Junior High, the kids that rode the bus played volleyball in the gym. If you were on the first run in the morning, you got to play about 30 minutes until the second run busses arrived, Those kids went home as soon as they could load the busses and the second run kids played volleyball for 20 minutes or so. The kids that lived in my neighborhood were not allowed to stay after school but most if us managed to slip in and play a little volleyball in the morning. One year, I think it was in the 8th grade, the coach picked out a team to play in a tournament. That team was mostly the kids that rode the busses and played a lot of volleyball. The first night of three nights, the team went off on the bus after school. The next morning, we were told that the volleyball team was in a heap of trouble. It seems that after their first game, they were told to stay in the gym and they went next door to a DQ. The coach fired that entire team and in our gym class that day he had us play volleyball and picked out a new team. I went on that team and we won two games that evening. I guess that playing volleyball some was better than the other schools. That next night, we went to the tournament and won. It was pretty clear that the second team from Minneha could whip anybody else's first team.
In and amongst all those unwashed masses, the testosterone showed up like facial hair and pimples. In the showers, the appearance of body hair in the 8th grade was another sign of the impending aging process. I'll bet there was no young boy who daydreamed of some girl that wasn't embarrassed by a stray erection as he had to go from one class to another. The guys stood around and watched and t seemed the girls all clumped together and giggled. I wonder If their health class prepared them for more than ours did. If there was anything that came close to Sex Ed in Junior High it was innuendo wrapped in a mystery and told like fairy tales. Guess what I saw was the start of more stories. Actual experience in the area of sex was probably more like an accidental walking in the bathroom as your sister got out of the shower. Back then, there was some titillation in the magazines one of our friends father had but no true nudity. There were a couple of the girls that I had minor crushed on. One was dating a friend of mine and one of the older boys kept threatening him with bodily harm if he didn't break up with her. You know the type, a guy who was held back at least once and was 6 foot tall and over 200 lbs. in the 9th grade. He was one of the guys that went to Wichita Heights and tried to play football. He could run straight ahead for three yards a cloud of dust. Once the other teams found out that he could be tripped up but not tackled, he reverted back into a lineman.
Somewhere in all that mess, I thought I had a real crush on Sheila. I will use her name here because she passed away a couple of years back and nothing here would embarrass her or her remaining family. Sheila and I went to the same church and she was a fun person to be around. I'm sure that I was way too rowdy for her but who knows at that age. One day I was talking to her sister and she said that her mother was the best fried chicken cook in Wichita. I managed to get an invitation to lunch the next Sunday. True to the word of her sister, Sheila's mother turned out to have the best fried chicken in the whole wide world. I'm sure she used lard not that fancy smancy Crisco. I remember that at the end of that lunch, her parents invited us to sit and talk in the living room. Man did I ever need a nap. The conversation started out OK but Bonnie told Sheila that we were too young to get serious. Sheila then told her mother that she was six months older than Bonnie had been when she had Sheila. What, What? I was there for the chicken dinner and these people were talking marriage and children? I think I has to let that whole thing cool off. I do love chicken to this day but not the idea of getting married at 14. Somewhere shortly after that marriage scare, Sheila and Dwayne started dating and they did finally wind up married. It was for me another close call with the call of the wild but like most encounters, went for naught.
I am not sure when or why, but by the time I got to the ninth grade my parents had fairly given up all hope of controlling where or why I went places. Once I got a car, they pretty much told me that if I got put in Jail don't call them because they weren't going to come down to bail me out. I started to work in gas stations after I gave up my paper route in the 9th grade and I spent my own money. I know my Dad went through some hard times due to his manic depression. I thin Mom just didn't keep track of me because she had Dad to worry about. Trust me when I say I didn't mind. I probably wasn't the best influence of he group of guys I hung out with. The good news for them was the fact that I had a car to keep in gas and a girl fiend.
The first girl I ever kissed was Connie. Man was she ever cute and smart. The problem was we were so young that there was just no way we could ever reach the age of getting married. We did date the summer of my 9th grade year but pretty much we were limited to double dates with people that had a license. I am pretty sure that she married a guy right out of High School and is still married for what has to be their 50th anniversary this year.
I will start tomorrow with the selection of a High School and the years that could have but did not get me put in Jail or married.
