Ninth Grade: Tragedies

As I wrote last week, I began driving a tractor for my father the summer after I finished 8th grade. What I forgot to tell you was that I could also drive a car at that time. In Kansas, the age for a restricted license was 14. We country kids could legally drive to school and work errands for the farm. Plus, we could drive anywhere as long as a licensed driver over 21 was in the car with us. I realize how scary that sounds now, but we had little traffic with which to contend in my rural county.

A family tragedy happened when I was in 9th grade. My father had a near-fatal accident while cutting trees in our pasture. He made the mistake of cutting down one tree while another dead tree was leaning against it. I never quite understood the logistics of the accident, but the dead tree fell on my dad's head and knocked him to the ground. Fortunately, our hired man was with him. When he realized the severity of my dad's condition, he sprinted to the house at top speed. My mom went back to the pasture with him and told me to call the "Edna Corner", our local hangout for farmers to discuss world affairs, and ask for as many men as possible to come to our house. The Goodwin Funeral Home hearse--our local version of an ambulance--came in a hurry also.

When my dad's buddies arrived, I sent them to the pasture to help my mom. Since she thought that his back or neck was broken, she wanted him moved very carefully. She had 5 or 6 men around him lifting, and she held his head as they lifted him into the hearse in one coordinated move. Thanks to my mom's quick thinking he arrived at the Coffeyville Memorial Hospital in pain but with no paralysis.

After a thorough examination, the doctors determined that the first and third vertebrae--the ones which break in a hanging--were broken. Though he was fortunate to be alive, my dad had a grueling recovery ahead of him. Our family doctor drilled 2 holes in his skull to insert a device which looked like ice tongs. A rope from the device draped over the head of his bed and attached to a sand bag for weight. A delicate balance was necessary to provide the traction needed to hold his vertebrae in place without putting too much pressure on my dad's skull. He had to lie flat in a hospital bed for 6 weeks, moving only with the aid of several medical personnel.

When he was dismissed from the hospital, his muscles had atrophied to the point that he could do very little for himself. He wore a neck brace for a couple of months, but he was so happy to be able to move around by himself that he didn't mind. Miraculously, the only permanent damage was less mobility in turning his head from side to side.

Our country also experienced a tragedy that year. I remember well when someone from the school office came to tell my English class of 7 students that President Kennedy had been shot. When we later learned that he had in fact been assassinated, I think we all shed a few tears. We were glued to our televisions for the next several days, and my mom shed many tears for a President she loved.

Tenth Grade: A One Tracked Mind

My mind was consumed with one thought during my 10th grade year, and I remember very little else. The State of Kansas was consolidating small school districts into larger, unified districts. Everyone in my small town of Edna could see the handwriting on the wall that we would lose our high school; the only question was how soon.

Labette County Community High School in Altamont was ready and waiting to take in all of us small high school students because they had read the handwriting sooner and acted accordingly. Unfortunately, that didn't set too well with the other small towns. They feared that losing their high school would be the death of their town; this included Edna.

Since the larger LCCHS could offer a greater variety of classes with a higher level of difficulty, I really wanted to attend my junior and senior years there. I was a conscientious student who had college aspirations. My lifelong love of reading probably contributed to my love of education, and I wanted to achieve my best. I was not satisfied with the quality of instruction I was receiving at Edna High School, and I told my parents of my desire to attend LCCHS.

As the expression goes, "all hell brook loose" around me. My dad had been a school board member for the Edna School District, and he felt like he would be a traitor if he sent me to the county high school before our school closed. My dad also was not excited about my desire to attend college. Like many of his friends, he believed that I needed only enough education to be a wife and mother. My mom, on the other hand, held education in high regard. She wanted her 4 daughters to attend college, and she knew that the larger high school had a much better college prep program.

Knowing that there was already a lot of tension in my parents' marriage, I felt terrible about causing another rift between them, but being a normal teenager I also had strong feelings about my future. I knew that I would have more challenging academics in the county high school, and I yearned for that. Plus, I must admit, I was desirous of the greater social opportunities as well.

After several stressful arguments, my father relented and allowed me to attend LCCHS, but damage was done to our relationship and to their marriage. My 2 years at LCCHS were profitable academically and enjoyable socially, but I regretted the price we had to pay.

8th Grade

Well, 8th grade found me back in the same classroom with Mrs. Sisk and a new group of 7th graders. Since we had no girls' sports, I was a cheerleader in both grades. (I certainly noticed a difference in my cheerleading sweater in 8th grade.) I was very interested in boys, and I know I spent an inordinate amount of time talking about the boys in my class with the girls in my class.

An exciting event happened the summer before 8th grade. Our family purchased and had installed a brand new window air conditioner in our living room. Since it was the only one for the whole house, we used fans to direct the cool air. We probably wouldn't have purchased one even then, except for my sister Kim's allergies. The doctor said that she needed all the dust, etc. filtered out of the air she breathed as much as possible.

In our town, 8th Grade Graduation was a big deal. We all bought new white dresses for the event and had our pictures taken before the graduation ceremony. I remember that I had the privilege of wearing high heels, but we girls were a little nervous walking down the aisle in them.

Since I was 14 that summer, my dad let me work in the hay field with him. I drove a small, red Ford tractor (no closed cab and air conditioning) and raked the dried grass into winrows in preparation for the baler to pick it up and make square hay bales. I liked being out in the sun, working with my dad, and earning my own spending money.

My New Look: Seventh Grade

In the summer of 1961, right before my 7th grade year, my baby sister Mona was born. As is common for girls of that age, I loved having a baby around. I wanted to hold her, dress her, rock her, etc. When she got older, one of my favorite things was bathing her in the bathtub. She liked to play there, and I liked to cuddle her in the towel as I dried her off. I especially liked to powder her (I know that isn't done anymore) and dress her in clean clothes. Since she started first grade the year I left for college, I wasn't around much during her school years, but we have developed a sweet fellowship in our adult years.

My education continued at Edna Grade School, and as I had been since first grade, I was in a combination room. For those who haven't experienced this type of setup, it means that the teacher must teach most subjects twice--first to the 7th grade and then to the 8th grade. A few subjects like science, social studies, and penmanship could be combined; we alternated the 7th grade book and the 8th grade book. This arrangement also meant that we had to learn responsibility. In other words, while the 7th grade was having arithmetic, the 8th graders had to be working quietly on their assignments or reading a book. Since I loved to read, this worked well for me, except when I had trouble controlling my other love...talking.

I can still remember our quite elderly teacher, Mrs. Sisk. Her abilities and her memory were in their waning years, to say the least. Thankfully, I think we were her last class. I don't blame her for not liking me much because I don't think I was very respectful. When she made mistakes in explaining things on the blackboard, I just couldn't keep from correcting her. Needless to say, the parent teacher conference wasn't pleasant for my mom. After that, my mom talked to me often about respecting those in authority.

The exciting things about 7th grade were my new hairdo and my new body. For the first time in my life, I cut my hair short. Through my elementary years, my hair was long and straight but almost always in 2 long braids. Since I enjoyed playing hard, I liked it that way because I didn't have to mess with it much and it was out of my way. My mom helped me wash my hair and comb out the tangles once a week. When it dried, she braided it, and it usually stayed that way for a few days before it needed braiding again. As for my body, I started 7th grade with pretty much a flat chest, but by the time 8th grade started, I couldn't button my blouses anymore. What a transformation that was for a tomboy!