TEACHERS, PADDLES, WET PANTS & MORE ~ PART I

EDITOR’S NOTE: The last blog post generated a lot of comments from the guys. Since I am not sure how many of you read the “Comments” on the blog, I thought you might like to read some of the emails I’ve received . First I received the following from JIM COWLISHAW:

"Times have changed. I remember growing up also in a family that considered the *colored* families a different class. We had a couple of folks that helped us. One was a grand old woman that helped mother with the kids and housework. I was really young, about four or five, we called her n***Polly. Her husband helped dad round the house. We called him n***Jessie. What a put down, now that I recall. Wasn't that a shame?

When I was moved to Winters, I had two black men working in the lumber yard. R.L. Johnson and Lewis Johnson. They were paid $100 a month. This was 1971. After I got the feel of the operation, I was to report the changes that should be made to make the operation productive. One, and the first request, was to double their salary. This caused some concern with the upper management, but was allowed. I told them that these two men were so poor and downbeaten that they couldn't even look for other work. I recall going into the back room of the cafe, having coffee with R.L. because he was not allowed in the front.

Times have changed, my upbringing taught me to look down on these folks, and it is a daily reminder to change.

Good work on the blog. Good things are happening. Thanks!"...JIM

EDITOR: I replied to JIM that it took a lot of good people committing acts like his that helped create the United States we live in today. Thanks, JIM, for being conscientious during a time that it was not popular to do so. Especially in small town Texas.

Somehow, some of you have had memories of your elementary school days surface ,and started an ongoing dialogue. I am posting the first of these now. Believe me when I say, there are more to come! If any of you wish to join them, and share your childhood memories of going to school in Ballinger, please feel free to do so.

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JAMES HAYS sent the following email:
“Great to hear of IRENE's progress and good news. Perhaps our prayers have been answered. I know that it has been a tough row to hoe, and I know that Irene must be relieved. About ten years ago, I got word from medical news channels that now (then) over 50% of malignancies had been cured and that’s excluding skin cancer. (I fix one of these every month or so and that’s on a part-time basis.) I hope Irene will continue to heal and stay in that top 50%.

Good to hear from JUNE and her family. I wish the newlyweds all the happiness.

GLENN, I’m sorry to hear about Neuman Smith. Grider thought a lot of him, and he was a storehouse of information on Runnels County history. Perhaps they are comparing historical notes now and looking down on us and laughing at our feeble efforts.

BILL, give us an update on your broken foot. I hope you heal it up OK. As I told you, my earliest recollection of you was the second grade, and you were stumping around on crutches and braces from polio – so you don’t need too much damage to your legs!” JAMES 

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The following subsequently came in from BILL KING: 

”I agree it is great to hear about IRENE's positive progress in her battle. Isn't it great to live in a time where progress is being made in the treatment of most all cancers? IRENE, do you remember Emmitt Eggemeyer? He remembers you well. I see him and talk with him a couple of times a month and just talked with him tonight. He went through cancer treatment in his mouth about four years ago and is doing fine now. Just as JAMES said, I also hope you stay in that top 50%.

I didn't know Neuman Smith very well, but we never like to hear about the loss of someone's relative. The one thing I do remember about him was him burning up the road at about 30- or 40-mph in his old car that he had for so many years. I think the car was about a 1950 Plymouth, wasn't it GLENN?

My old broken foot is doing great and never hurt as much as I expected. I have ditched the crutches, but will have to wear the boot for another three or so weeks.

JAMES, I think it was the third grade when I had polio and had the braces and crutches. I think it was in Mrs. Williams' class. I had polio in about late August of 1948 and didn't get to go back to school until somewhere around November, just a short time before my tenth birthday. After going back to school I had my own personal servant by the name of JERRY EOFF. JERRY was working on a scout merit badge, so every day just before lunch he would go get my food tray and bring it back to the room for me, and I would eat in the classroom while everyone else went to lunchroom. Thanks to JERRY for his help. Later, as I could walk on the crutches better I would play baseball by batting and having someone run the bases for me. Just enjoyed batting and didn't have to put out all of the effort to run. 

I don't have anything but good memories as to how I was treated by my teachers and classmates during those times.”…BILL KING

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This came in from JERRY EOFF:

“To cousin (she's Shirley's cousin-in-law removed) IRENE: Glad to hear you have the beast on the run.

I suppose I should likewise pass on a good word for our bunch. 