LUKE
Friday, September 18, 2015
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Fifth and Sixth grade at Minneha
For some reason it seemed that things slowed down in the fifth and sixth grade. I am not sure why but it did seem that way. I discovered the idea that girls were no longer yucky but I was not sure why or what to do with one. The teachers in those grades team taught and we would have the Male teachers for math, history and Geography or science. The lady teachers taught reading and English. I loved reading but hated English. In the years prior to spell checker, I spelled things the way they sounded and that was often far short of the mark. I had a large vocabulary but couldn't spell a lot of it.
One teacher that I had was Mrs. Waller. I can remember her being this lady that was taller than most of us and always had a nice smile even if I didn't deserve one. One day much later, I passed Mrs. Waller in the hall I wondered what the hell had they done to her. She shrunk to just under five feet. I didn't think that most of the change was me.
Back to the fifth and sixth grade part of this story. I developed a horrible crush on one of the girls from the rich neighborhood. One day in the summer I went over to her house and they had a trampoline. Everyone took turns on the trampoline and I was invited to jump with them. I am not sure why, but I jumped one time ad flew way off the trampoline. Someone had broken a bottle of some kind and I cut my foot on broken glass. It wasn't really a bad cut but when Janet's mother was told of the cut, she insisted that I come in and wash off my foot and let her put a bandage on the cut. Oh no, did I just let that cat out of the bag about who I had a crush on? Oh well that was closer to 60 years ago.
In School, one of my favorite subjects was recess. Any time the weather was any where nice we would escape the class room and go to the ball diamond out back. I was involved in Little League by then and I loved to play baseball. Several of the guys brought their ball gloves to school and I remember that Tom Tanner had a new glove that he would not let just anyone use when his team was at bat. Stingy Bastard he was. Like I was going to hurt that new baseball glove. Well, I did spit on it every chance I got. Back in those days, ball players spit a lot and no one was really sure why. I really was jealous of one of the guys that had a gap between his front teeth and could really spit accurately and far. On the days when we could not go out to recess, we played games in the classroom. I don't remember any of the games only that there was some form of elimination and I seldom made it to the last few standing. I would digress to reading a book and I was happy to do that.
I think I mentioned the library and my fondness for it. One thing I also remember was that they had a lot of magazine and my Uncle advertised in the Boy Scout magazine. His ad was "Be on top of the World on a Unicycle." Right there was my cousin riding a unicycle. I could always win a bet that my name was in a magazine because of my crazy cousin. We had a unicycle but I never really liked to ride it because a bike was so much faster and I fell down less.
During those years, I played baseball in the Beech Aircraft league. Our first year we were the Meadowlarks and for some reason I hated that name. Through out the year, our losses mounted until it was pretty clear that unless another team didn't show up for a game we would not win a game al year. I started in the outfield but soon won a spot at first base or catcher. I was one of the guys that could almost always catch a ball thrown to or at me and The other first baseman was the alternate catcher. I think the reason I was the catcher at the end of the year was that I could a fair percentage of the time throw out a runner stealing second. I always seemed to get the guys if they tried to steal third. It didn't hurt that one of our pitchers also played third and was really good at catching the ball. The Meadowlarks went in to the tournament at the end of the year with no expectations. For reasons unknown to anyone, we won our first game and moved on down the bracket towards the finals. Our first loss put us in the consolation bracket but the first and second place team in the league had to play each other. They did and by the time the second place team came up against us in the losing bracket, their attitude was poor. We managed to beat them and played the number one team in the finals. Yes, sadly we lost that game but we did have a couple of wins to take us into the next year.
No one really knew how the teams were thrown together but somehow the meadowlarks had changed into the Tigers and we had what looked like real uniforms the next year. We did a lot better and made out way through the season with only a few losses. A lot of that was due to our pitcher growing about 6 inches and gaining control of a curve ball. I had to fetch a lot of the pitches out of the dirt but few got past me. One of the games I did play first base, a batter hit a dribbler up the base line and I charged the ball. I got to the ball fairly fast but the pitcher didn't look like he could cover first base. All I could do was to take the ball and tag the runner as he ran by me. Did I really hit him in the nuts with my fist and the ball? Yep, took him out right then and there. The other coach wanted me thrown out for un sportsman like conduct. When the umpire stopped laughing, he said it was a fair ball and in play.
