School days

Bibbyman · August 01, 2002, 09:29:30 AM

Me, Harry and Kathy were the last class to graduate from the 8'th grade at the Harring Elementary School. That was in the spring of 63. This one room school was one of the last to be "consolidated" in the state. Although the school probably had as many as fifty kids attending at one time in it's 100-year history, it would have only had five the next year if it remained open. (What was that district today would likely have school age kids in the hundreds.)

By today's standards it is hard to imagine. We still didn't have running water. Two "outhouses" served for basic sanitation. Water was pumped from a cistern filled from runoff from the roof. The pump was a typical hand crank affair using a chain with suckers on it. About once a year the chain would break and Uncle Norman would have to come down with a rope and grapple hook to fish it out and fix the break. The Board of Health started snooping around and advised we add some bleach to the water every so often to kill the bugs. On one of their visits, they really got bent out of shape when they noted someone's old hound dowg raised his leg to pee on the pump. They made us cut a second door in the back of the school for a fire escape. Why? The whole building was only about 20 x 30 and only one room but "rules is rules".

The only playground equipment was a teeter-totter for a long time but it didn't always have the boards. Then they added a swing set made from used pipe by one of the board members. Odd, these two items you'll not see on a playground today were the only ones we had. I've still got a scar under my chin from a teeter-totter board that flew up and got me.

The entire sports program budget was spent at the beginning of the year - one new bat and softball. By the end of fall, the bat would be broken or at least badly pitted from using it to hit rocks out of the parking lot. Wouldn't take long before the ball would be lost in the weeds across the road and not found again until after the first snow melted. (playground was the parking lot and driveway.) It would swell about 50% and soon the string would break holding the cover on. It was always a special treat to be the one to hit it and see the cover fly off.

We played games like, Annie-over, Red-rover, Mumbley-peg (all the boys carried pocketknives - that was a given) and in the winter, Fox-n-goose. We never had enough kids to play baseball but we played "Rotation". Rotation is where the batter would bat until out then he'd go to the outfield and the outfielder would come in to third base and so on thus advancing the pitcher to his turn to bat.

I was there to witness the Davy Crocket fad of wearing the coonskin cap. I even had one. For a month, all we did at recess was do the leg wrestle thing made popular by the movie. Then the hula-hoop came out.

We only had one teacher and she was paid $50 extra for the school year to do the janitorial work but she'd pay one of the bigger kids a quarter to put down cedar sawdust with oil in it and sweep the place out once a week.

No Special Ed, no PE teachers, no counselors, etc. And nobody "rode the little bus". Older kids would tutor the younger kids and for some older kids, it was a needed review. In fact, nobody rode a bus. Most walked to school. A few were brought or picked up by parents on bad weather days. I lived about a mile away and from about the third grade on, I had a key to the door and would arrive about a half-hour early to light the oil-fired stove to warm the building before others arrived. The teacher was usually the last to arrive.

I started right in at the first grade there as there was not a kindergarten program. I learned my numbers, letters and read Tip and Mitten, Dick and Jane, etc. I can remember the first time the teacher asked me to read a page in our reader that didn't have a picture. I broke down in tears because I knew I couldn't read a whole page without a picture. I did though. :P

Oh yea, one other thing you probably won't find in today's schools. Each morning an "upper classman" would run the flag up the pole and we'd all stand facing it and say the Pledge of Allegiance. At the end of the school day, a couple of us would take it down, fold it and put it away. I always thought it an honor and that's where I learned how to fold the flag and never let it hit the ground.

J Beyer · August 02, 2002, 05:04:11 PM

Taking a pocketknife to school today could land you in Juvi :( >:( for the sake of teaching you not to bring weapons to school. And to think that somewhere in Alaska you might need to be packing heat if you walk to school.

woodman · August 02, 2002, 08:18:40 PM

A lot of things change but we still don't let the flag land on the ground

J Beyer · August 03, 2002, 11:48:06 AM

By packing heat I mean to use it as protection from wild animals.

JB

Frank_Pender · August 03, 2002, 02:05:14 PM

The year was 1951, if my memory has not failed me at this meoment. I was in the first grade in Wilkes Grade School, locate about 10 miles East of Portland, Oregon, upstream and near the Columbia River. the site was right on the Oregon Trail coming down the banks of the river. the schol had actually be started by a man named Wilkes, in 1852.
From my classroom I could see the Columbia and the main East/West RR line of Northern Pacific. For some of you young'ns there was a War going on about this time that had many of of kids scared to death, here on the Pacific Coast. The talk with the adults was dealing with the "Red Chinese" flying right up the River and bombing the Bonniville and Grand Coolee Dams. We were having air raid shelter practices at least one a week at our school. :'( Each siren length meant differing amounts of time to get to cover. The shortest of course was to get under our desks and cover our heads, second was out in the hall and in a fetile position at the wall and floor. The longest was to head for the basement and the Civil Defense storage facilities. I had finally gotten tired of the practices one day and simply told my teacher, Mrs. Nye that, "I was not coming to school the day they drop the bombs!" :P :'(

Bibbyman · August 05, 2002, 12:40:17 PM

You know, considering my early education, it's a wonder that I can support my family, myself and make a positive contribution to the world. So obtuse to the current Politically Correct public school system and social engineering was my education and upbringing, surely I would have failed in life somehow - maybe even rendered to a ward of the state.

