Thursday, September 28, 2023

THE WAY I REMEMBER IT - 3 - Grade School

 Continuing with random thoughts from my younger years.  Tales from Lower Lodi grade school.

I don't think there were ever more than a dozen students at one time in my country school Lower Lodi, school district 73 in Custer County, NE.  When I graduated from the eighth grade we went to Broken Bow where all graduating from 8th grade were in a commencement exercise.  It seems like I was in the top 20 of the county, but can't recall how many graduates there were.  Ann and Robert Vollenweider (pronounced Volenvider with a long I) lived several miles south west of the school.  Think Ann was a grade or so behind me.  She passed away in her 40's or 50's several years ago.  Robert was a big-for-his-age guy and somehow got the nickname Beef, Beefy, or Beef Ball.  I can't recall him objecting to them, but it was how I remember him.

      Years later, when we were in High School (he went to Oconto and I went to Callaway) he called me and wanted to know if I wanted to go pheasant hunting with him.  He was driving their early-50 something Chevy pickup.  We drove over to the Redfern Table area and were on a dirt backroad when we saw some pheasants nearby in a field.  He stopped in the middle of the road and we both jumped out.  He was letting me use a 12 gauge shotgun which was laying on the middle of the bench seat with the barrel aimed down at the hump in the floor.  I reached back to get it and it went off.  Can't imagine that it was cocked, or if it had a safety it was off, but anyway, it blew a hole through the floor over the hump and the recoil broke through the cardboard ceiling in the corner of the pickup leaving an imprint of the butt end of the gun.   Of course, the noise scared off the pheasants, so we got back in and was going to go on down the road.  The engine started but was really running rough.  Raised the hood and found that 4 of the 8 sparkplug wires were blasted away and we were running on much less of an engine than desired.  We limped back to his place.  Explained to Charles, his dad, what had happened.  I don't recall whether Dad helped pay for repairing things or not.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.

      Another memory of Beef (who passed away several years ago now) was some argument I got into with him during the noon hour when we were outside on the school grounds.  There was a Cedar tree on the south side of the school, near the entrance, and we ended up each cutting a switch off that tree and was jousting or whipping each other with them.  The teacher came out and wanted to know what was going on.  Don't remember the conversation, but she insisted we go ahead and finish what we started---so we had to dart in and out, striking at each other for at least another 15 minutes until the noon hour recess was over.  Seems like we weren't mad at each other when it ended, but were upset with the teacher because we had to keep at it.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.

    Beef had the ability to wiggle his ears.  When we were in one of the earlier grades I was seated one row over a few desks behind him.  When he was sure he had my attention, he would wiggle his ears (usually during a quiet study time) and I would laugh.  Teacher came to me and wanted to know why I was laughing, which I wouldn't tell her.  Hands on the desk and ruler slapped across them.  This happened many times.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.

     My younger brother, Darrell, was two years behind me.  Remember riding the horses with him some to and from school.  For some reason he wasn't in the photo from last post purportedly taken in 1953.  


Photo at right shows our cousins Kent and Karen Miles (far left and far right) with the four younger kids in my family in 1950.  Of us - left to right, Donnie, Lynn, Darrell and just-born-that-January little sister Louise in the center.


Another photo pulled from the computer archives - my Sophomore High School picture.  This, of course, was past my grade school time, but just found it.  I said these were random thoughts


     Some other thoughts that come to mind.  I usually milked cows in the morning before going to grade school in the later grades and changed clothes before heading to school.  One day when I got in the classroom and took off my hooded sweatshirt I discovered I still had my dirty terrycloth type T-shirt underneath.  Seems like it was a long day that day.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.  

      Another time, and this was in high school.  A couple years I worked in the cafeteria so I wouldn't have to pay for my lunches.  When I got to school that morning realized I had on one white band shoe and one black shoe.  The younger kids had a ball pointing it out to me as they came through the line and as I picked up dishes, etc.  I told them it was a new fad going around.   Dumb, dumb, dumb.

     Back to grade school -- I recall some confrontations between the Downin kids - Norman (a grade or two behind me) and Carolyn (in my grade) and the teacher.  I believe the teacher was Miss Patterson, who was a quiet, rather meek teacher.  One time Norman was walking up and down on top of a row of the connected desks that we had at the time..  Another time Carolyn was having a difference with her and the teacher locked them in the classroom (I think during recess) and both Norman and Carolyn were kicking at the door.  The Downins lived over the hill southeast of us- almost a mile drive by the road.  Their dad, Morris, was helping remove some stuff from the basement of the school (this might have been after the school was closed) and the men were trying to break down the big metal cook stove that had been in the room where the teachers had lived many years before.  Since it was going for iron anyway, they decided to break it up.  Morris brought a heavy bar down with all his strength onto a part of the oven--it went right through and ended up on his big toe below.  He had a big bloody swollen toe/foot.  

       Thinking of that basement, when I was in one of the younger grades, we were instructed to make something for our parents for a Christmas present.  They had a sort of a workbench in the basement in the room beside where the teachers had lived.  I got some 1" x 4" pine board, cut it in to two pieces about 8 inches long.  On one of them I had drilled several holes, some of the square that were done with a coping saw.  This board was screwed at a 90 degree angle onto the center of the other board, forming a T when looked at from the end.  A couple of cup hooks were fastened to the top of the backboard to hang it from the wall.  It was then varnished and at the Christmas Program at the school I gave it to Dad.  He looked at it and wondered what in the world it was.  I explained that it was to hang his tools on the wall.  The square hole was big enough to put one handle of the Vice Grips wrench in it.  I don't know that he ever used it.  After he was gone I ended up with it and in 2011 when I was working on insulating the metal work shop building here in town in Clarinda I took the two boards apart and used them to keep the insulation down at the point where the roof met the walls.

I am randomly running out of thoughts, so will pause here.  It is Thursday morning with bright sunshine here in Clarinda.  Daughter Michelle got here from Columbus, Ohio last evening.  We are going to Phyllis' sister Beth and her husband Steve's place for lunch so they can visit with Michelle.  We all leave tomorrow morning for Marengo, IA.

Later, LCM




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