One of the things the guys in our neighborhood loved was to go on bike rides. We would form up like a miniature band of Hells Angles and go off on our bikes. I remember on one trip, my bike got hard to ride and when we stopped to see what was wrong, I almost couldn't spin the front wheel. The hub was so hot that you could not touch it. Next to the road was a ditch with water in it. I dipped the front wheel in the water and watched as steam came off the wheel. When we managed to get it home. I took it apart to grease the wheel, Needless to say, the ball bearings fell out on the ground and the hub was so bad that I had to replace the entire wheel. I found a wheel in the neighborhood parts pile and rode that sucker until Christmas.
For some reason one year in the like of Luke, Mom decided to let me have a really nice present. I picked out a race bike in the Sear's catalog and Christmas morning there it sat by the Christmas tree. I saved a few dollars that next spring and bought a light kit so I could ride it at night. That bike was one of the nicest things I had ever owned and I rode the heck out of it. Until the day, when I went out of the school and it was gone. Shock of all shocks, someone stole my bike. After asking around the neighborhood, I found out that Billy was riding a new bike that had been painted with house paint. I stopped him and saw that other than the fact he had removed the fenders, it was my bike with a coat of really crappy pink paint on it. I promptly took it away from him and took it home. Even Zip Strip could not return the paint underneath to anything that looked normal. It did take the pink latex paint off but my racing bike looked rode hard and put away wet.
A few days later, my friend across the street had an old bike that he could no longer ride. It looked OK but needed wheels and a seat. We put the two bikes together and mad a pact when we would share it . One day after a couple of weeks, I came home to find that my friend had taken the bike off on a ride and it was my turn to ride it. I found him at one of the neighbor kids house and we got into a fight. My First punch broke his glasses and cut his nose. Fight over and my parents had to pay for a new frame for his glasses, Bummer. That ended the bike share but not our friendship.
Through the grapevine, I heard that there was a new Boy Scout troop going to start meting at the local fire station. The Scoutmaster was the guy that was the headman at the Koch Estate there in Wichita. He was a WWII vet that had a metal plate in his head. He was a really good guy and helped us in a lot of ways we didn't even know until later. The first thing he did was get the Marine Corps to donate some used sleeping bags to us because none of us had any real gear. He also got some second hand tents and we were on our way to being campers. That next summer we set up a fruit stand and managed to make enough money to outfit ourselves with a trailer and cooking utensils. When it came time to go to camp the next year, Mr. Koch offered to pay our way but the troop leader wanted us to earn our way. We worked a lot of days at the Koch Estate bucking hay and cleaning the flower beds. Come time for camp, we all had enough money to pay our way and a few bucks for some extras. For that reason and that reason only, the name Koch has never been a bad thing to me.
Back to the girls. It was a hoot to hear the other guys talk about girls and what they wanted to do with them. Between all of us, we had no idea what really happened other than hugs and kisses. Some of the guys had had the talk with their days but even then without training aids or pornography, there was no way we had any idea what really happened or how much fun it would be somewhere out in the future. If life was a mystery, girls were a mystery wrapped in stupidity and ignorance.
For the most part, the fifth and sixth grade evolved into the Junior High. Minneha had Kindergarten through the ninth grade all there in one school complex. Moving on to Junior High next installment.
LUKE
One teacher that I had was Mrs. Waller. I can remember her being this lady that was taller than most of us and always had a nice smile even if I didn't deserve one. One day much later, I passed Mrs. Waller in the hall I wondered what the hell had they done to her. She shrunk to just under five feet. I didn't think that most of the change was me.
Back to the fifth and sixth grade part of this story. I developed a horrible crush on one of the girls from the rich neighborhood. One day in the summer I went over to her house and they had a trampoline. Everyone took turns on the trampoline and I was invited to jump with them. I am not sure why, but I jumped one time ad flew way off the trampoline. Someone had broken a bottle of some kind and I cut my foot on broken glass. It wasn't really a bad cut but when Janet's mother was told of the cut, she insisted that I come in and wash off my foot and let her put a bandage on the cut. Oh no, did I just let that cat out of the bag about who I had a crush on? Oh well that was closer to 60 years ago.