We didn't have special classes to teach us tolerance to others. But we learned boys didn't hit girls. And we had classes on how to introduce people - gentleman to gentleman or lady to lady, gentleman to lady in what order, etc. Never extend you hand to a lady unless she extended her hand first. Rise when a lady enters a room. Open the door for a lady and let her enter first. When walking down the street, the lady walks on the inside. Take you hat off when you enter someone's home or being introduced to a lady or when you set down to a table to eat. All kinds of useless junk like that.

We had a Christmas Pageant with Christmas songs - not Holiday Season Celebrations programs with no reference to any religion. No wonder I'm so warped I don't even have a tattoo or nose ring.

I'm such a deviate that I wave at Highway Patrolmen when we meet on the highways. This was a habit I picked up from Dad. I asked him once why he waved at them and he said (at that time) most were veterans of WWII and Korea war and it was just showing some respect for their continued public service. Dad influenced me in other ways too - like it was my responsibility to provide for and protect my family.

If I had to pass a P.C. test, I would fail miserably. Just blame it on my early schooling.

Bro. Noble · August 05, 2002, 01:13:17 PM

Bibb,

I started out in the rural one-room schools and later moved to town and finished in a very large HS. I tend to have warped ideas similiar to yours, maybe more so because I also taught in both rural and city schools.

After seeing what went on in the name of education (both good and bad) I returned to the Univ. to get a Masters in Education.

I did a Curriculum and Instruction class by special problem. It amounted to writing a paper on the foolishness that takes place in the classroom in the name of education. I picked the topic.

The Professor asked to see my rough draft before I proceeded. I had several stories from my childhood, College days, and teaching about valuable lessons learned (often from the students) and time and lives wasted.

The professor ate it up! Told me to foot note it and type it up.
Since it had been so long since I had been in school, he asked if I remembered how to do foot notes. I told him I hadn't done that before except in a HS College prep English class-----never had to do it working on a BS and probably would never need to do it in the future.

He told me it probably wouldn't be necessary to footnote it, to just type it up and give it to him.

I told him I was awfully rusty at typing, but maybe my wife could if she could get the time.

He said "Hell, give me that *DanG thing and I'll photocopy it"

He returned my penciled copy with all the corrections and scratched out words the next week, It had an A on it.

I think maybe he learned something about education.

I had a lot more fun working on my masters than I did my BS because I had learned some of the things that were important and I wasn't intimidated by the allknowing.

Noble

CHARLIE · August 05, 2002, 07:59:32 PM

Bibbyman, Tom and I learned those same things. Plus, make sure you walk down stairs in front of the lady or upstairs behind them. Address all adults or your seniors by Mr. and last name or Mrs. and last name. We never called an adult by their first name. At IBM some of the women called me a Southern Gentleman just because I always opened the doors for them. I remember when I was on a business trip in New York back in the early '80s and after work went to a Macy's Dept Store just to see what it was like. As I approached the door, I saw a black lady coming towards the door, so I opened it and let her go first. She stopped and said to me, "Thank you, I've never had anyone open a door for me before." That made me feel good, but it was sad to hear that manners don't seem to be taught anymore.

Tom · August 05, 2002, 08:03:30 PM

I opened the door for the old timers that I ate with last Tuesday and before I could finally get into the resturant they had already ordered, paid and were waiting for me. I had to stand in line. :-/

J Beyer · August 05, 2002, 10:12:17 PM

My nother and a few aunts and uncles went to the same one-room school, called Hams (Hamms?) School. At the time about 4, maybe 5, attended the school at the same time. No one ever gave them any crap because if they did they would have to deal with the rest of the family.

When I remember to, I also open the door for others regardless of age. Just to show kindness and respect to people of alll ages. It's those automatic doors that have diminished some of society's manners. It also does not hurt a gentleman's chances with a lady when he opens the car door for her when he's driving.

JB

Paul_H · August 06, 2002, 12:11:13 AM

I was taught manners by my parents,by word,and by their actions.I remember walking back from the General Store with my Mum,and two younger sisters when we were small.A hearse,and funeral procession came up the road toward us.Mum told us to stop,and look away and bow our heads in respect.I still do,if I'm walking or driving.I stop.