Mother warned me early on that I would likely get some teasing, and (said to) just say that the scar was "from my second operation" whatever that was. I didn't know what she was talking about. However I never had to use the ammunition. I can remember no time in the entire Ballinger school experience that the subject was ever brought up by a classmate, or school mate either. I have talked to and heard about others elsewhere with much different stories. Of course I also had a better "2nd operation" than many. My dad scrubbed in on it. He used to do them at the Shriner Hospital in Dallas.

A pretty good place to grow up and a good bunch to do it with.”…JLE 

P.S. BILL, 'twern't no merit badge involved, just doin' my good turn, daily as it turned out, and felt important to boot. Quite welcome. That bug hit a lot of kids back then and was feared nearly as much as cancer. You happened on a worse dose than many did and not as bad as a few.”…JERRY

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Now it’s GLENN SMITH’S turn to jump in:

“JAMES, thanks for the kind words about Neuman. You too, BILL. ‘Til you reminded me, I had forgotten about Neuman's '50 Plymouth. He always kept it waxed and drove slowly. I think he drove it about 25 years, and that it met some sort of untimely end. 

BILL, I had Mrs. Williams for 2nd grade. She made me sit in the back of the room because I talked too much. Were we in the same class? Hope I didn't get you in trouble. 

I’m so glad you recounted how JERRY brought you lunch. JERRY was such a Zane Grey quiet hero – always doing the right thing, watching and helping out when no one knew.

IRENE, keep getting well and feeling better and better.”…GLENN

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To which BILL KING responded:

“OK, JAMES, JERRY, GLENN, and IRENE, I need for all you to help me shake the cobwebs out of my brain. I went to the first grade in the Blanton country school where we had 8 grades in the one room. DORIS STOKES (WHITE) and I were the only first graders along with a few others scattered across the other grades. DORIS and I had a lot of recess time. Now here is where I need your help. If Mrs. Williams was the second grade teacher, who were the third, fourth and fifth grade teachers? Was Mrs. Loika the third grade teacher? You don't have to remind me who Mrs. Bridwell (spelling?) was! She was the grade school principal that ruled the lunch room by twisting ears. I remember her twisting my ear in the lunch room for talking and I would almost bet that each and every one of you had the same experience. I think it only happened to me once and I thought I had lost an ear so I was very careful from then on. Remember we could not talk a lot at the lunch table except to ask for something to be passed to us and when we did talk it was in a quite voice. Haven't things changed? 

GLENN, I don't know if we were in the same class or not. If you talked too much in Mrs. Williams class I know you received an ear twisting in the lunch room. 

JERRY, you and I had to deal with our own situation that could have been very devastating to either of us if others had chosen to make it so. I guess neither of us gave it a lot of thought since no big deal was made of it. Aren't you grateful we went to a small town school with schoolmates that were understanding? I know I am. GLENN, I agree with you about the type person JERRY is. 

Looking forward to your answers.”…BILL

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JAMES HAYS responds:

“BILL, as I remember it, there were three first, second, and third grade classrooms and we were shuffled like a box of dominoes every year. We only got together at recess or lunch. I don’t remember who I had in the first grade, but I had Mrs. Johnson for the 2nd grade; she advised me to study medicine because of poor handwriting. I finally followed her advice. I think I had Mrs. Loika in the 3rd(?) grade.

I had contracted polio in June 1949, and my dad and I went in the same ambulance to Shannon Hospital, where Grider was convalescing -- all three of us at the same time. Grider came close to dying, but he recovered faster. I missed the first 6 weeks of the fifth grade and went mornings only the second six weeks. I recovered enough that one day that spring I got tired of SANDRA PATTERSON’s pigtails knocking my pencils off of the desk. One Friday, just before school was out, one of her pigtails somehow entered the inkwell. It was a magnificent study in capillary action. She said her mother was not amused. Sandra turned out to be a very attractive lady.”…JAMES

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Then I heard from GLENN SMITH again:

”BILL, I had Miss Dimmer for first grade. I believe that Mrs. Bridwell was not only the Principal but that she also taught first grade. I don't remember getting any ear twist from Mrs. Bridwell, although I do remember fearing her. 

I don't recall who the other first grade teacher was, and I don't remember any of the other pupils in Miss Dimmer's room. One afternoon a month or two before the year ended, we were each to cut out a small figure from a page in our workbooks and paste it onto a spot on a different page. I had my cutout on the desk. When I reached for it to do the pasting, it was gone. Of course I should have told Miss Dimmer and I thought about it, got up to go tell her--but fear stopped me. In desperation I decided that since someone had stolen my cutout that I'd steal one. I sneaked one from the desktop of a girl. She did what I should have--she told the teacher, who flew into a tirade of generalized reprimand with an endless commentary about the horrible person who did the unthinkable and unforgivable theft. I was soooo ashamed, wanted to confess and beg for mercy, but it was obvious that would lead to Miss Dimmer's dragging me down the hall to Mrs. Bridwell's office. Rumor had it that the Principal had an enormous paddle--with big holes in it to cut down on drag--that could flatten a grown up. I didn’t breathe easy ‘til the year ended.