In School, one of my favorite subjects was recess. Any time the weather was any where nice we would escape the class room and go to the ball diamond out back. I was involved in Little League by then and I loved to play baseball. Several of the guys brought their ball gloves to school and I remember that Tom Tanner had a new glove that he would not let just anyone use when his team was at bat. Stingy Bastard he was. Like I was going to hurt that new baseball glove. Well, I did spit on it every chance I got. Back in those days, ball players spit a lot and no one was really sure why. I really was jealous of one of the guys that had a gap between his front teeth and could really spit accurately and far. On the days when we could not go out to recess, we played games in the classroom. I don't remember any of the games only that there was some form of elimination and I seldom made it to the last few standing. I would digress to reading a book and I was happy to do that.
I think I mentioned the library and my fondness for it. One thing I also remember was that they had a lot of magazine and my Uncle advertised in the Boy Scout magazine. His ad was "Be on top of the World on a Unicycle." Right there was my cousin riding a unicycle. I could always win a bet that my name was in a magazine because of my crazy cousin. We had a unicycle but I never really liked to ride it because a bike was so much faster and I fell down less.
During those years, I played baseball in the Beech Aircraft league. Our first year we were the Meadowlarks and for some reason I hated that name. Through out the year, our losses mounted until it was pretty clear that unless another team didn't show up for a game we would not win a game al year. I started in the outfield but soon won a spot at first base or catcher. I was one of the guys that could almost always catch a ball thrown to or at me and The other first baseman was the alternate catcher. I think the reason I was the catcher at the end of the year was that I could a fair percentage of the time throw out a runner stealing second. I always seemed to get the guys if they tried to steal third. It didn't hurt that one of our pitchers also played third and was really good at catching the ball. The Meadowlarks went in to the tournament at the end of the year with no expectations. For reasons unknown to anyone, we won our first game and moved on down the bracket towards the finals. Our first loss put us in the consolation bracket but the first and second place team in the league had to play each other. They did and by the time the second place team came up against us in the losing bracket, their attitude was poor. We managed to beat them and played the number one team in the finals. Yes, sadly we lost that game but we did have a couple of wins to take us into the next year.
No one really knew how the teams were thrown together but somehow the meadowlarks had changed into the Tigers and we had what looked like real uniforms the next year. We did a lot better and made out way through the season with only a few losses. A lot of that was due to our pitcher growing about 6 inches and gaining control of a curve ball. I had to fetch a lot of the pitches out of the dirt but few got past me. One of the games I did play first base, a batter hit a dribbler up the base line and I charged the ball. I got to the ball fairly fast but the pitcher didn't look like he could cover first base. All I could do was to take the ball and tag the runner as he ran by me. Did I really hit him in the nuts with my fist and the ball? Yep, took him out right then and there. The other coach wanted me thrown out for un sportsman like conduct. When the umpire stopped laughing, he said it was a fair ball and in play.
One of the things the guys in our neighborhood loved was to go on bike rides. We would form up like a miniature band of Hells Angles and go off on our bikes. I remember on one trip, my bike got hard to ride and when we stopped to see what was wrong, I almost couldn't spin the front wheel. The hub was so hot that you could not touch it. Next to the road was a ditch with water in it. I dipped the front wheel in the water and watched as steam came off the wheel. When we managed to get it home. I took it apart to grease the wheel, Needless to say, the ball bearings fell out on the ground and the hub was so bad that I had to replace the entire wheel. I found a wheel in the neighborhood parts pile and rode that sucker until Christmas.
For some reason one year in the like of Luke, Mom decided to let me have a really nice present. I picked out a race bike in the Sear's catalog and Christmas morning there it sat by the Christmas tree. I saved a few dollars that next spring and bought a light kit so I could ride it at night. That bike was one of the nicest things I had ever owned and I rode the heck out of it. Until the day, when I went out of the school and it was gone. Shock of all shocks, someone stole my bike. After asking around the neighborhood, I found out that Billy was riding a new bike that had been painted with house paint. I stopped him and saw that other than the fact he had removed the fenders, it was my bike with a coat of really crappy pink paint on it. I promptly took it away from him and took it home. Even Zip Strip could not return the paint underneath to anything that looked normal. It did take the pink latex paint off but my racing bike looked rode hard and put away wet.
A few days later, my friend across the street had an old bike that he could no longer ride. It looked OK but needed wheels and a seat. We put the two bikes together and mad a pact when we would share it . One day after a couple of weeks, I came home to find that my friend had taken the bike off on a ride and it was my turn to ride it. I found him at one of the neighbor kids house and we got into a fight. My First punch broke his glasses and cut his nose. Fight over and my parents had to pay for a new frame for his glasses, Bummer. That ended the bike share but not our friendship.