I have had my Mum's women friends tell me to call them by their first name,now that I am an adult.I have to say sorry,but it doesn't seem right.I have no problem calling their husbands by their first name.
We had to wait our turn to speak,never started eating till the lady of the house sat down and picked up her fork.

Speaking of forks,if you ever wanted one in the arm or hand,try reaching across the table for something instead of saying "please pass the..."

Bibbyman · August 06, 2002, 06:22:24 AM

I worked for years with a guy that was brought up in New York State. We were talking one day and don't know how it came up but he started snickering. It came out that one day he was in New York City and was going into a bank when a lady ahead of him caught her high-heel in the air grate in the doorway and fell flat. He said he didn't think much of it until later but his reaction was just to step over her and let her struggle by herself. He said he remembered feeling annoyed that she fell in his way.

I'd like to think he felt bad about it later. :'(

CHARLIE · August 06, 2002, 09:09:06 AM

What an ingrate that guy was. >:( I don't care who it is, elderly, child, man, woman, boy or girl, if I see someone fall I stop to help and see if they are OK. It doesn't take much effort to be nice to others. I have no time for people that would not help someone that fell. >:( And I'd tell them so. Some people are in such a hurry they don't want to "get involved" to help someone because it might take some of their time. >:(

Tom · August 06, 2002, 09:21:38 AM

Did you know that the most valuable gift you can give to someone is "your Time"? Go visit someone instead of calling on the phone, offer a hand, have a cup of coffee, take them to lunch, brag on them a little. He'll remember you a lot longer than if you buy him a tie and send it in the mail.

Haytrader · August 06, 2002, 02:54:44 PM

I was holding the door to a Burger King for my wife earlier this summer and noticed an elderly gentleman looking cautiously at a section of sidewalk that was under repair. He had a cane but I could see he was worried about the uneven surface. I offered him an arm to hang on to which he gladly accepted. He was so grateful and told me he had recently undergone hip replacement and was afraid he would fall.

Just a couple of weeks ago an act of kindness was bestowed on me. I had stopped for gas at a busy convienence store and was headed inside to pay. There was a football player type college age black boy headed in in front of me. To my surprise, he waited on me and held the door for me. I thanked him and then when inside, I found myself in front of him in line. I offered to let him go ahead of me but he replied with a smile "You were here first". Upon returning to the car, I told my wife and son what had happened and made the statement that the boy had been raised to have manners. My son opens doors and he gets pleasure from the thank yous and the strange looks he gets.

Brian_Bailey · August 07, 2002, 06:56:16 AM

Hey Bibbyman, not all New Yorkers are like the jerk you worked with. Most of us are warm, friendly and have manners. Get away from the urban areas of NY especially NYC and you'll find some real decent folks. Yes, there are rural areas in NYS

. Brian ... from western NY.

Bibbyman · August 07, 2002, 07:16:37 AM

For sure. I've flown into NYC and traveled "up state". Two different worlds. The guy I mentioned was raised "up state" on a farm. I think he was educated or for some other reason spent his early adult years in NYC. As I remember, his confession of stepping over the fallen lady was an example of how easily it is to become callous in NYC.

Mary had an occasion to attend a training thing in NYC. She and another lady were walking down the sidewalk when she spotted a homeless man digging through a trashcan. She thought he was looking for aluminum cans. As she happened to have an empty one, she just stopped and offered it to him. He said, "Thank you." and took it from her. It was then she realized he was not looking for cans, he was urinating in the trashcan and started using the can she gave him as a container for his actions. But... he was polite! :

Tom · August 07, 2002, 03:19:29 PM

"Ma'am, your cart's on my foot and it hurts".

Norm · August 08, 2002, 06:53:08 AM

When I was in first grade the teachers were just a little on the strict side. Most seemed to us to be over 70, although they most likely were not.

The one I got was the worst of them all, we had three different 1st grade teachers. One of the other kids kept asking to use the restroom but was told he'd just have to wait until recess. We'll sure enough he couldn't hold it and wet his pants. The teacher was so mad she made him sit there until recess. We moved to a different farm that summer and guess who my new neighbor was, her.

