Someone recently asked me if I moved to Ballinger the first time from Louisiana. No. Actually, in the summer of 1952 my parents divorced and shipped me and my sister Jean off to northern California to live for a while with my mother's dad, his wife, and their three children. We lived in the country surrounded by huge pine trees and beautiful mountains. Mt. Shasta was the largest of these, and the name of the little town in which I started 8th grade.Optimist that I was, I quickly joined a team of cheerleaders and spent two months rehearsing routines for the tryouts. I was very petite, so they had me be the acrobat of our team of five, as I was easy to toss into the air and catch. (Not many cheerleaders did that in those days unless they were at a college level.) The kids in that school tried out by teams rather than individuals. I loved being a part of this school where I had started first grade, when my mother sent us to stay with Granddad for the first time at the end of WWII. We pulled out class photos from first grade and nearly all the original class members still attended.
A week before tryouts, we were informed that my sister and I would be leaving California to join my mother and her new husband in New York state. I was devastated, as were my classmates. The wanderlust in my family's blood would later become something of pattern in my life as well. The plans for our trip across country soon had me filled with excitement. We were going to FLY!! I was 12 years old and Jean was 10, and we were flying alone. I was so naive that I made promises to all my classmates that when we flew over the school I would throw notes to them from the plane!
The first leg of our trip was from some airport around Mt. Shasta to San Francisco. This was a very small prop plane, and I remember my ears popping. When we got to SF, we had several hours to spend in the huge airport. As the oldest, I was responsible for listening to the announcements that would let me know when our plane was to depart, and at what gate. We did not leave until 11:00 pm, so after we ate and explored every single shop in the airport, I found sofas on a big mezzanine. Jean stretched out and slept while I kept watch. I remember how grownup I felt, and how nervous I was that I wouldn't hear the flight being announced.
I did hear the flight announcement, and we boarded a huge United Airlines plane. Remember, this was before jets. The next leg of our journey would take 7 hours for us to reach Chicago O'Hare airport. I remember the stewardess placing us at the back of the front cabin. Our seats would not recline. Directly behind us was a cabin full of "sleepers" -- just like a pullman car on a train! I was envious of the people who got to sleep in their own bunk that night. We were two very sleepy, mussed, and wrinkled little girls who got off that plane the next morning. A stewardess from American Airlines was there to meet us and quickly whisked us away to catch our flight to Rochester, New York where our mother and new stepfather were waiting.
We ended up living in a little town called Dresden, near Seneca Lake in upstate New York. Mother had a photography studio in nearby Geneva, NY, which they bought from a man who was caught peeking through a two-way mirror in the women's dressing room. They didn't prosecute him, as he had been there for many, many years -- a respected citizen, but they essentially ran him out of town! While there, I attended a two-room schoolhouse in Dresden. First through fourth grades were downstairs, while fifth through eighth were upstairs. In the midst of writing a Christmas play for the school and rehearsing for the Christmas pageant at church, we were saddened to hear we would be returning to Texas.
After an exciting train trip to Texas by way of a lengthy stopover in St. Louis, we started our third school that year in San Antonio. I also hooked up with classmates I had been with at different times in my elementary school years, as San Antonio was our "home base" it seems. By now I had learned to jump in with both feet, get involved, and enjoy the good times while they lasted. Sure enough, by March of 1953, we were informed of our parents' remarrying and moving us as a family to a little town called Ballinger. I said goodbye for the last time to my classmates at Mark Twain Junior High School. This would make four schools in three states in one school year. Imagine -- California history, New York history, and Texas history. Kind of boggles the mind to think about it now.
Recently, my son Matthew made the comment that "at least you got to spend all your school years in one place"!! I don't know what he was doing when I was telling my tales through the years, but he obviously wasn't listening to me! I promptly told him the above story. He got quiet, then said, "well, at least you didn't have to walk 6 miles through the snow!"
(Photo at right: MARILYN and DOROTHY BISHOP ROGERS -- 8th Grade Graduation Picture)
DOTTIE was my first friend here in Ballinger. We had some good times together, and her photos were labeled "My Best Friend" in my scrapbook. The ones below with the rattlesnake were taken at my dad's sand and gravel plant in South Ballinger. I thought the guys would get a kick out of the old cars, and girls, get a load of the pin curls! Remember those?
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Now for some some health updates. I spoke with JERRY DAVIS this past weekend. He has been having some severe back pain, but Carolyn padded all around him with pillows and they took off to visit JERRY'S best bud, CHARLES FIKES. He called me from CHARLES' house and said they were having a great time. He had been taken on a tour of the place and around the barn on CHARLES' four wheeler. JERRY has finished all the radiation treatments and is waiting on the final results from his doctor.
IRENE PIEL BATTS has asked me to post the following note from her to you all:
"I've been so touched by the prayers, warm thoughts, lovely cards and emails I've received from many of my '57 classmates. Thank you for all your many ways of making bright occasions out of ordinary days. I'm so grateful for all your thoughtfulness and caring." Love, Irene
IRENE has shown so much courage during the weeks of difficult treatment and much pain she has endured. She is in Week 4 of 6 weeks of radiation treatments, and has had one full day of chemotherapy. There will be at least one more chemo treatment.
JUNE HASH CURRY has been undergoing physical therapy three times a week to alleviate back and neck pain, and hopefully, to circumvent further surgery.
Please remember these warm, beautiful people in your thoughts and prayers. I know for some, prayer may not be something you practice or that comes easily for you. I recently read something in my Daily Word magazine that I thought was a beautiful way of expressing your good wishes. It went like this:
"Praying for others is as easy as holding loving thoughts.. My prayers do not have to be formal or lengthy. A declaration such as 'I love you,' or 'I see you healthy, happy, and whole' is a prayer from my heart."
From my heart to yours, I love you guys,
Marilyn
JUNE HASH CURRY has been undergoing physical therapy three times a week to alleviate back and neck pain, and hopefully, to circumvent further surgery.
Please remember these warm, beautiful people in your thoughts and prayers. I know for some, prayer may not be something you practice or that comes easily for you. I recently read something in my Daily Word magazine that I thought was a beautiful way of expressing your good wishes. It went like this:
"Praying for others is as easy as holding loving thoughts.. My prayers do not have to be formal or lengthy. A declaration such as 'I love you,' or 'I see you healthy, happy, and whole' is a prayer from my heart."
From my heart to yours, I love you guys,
Marilyn