Through the grapevine, I heard that there was a new Boy Scout troop going to start meting at the local fire station. The Scoutmaster was the guy that was the headman at the Koch Estate there in Wichita. He was a WWII vet that had a metal plate in his head. He was a really good guy and helped us in a lot of ways we didn't even know until later. The first thing he did was get the Marine Corps to donate some used sleeping bags to us because none of us had any real gear. He also got some second hand tents and we were on our way to being campers. That next summer we set up a fruit stand and managed to make enough money to outfit ourselves with a trailer and cooking utensils. When it came time to go to camp the next year, Mr. Koch offered to pay our way but the troop leader wanted us to earn our way. We worked a lot of days at the Koch Estate bucking hay and cleaning the flower beds. Come time for camp, we all had enough money to pay our way and a few bucks for some extras. For that reason and that reason only, the name Koch has never been a bad thing to me.
Back to the girls. It was a hoot to hear the other guys talk about girls and what they wanted to do with them. Between all of us, we had no idea what really happened other than hugs and kisses. Some of the guys had had the talk with their days but even then without training aids or pornography, there was no way we had any idea what really happened or how much fun it would be somewhere out in the future. If life was a mystery, girls were a mystery wrapped in stupidity and ignorance.
For the most part, the fifth and sixth grade evolved into the Junior High. Minneha had Kindergarten through the ninth grade all there in one school complex. Moving on to Junior High next installment.
LUKE
Minneha, Minneha, Yea, Yea, Yea
At the end of summer, my sisters went off to school and I had no idea what they did or even where "School" was. We lived far enough from Minneha that I really never went there even to play on the playground equipment. I did learn that the new kid across the street had a mother that was a teacher and his dad was head custodian at the school. I lived next door to the kindergarten teacher but she was a lot like a really friendly aunt not a teacher. In fact, if things really got slow around our house, Carrie Longhoffer was always good for a graham cracker now and then.
I can remember the first day of school, one of my sisters walked me to the kindergarten room. There was Mrs. Longhoffer and it kind of surprised me. What startled me was that the kid that lived only a couple of doors to the north of us cried when he was dropped off. Ernie Gary was way beyond scared even when I went over and reminded him that just a couple of days earlier we had gone over to Mrs. Longhoffer's house to mooch graham crackers. Oh well, he finally did calm down. I would have never had cried and things moved on smartly. I remember having a ratty old rug that we napped on. I think the dog used it between the time my sisters used it and I took it to school.
When I started Kindergarten, the new Elementary school was still under construction. The classroom we were in was over in the "Old Building" and down at the end of the hall. I remember it was filled with lots of things to do and had the numbers and alphabet in the tile. For some reason, we listened to Bozo the Clown on records as one of the activities. Between that, graham crackers with milk and naps, each day flew by fast. Did I mention that I went pretty much full bore and could drop off to sleep at a moment's notice. My mother said I could go over and put my butt against the wall and start sliding down to a sitting position and be asleep before my butt hit the ground. The good thing was that there was no Ritalin back then, only a good spanking now and then. Yes, you could (and I did) get my butt paddled at school. Most of the time I swallowed the punishment and didn't tell my parents as I could count on another round of spankings if I told on myself.
When we started the first grade, we were in the new Elementary school. It was so new that everything smelled. From the paint to the flooring, there was this new smell that filled our world. In fact, there was these support poles in the cafeteria that were wrapped in some sort of vinyl that made them look like elephant legs. They stunk to high heaven from either the material in them or the glue that held them to the pole. It was a daily challenge for the boys to go by one of them and sniff them until you were so grossed out that you could no longer stand the smell. I would win that challenge a lot. Perhaps I too didn't smell all that great back then. I do remember that one day I took off early to go to school and one of my sisters came and took me home to put on clean clothes. I looked OK to me but I Didn't pass the big sister appearance test.
The one thing I can remember that stood out to me the most was that a lot of the other first graders were just dumb. Not stupid, but uneducated. My sisters had read to me a lot and I went to school being able to read. I can remember showing the other first graders that I could read way beyond the level of Dick and Jane and their stupid dog spot. Other than that, I don't remember a lot about the academics of the early grades. I would read the class books and then put them away to not open them unless I was made to do so. To this day, I don't like to read books for the second time.