CHARLIE · August 08, 2002, 08:18:53 AM

When Tom and I attended Georgia Military College, we had a Commandant named Major Kemp. He ruled with an iron fist and gave out the punishments for rule infractions. I used to get to go to his office a lot.:-/ We always thought he was old then, but when Tom and I went to our 25th reunion back in '87, he was asked how hold he was back in the early 60's and he replied that he was in his mid 30's. Now, to me, mid 30's seems very young. ;D

ARKANSAWYER · August 08, 2002, 09:04:41 AM

At about the ripe ole age of 6 Grandpa took me to play dominoes and the local pool hall in town. This was a very special event as Grandma frowned on this for some reason. Walking up the street we met a Lady and Grandpa tipped his old hat and said "Mornin' Madam". As we walked pass he promply slapped me in the back of the head and told me next time I had better do like wise and not embarrass him again. I still feel it today.
ARKANSAWYER

Jeff · August 08, 2002, 10:50:11 AM

There is a first Time for everything.

This thread was heavily edited by me. Messages deleted and portions of messages deleted. Sorry to step on anyones toes but this thread was going in a direction that was not in the character of this website and I refuse to allow it.

Arkansawyer thank you for putting this thread back on track

Bibbyman · August 09, 2002, 06:12:02 AM

Thanks Jeff, Just glad you didn't draw some circles on the blackboard and have us stand with our noses stuck in them.

At Herring school everything was simpler and clear. One time me, Harry and Robert got caught doing something we wasn't suppose to do. I can't even remember what we did but I sure can remember the punishment!

Mrs. Underwood sentenced us to 10 whacks each from her heavy yardstick. Harry got his first and she gave him the full measure. While he danced around rubbing his behind and trying not to cry, :'( I got my turn. :-[ But something happened about midway. About 6" of the end of the yardstick broke off and went flying across the floor. Before she was done, another foot or so broke off and she lightened up on her blows. Come Robert's turn, he got about three light swats and it was all over.

I don't know if the spanking me and Harry got took the wind out of her or the breaking of the yardstick made her slack off or what. Could have been she figured that Robert was a couple years younger than me and Harry so he was more likely just an accomplice in the crime - not one of the ring leaders.

CHARLIE · August 09, 2002, 12:15:17 PM

Once in 7th Grade after our Physical Education class, we had showered and were getting dressed when ... 2, 9th grade boys grabbed me, dragged me to the showers and turned the shower on. Made me madder than a....than a wet hen!!

So, I called them an Esso Bee. Coach Garrett heard about it from some tattletale and the next day he had the three of us in his office (we were wearing our gym shorts at the time and not much for protection). We all explained our case and he decided we all would get 3 whacks with his "board of education", which was a 1" X 4" X 3' board with a handle carved on one end. We had to bend over and grab our ankles. Sheeeesh! That hurt. I had a red butt for a week. :-/ :-/ ;D

Bibbyman · August 10, 2002, 07:23:53 AM

Forest Russell's wife Ivy May was a sister to Dad's older brother John's wife Dorothy. That made their son Dwain, who was a couple of years older then me, and daughter Gloria, a couple of years younger than me, almost my cousins. The whole neighborhood was pretty much related somehow like this.

Anyway, it was always interesting to visit the Russell's as they were always making something. HE had a workshop with a bench and vice and tools. I was very impressed with that. Forest was quite the craftsman. He made Dad a wooden johnboat. I was shown a fiddle he had made. He had also made long bows and the arrows to go with them. He made the points from "church keys" by flattening them out and shaping them and riveting a short piece of copper tube the cutting edge. He also made a cross bow using what I remember was a buggy seat spring for the bow. What was really strange was that he had built-in a box magazine for the bolts.

Dwain was always showing me something. He'd make knives out of bastard files, rings out of horseshoe nails and silver dimes. When I was about 10, he showed me how to jump off the roof of the house without killing myself or breaking a leg. I never got hurt but Mom's got a heart condition to this day.

One other thing Dwain showed me how to make was a slingshot. Not the rubber band on a forked stick like Dennis the Menace carried in his back pocket – although I've made more than a few of those. But one made of two long cords and a pocket that you placed a rock in and swung around and released the end on one cord letting the rock go flying. Over time I made several out of heavy leather shoelaces and the soft tongue part of an old boot.

The state had finally put in an improved road right up to the intersection where the school stood. It was paved with chat about the size of ice cubes. I must have thrown a truckload of it away for them. I got to where I could hit pretty good. It's amazing how hard and far you can throw a rock with one of them. An odd shaped one would put out a low drone sound as it flew away and a "Kahwack" as it hit an oak tree across the road. I could hit the "End of State Maintenance" sign across the road too but it made too much noise not to get into trouble for hitting it.

I showed lots of the boys in school how to make them (handing down the knowledge) and showed them how to use them. But they never stuck to it like I did. They thought the longer you swung the rock around, the further it would fly. I found just one hard flip was all it took. They must of liked the swinging part best because they never adopted the one swing style I had.

The slingshot interest lasted a couple of school years off and on. Never broke a window or drew blood so I guess I was somewhat responsible – I guess.