(My belated apologies to the classmate whose cutout I swiped. And no hard feelings to the one who took mine.) 

Mrs. Williams in second grade seemed less threatening to me. She did move me to the back of the room, and I believe another boy with me. Then she dragged me by the ear into the hallway and left me there to think about talking in class. She dragged the other boy out also. I keep thinking that was you, BILL, but I am not at all certain that it was. I got taken or sent to the hallway several times that year. 

Third grade was a really bad experience for me. Miss Loika was in her first or second year of teaching. I had ridden the bus during the first and second grades, but at the beginning of third grade, my father drove to town every morning with the milk from about ten cows. He took me to school but only after he left the milk at the creamery. I was late every morning by about ten minutes. "WELL!!!!!!!! Old Grandpa has decided to grace us with his presence," was Miss Loika's loud greeting as I tried to slip into my seat. "We're so glad you decided to join us, Grandpa." Some variant of that comment, in a sarcastic voice, greeted me every morning. That year lasted forever. I so feared Miss Loika that I wet my pants rather than ask to go to the bathroom. I started developing pretend stomachaches after lunch. I walked to my Grandmother's house on 7th street, and enjoyed her stories until late in the afternoon. "Glenn needs to apply himself more" was in the report card comment section nearly every grading period. 

Fourth grade was with Mrs. Caskey, the Superintendent's wife. She saved my life. She approved of me, asked me questions that I knew the answers to, and let me flourish. It was enough to get me through the next thirteen years of schooling. I don't remember much of the fifth and sixth grades or of junior high, except for the commanding figure of Mr. Funderburk. He put on a gruff exterior, but I always thought he was kind and a gentleman. Of course there were some very good teachers in BHS. I got through college on what several of them taught us.

BILL, I remember being with my father at Curt Bedoe's service station in August before third grade. Someone told him about you having polio. I remember feeling scared for you. I was afraid you were not going to make it. I was happy to see you when you finally got back to school. Of course you were quite a figure with your braces and crutches. 

JAMES, I suppose you and I must have met in Miss Loika's room. I was so traumatized that I don't remember.”…GLENN 

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EDITOR'S NOTE: By now I could see these guys were really getting into this trip down memory lane. This is when I asked them if they minded if I posted this lengthy back and forth discussion on the blog. All agreed, except for this humble statement from JERRY EOFF: 

"I'm not sure about exposing my apparent nomination to sainthood to the world on the 'net though". 

BILL KING quickly shot back: 

"Maybe the nomination to sainthood came a little too quickly. I had this vision of 2 or 3 guys lowering the air pressure on a 1955 or so Buick and putting it on the railroad track with success less than expected. Sure glad the Abilene Southern didn't appear on the horizon. Do you recall anything about that incident?"...BK 

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JERRY: “I remember less about that than Ronald Funderburk and me in his Model A. We got about halfway from the 4-mile crossing road of the railroad near GLENN's, and none closer to town before we lost it. Even bounding the ties, I suspect the Abilene Southern Bullet Express would 

never have caught us. I think the Buick ('53 actually) experience was so much a flop that the details escape me. I think we just made a few feet in it, and never even cleared the road??? 

Several things like that, handed down in tales from preceding generations, never seemed to work the way they were presented ~ such as methylene blue and others."...JLE 

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BILL: "I guess I never heard about the Model A incident. 

I don't remember who was the third person with you and me when we had the hair-brained idea to put that Buick on the railroad tracks. I remember letting a little amount of air out of the tires so they would conform to the rails and proceeded to line up for the coming disaster. We were at the first railroad crossing just down the road from the one-mile crossing. The first few feet went well, probably less than 50 feet but it all fell apart. I think we just cleared the louvered cattle guard on the track when the car fell from the rails. That Buick was very heavy and low to the ground and we thought we were stuck. We were able to push and drive the car off of the rails without tearing out the undercarriage and came out of a gate to get back on the road. If the car had fallen off of the rails over the cattle guard area I think we would have waited for the Abilene Southern to remove it.

If our parents had found out about this we would not have lived to write about it."...BILL

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TO BE CONTINUED 

Tell me this is not "good stuff"! 

MARILYN