For reasons I will never know, even though Minneha was not a Christian school, we did the whole gamut of things to start our day. We pledged allegiance to the flag, said the lords prayer, and put on our golden gloves (Do unto others before they do it to you - or something like that) We even sang the doxology prior to eating. Praise God from who all blessings flow, Praise him, God and heavenly Ghost. I don't remember it doing us any harm, or good for that matter.
For some strange reason, the library was over in the other building. We would once a week line up and do our imitations of ducks going over there. I loved the library and all the new books I could check out and read. I wasn't all that fond of the Dewey Decimal system other than I knew where all the autobiographies were. I read about every General that ever won or lost a war. Going to the Library was what caused me to quit school. One day we lined up and started over to the library. The teacher stopped us about half way between the buildings and told us to be quiet. "The next person talking will be sent back to the classroom!" Less than a minute later, she stopped the class and she said, "Luke, I warned you, go back to the classroom." No amount of protest could dissuade her that I had not made a sound. I went back but I warned her that I would not be there when she got back. I walked back into the class room and promptly walked home. I firmly told my mother that I had quit school and wasn't going back. Wrong! I don't remember how many days I had to stay in from recess over that little fiasco.
Another time I got into trouble was when as I walked down the hall with my nose stuck in a book, one of my friends, Jesse walked right into me. He had been walking backwards and I was lost in literature. It was like an original scene from Dumb and Dumber. There was no real harm done to either of us but his teacher came up and grabbed me by the ear. I hit her hand away and told her flat out that she had no reason or right to grab my ear. Oh shit oh dear was I ever in trouble over that one. I had to go to the office and remain there until Mom came by to bail me out of purgatory. Everyone agreed that grabbing my ear was wrong but hitting a teacher's hand was a sin not a mortal one but bad enough that I had to spend several days in the office during recess and after school.
One of the highlights of school was time spent with Mrs. Holloway the music teacher. She had a room full of instruments and those of us that could sing did so and those that could not were given something to play rhythm with. My family always sang when we got together and I sang my butt off. I think I started singing in the first grade and sang the whole rest of my school time.
The early grades flew on by with only a few disruptions. The new school had coat closets that had a large gap between the bottom and top of the door. One teacher had the bright idea that putting me in the closet was a suitable form of punishment. What she didn't know was that a lot of the rich kids would bring their lunch and there were always goodies to be had. Yes, I learned that you can eat an apple core and all to hide the evidence. I am sure that some of the kids wondered why they had just a cheese sandwich. A good slice of ham would just hit the spot. am fairly sure that My missions were never completely discovered but all at once the punishment of the closet stopped.
I never was interested in grades. It was a shock when in the fourth grade I got my first report card with a lot of D's. I am not sure that I got D's because I was not that stupid or if the teachers didn't want to get me back again if I failed a grade. I remember the teacher at the end of the year announcing that someone was not going on to the fifth grade. Oh crap, I failed the fourth grade and how was I going to ever explain that to Mom. Then the teacher laughed and told us that the only one not going on to the fifth grade was her. What a dirty trick to play on such an impressionable youth.
Tomorrow I will move on to the fifth grade.
LUKE
I can remember the first day of school, one of my sisters walked me to the kindergarten room. There was Mrs. Longhoffer and it kind of surprised me. What startled me was that the kid that lived only a couple of doors to the north of us cried when he was dropped off. Ernie Gary was way beyond scared even when I went over and reminded him that just a couple of days earlier we had gone over to Mrs. Longhoffer's house to mooch graham crackers. Oh well, he finally did calm down. I would have never had cried and things moved on smartly. I remember having a ratty old rug that we napped on. I think the dog used it between the time my sisters used it and I took it to school.
When I started Kindergarten, the new Elementary school was still under construction. The classroom we were in was over in the "Old Building" and down at the end of the hall. I remember it was filled with lots of things to do and had the numbers and alphabet in the tile. For some reason, we listened to Bozo the Clown on records as one of the activities. Between that, graham crackers with milk and naps, each day flew by fast. Did I mention that I went pretty much full bore and could drop off to sleep at a moment's notice. My mother said I could go over and put my butt against the wall and start sliding down to a sitting position and be asleep before my butt hit the ground. The good thing was that there was no Ritalin back then, only a good spanking now and then. Yes, you could (and I did) get my butt paddled at school. Most of the time I swallowed the punishment and didn't tell my parents as I could count on another round of spankings if I told on myself.
