As usual I was being silly as we drove to school the other morning and for some reason the grand kids cause me to recall the olden days. When I say olden days, I mean like 59 years ago!
Before you ask, yes I can remember that far back, even though I was almost a baby (actually 10 years old). This story will provide some info about me, after one of the numerous moves that our family made during my life at home.
Our family moved every year or two. Why did they move so much? I believe it was mostly due to my mother. I can remember living in town and hearing my mom say to dad, we can’t even go out and work in the garden without the neighbors watching. After several of those type conversations my parents would begin looking for a different home out of town.
They would find the home and move in, everything would be fine. No prying neighbors to watch Mon’s every move. (It may have been that mom watched the neighbor’s every move, and then believe that they also watched her.)
After some time in the new house in the country, my mother would begin to make comments like, we have to drive all the way in town to go to the store or, it is a long way to drive to go to church. Usually those comments were my Dad’s key to knowing, they would be looking for a house back in town soon.
This little story is not about the move from town to the country, instead it is about me! I had been going to a town school and although I was not an Einstein, I was passing my classes.
The school I had transferred to was a big change for me. It was a two room country school name, “Juden School”. The two rooms consisted of a basement room which housed the first, second, third and fourth grades and the room above the basement which housed the fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth grades.
Being in the fifth grade I sat in the first row of chairs on the left side of the room. All the fifth graders were in this one row. Then the sixth grade was in the next row, each grade had a row of chairs.
The process of eating lunch was much different from the town school. First it would be helpful to know the teacher for the 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th grades was a preacher. His name was Mr. Hurt. Nope I did not make that up, his name was Hurt, and he didn’t mind hurting your butt with a paddle.
There were plywood tables attached to the walls with hinges, all around the room. These tables could be pulled open and they had a leg under them that held them up. At lunch time the eighth grade boys would go around the room and open the tables, then they would place folding chairs at the tables.
Everyone would go through the line to get their lunch and then sit down which I had done on my first day. Sitting down I grabbed a spoon and took a bite. The kid sitting next to me said, “Don’t do that, Mr. Hurt has not prayed yet”. Yep, everyone had to be seated and be quite before our teacher would pray and then we could eat.
Although the above was interesting, that was not the most astounding thing to happen the first day at the country school. It was nearing the end of the day when Mr. Hurt went to the chalk board and said copy these math problems down, they are home work.
I began copying the math problems that were fractions and I think there may have been 15 or 20 of them. I remember thinking these are easy problems and I was answering them as I wrote them down. I thought, wow, I am doing these now and I will not have any homework tonight!
All the math problems answered, and no homework, how much better can it be for one’s first day at the country school? I then learned that the math problems were not for everyone in the room, they were home work for the eighth graders! I had just completed the eighth grade homework, without taking it home.
I finished the fifth and sixth grades in the country and did not learn anything during that time. We moved back in town and I was in the 7th grade, I was so far behind that it wasn’t funny.
The two room country school is why I am, still today, two years behind! Do you understand when the angel of death comes for me he will have to wait two more years for me to catch up! (I hope)
From the memory of someone who is behind!
Don Ford
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