When we started the first grade, we were in the new Elementary school. It was so new that everything smelled. From the paint to the flooring, there was this new smell that filled our world. In fact, there was these support poles in the cafeteria that were wrapped in some sort of vinyl that made them look like elephant legs. They stunk to high heaven from either the material in them or the glue that held them to the pole. It was a daily challenge for the boys to go by one of them and sniff them until you were so grossed out that you could no longer stand the smell. I would win that challenge a lot. Perhaps I too didn't smell all that great back then. I do remember that one day I took off early to go to school and one of my sisters came and took me home to put on clean clothes. I looked OK to me but I Didn't pass the big sister appearance test.
The one thing I can remember that stood out to me the most was that a lot of the other first graders were just dumb. Not stupid, but uneducated. My sisters had read to me a lot and I went to school being able to read. I can remember showing the other first graders that I could read way beyond the level of Dick and Jane and their stupid dog spot. Other than that, I don't remember a lot about the academics of the early grades. I would read the class books and then put them away to not open them unless I was made to do so. To this day, I don't like to read books for the second time.
For reasons I will never know, even though Minneha was not a Christian school, we did the whole gamut of things to start our day. We pledged allegiance to the flag, said the lords prayer, and put on our golden gloves (Do unto others before they do it to you - or something like that) We even sang the doxology prior to eating. Praise God from who all blessings flow, Praise him, God and heavenly Ghost. I don't remember it doing us any harm, or good for that matter.
For some strange reason, the library was over in the other building. We would once a week line up and do our imitations of ducks going over there. I loved the library and all the new books I could check out and read. I wasn't all that fond of the Dewey Decimal system other than I knew where all the autobiographies were. I read about every General that ever won or lost a war. Going to the Library was what caused me to quit school. One day we lined up and started over to the library. The teacher stopped us about half way between the buildings and told us to be quiet. "The next person talking will be sent back to the classroom!" Less than a minute later, she stopped the class and she said, "Luke, I warned you, go back to the classroom." No amount of protest could dissuade her that I had not made a sound. I went back but I warned her that I would not be there when she got back. I walked back into the class room and promptly walked home. I firmly told my mother that I had quit school and wasn't going back. Wrong! I don't remember how many days I had to stay in from recess over that little fiasco.
Another time I got into trouble was when as I walked down the hall with my nose stuck in a book, one of my friends, Jesse walked right into me. He had been walking backwards and I was lost in literature. It was like an original scene from Dumb and Dumber. There was no real harm done to either of us but his teacher came up and grabbed me by the ear. I hit her hand away and told her flat out that she had no reason or right to grab my ear. Oh shit oh dear was I ever in trouble over that one. I had to go to the office and remain there until Mom came by to bail me out of purgatory. Everyone agreed that grabbing my ear was wrong but hitting a teacher's hand was a sin not a mortal one but bad enough that I had to spend several days in the office during recess and after school.
One of the highlights of school was time spent with Mrs. Holloway the music teacher. She had a room full of instruments and those of us that could sing did so and those that could not were given something to play rhythm with. My family always sang when we got together and I sang my butt off. I think I started singing in the first grade and sang the whole rest of my school time.
The early grades flew on by with only a few disruptions. The new school had coat closets that had a large gap between the bottom and top of the door. One teacher had the bright idea that putting me in the closet was a suitable form of punishment. What she didn't know was that a lot of the rich kids would bring their lunch and there were always goodies to be had. Yes, I learned that you can eat an apple core and all to hide the evidence. I am sure that some of the kids wondered why they had just a cheese sandwich. A good slice of ham would just hit the spot. am fairly sure that My missions were never completely discovered but all at once the punishment of the closet stopped.
I never was interested in grades. It was a shock when in the fourth grade I got my first report card with a lot of D's. I am not sure that I got D's because I was not that stupid or if the teachers didn't want to get me back again if I failed a grade. I remember the teacher at the end of the year announcing that someone was not going on to the fifth grade. Oh crap, I failed the fourth grade and how was I going to ever explain that to Mom. Then the teacher laughed and told us that the only one not going on to the fifth grade was her. What a dirty trick to play on such an impressionable youth.
Tomorrow I will move on to the fifth grade.
LUKE
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
In the Beginning
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| Politicians are like diapers, they can smell and need changed often |
Luke was the middle child of a pack of kids in his family. He had a couple of older sisters and a younger brother. The first group of kids were pre WWI and it was about 5 years later when Luke arrived on the scene. I am not sure why his mother waited another five years to have another child but if it was an accident, it was a happy accident. When you stood up the rest of the kids, they seemed pretty normal and only Luke stood out like a wild child.
On the east side of Wichita, was the Beech Aircraft plant on east central. Someone with a little foresight build a small neighborhood and called it Travel Air City. For many reasons, explained later, it became known as Dog Patch as in the Al Capp funny paper city. The salvation for the kids in that poor neighborhood was that they were blessed to have about the best school money could buy at the time. Minneha was supported by a tax base from Forrest Hills and Eastborough which had more Doctors and Lawyers living there than any other part of the city. As the number of kids increased, the school district did not hesitate to expand the size and number of buildings as the student population grew.
Yep, you can bet your sweet ass that the diversity of the students was crazy. There were kids that had parents that shopped at specialty stores and a lot of us that were lucky to get our fall wardrobe out of the Sear's catalog. Luke's mother kept her Sear's card charged pretty full and by that, she managed to put clothes on the backs of the family. Oh, no, Luke didn't care one iota what he wore growing up. As long as it didn't smell too bad, he would throw it on and go anywhere so long as it was out.
You cannot imagine the number of kids the baby boom dumped in Dog Patch. When they would have a baseball game, the number of outfielders was huge. If the ball was hit out there, fights would often break out as someone would try to pick up the ball and throw it to the infield. There was no such thing as enough baseball gloves for everyone. In fact both teams had to share what gloves there were. For some reason we had enough bats but a lot of them were pretty marked up from hitting rocks. Back then, fights were pretty much hand to hand combat and no one used bats to do battle with the other kids.
One funny thing was the lack of baseballs. It seems that almost every other week, the cover would come off some old ball and we would play until it no longer was anything we could use. The cry would go out that we needed to round up pop bottles and sell them at the local Grocery store to get at least a dollar. Nugene's father was the coach of a ball team in the Sherriff's League. As such, they were required to furnish used balls and one new ball at every game. His mother kept the balls in the Freezer because that was the only place she could lock. We would always get together a dollar in change and send Nugene home to buy a new ball. I would have been happy with a used ball for half price but they never seemed to be willing to let an of them go. For some reason, I always thought that those frozen baseballs were really cool, not cold but neat.
Luke had several friends that he was close to and none much closer than Joe. For some reason his parents went to the Catholic Hospital and his name on the birth certificate was Joseph. Sure, Luke and Joseph were names out of the Bible and no one wanted to be called Joseph when Joe would do. Luke was just stuck even though he wanted to be called Jessie James. No, he could never explain that one, he just thought that it was a cool name. His other friends were Old Gene, Denny and sometimes Wayne. Did you catch the Old Gene name, that was the reason for Nugene. Denny's nickname was "ding ding." When Denny's mother wanted her boys to come home, she would got right outside the front door and ring a bell like a ship's bell. If she wanted Gary to come home she would slowly ring the bell one beat at a time. Ding, ding, ding until she saw the whited of his eyes. If she wanted Denny, she would ring the bell twice and then pause. "Ding, ding, pause, ding, ding and pause. If she came out ad just rang the bell over and over, we all ran home.
Back in the day, there was no central AC in most of our houses. The kids were sent out to play from the time they were able to walk until they left home. Those that lived on Byrd Street had the Beech Aircraft parking lot lights that illuminated our backyards. In the summer time, the games of hide and go seek and kick the can went on until the kids were called home by their mothers or the after the parking lot lights went off after 12:15 AM. Living right there on Byrd, Luke's friends spent a lot of time at his house. All sorts of mischief was invented there by those fertile minds.
One thing that almost everyone in the neighborhood had was a bicycle. Luke's first ne was one that his sisters rode and the only reason that he could ride it was that it was a girl's bike and it didn't have the bar from the handlebar to the seat support. Luke would have crushed his nuts on one of those. As it was, unhappy accidents were pretty common and Luke always had a bandage somewhere.
Oh well, I had better cut this first installment somewhere and this looks like as good a place as any. Tomorrow will be school at Minneha.
LUKE
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