High School

 

    

Graduation Picture  1942

High School……What a rude awakening.   Our school bus was just a covered bed, put on a flat bedded farm truck, with a bench on the outside and benches back to back down the middle.  Thee was no heat and little window space.  We had to walk a fourth of a mile up the lane and wait for the bus, we were almost on the end of the route, only four houses ahead of us.  In the winter it was a long cold wait and then since there wasn’t heat in the bus the kids on the outside would stretch their legs to the bench in the middle and we would sit on each others feet to keep our feet warm and huddle together on our bench for warmth.   During the two weeks of spud harvest the school bus cover was taken off and the regular bed was used to haul spuds.

     There was a definite line between the city kids and the country kids.  We didn’t bring any lunch because the city kids made us feel like hicks for carrying a lunch.  Our school was a nice red brick building on main street just down from the old Jr. High.  The teachers were excellent and the seminary building, which still stands today (2012), was just across the street.   I enjoyed classes and we country kids hung together.

     One of my hardest class was typing.  We didn’t start school until after spud harvest, so we could make money.  By the time I started  I was six weeks behind and hadn’t had the basics.  I practiced every noon period and soon caught up.  My favorite classes were math.  I couldn’t understand why some kids couldn’t get Algebra, it was easy for me.

    My brother Larry was born in Nov. 1938 and Mom spent ten days in the maternity home and then to her mothers.  I was suppose to cook  and take care of things.  I had never cooked a meal.  My sister, Marva, worked in the house and I worked outside.  I kept the center of the rooms clean and the meals were a disaster. And I never washed any clothes.  I don’t remember cooking a meal again, until after Jess and I were married.  I didn’t recommend that to any new bride.

Eighth Grade Graduation

It used to by the graduation from the Eighth Grade was as big as graduation from High School.  Some never got anymore education than that. Mom even went to a beauty parlor and got her hair done, with two other girls.  One girl didn’t have any money to get her hair done.  Mom has always felt badly that they didn’t do something to help her.  Mom thinks that girl looked the best in the picture though. 

Mom says,

”The night  of graduation, my grandma and Grandpa Atkinson and my family came.  My grandparent Lakes couldn't come.  Grandpa Lake didn't drive and they lived north of Rexburg by the cemetery.

My grandparents gave me a gold locket, with my initials on it.  I still treasure it today.  Two the of the boys never went on to school, but all 4 girls graduated from High School.  You will never know how many times I have regretted that I didn't continue my education.  I had no way to get to Ricks, no money to register and my goal was to get a college education.  I went back when Kent was in first grade but I soon realized I could learn more on my own.  I took correspondent classes for several years, all of which were religion classes.”

 

First Date and Clothing Philosophy

 

  Franklin D. Roosevelt thought Thanksgiving was too close to Christmas and he changed the date to the third Thursday of November.  My sixteenth birthday came on Thanksgiving for that one year only.  I also had my first formal date that night.  We had gone to Grandpa Lakes for dinner and Merrill Andrus picked me up there.  We went to Rexburg to the movie theater.  I don’t remember much about the evening except I was excited.  I didn’t worry about my hair or dress.  I wasn’t sure of myself at this time.

I wonder if most teen-agers don’t take themselves too seriously.  I know I did, and yet I had everything going for me.  Now at age 87 I do my own hair, wear clothes I had on my mission 30 years ago and could care less.  I still weigh the same as I did in High School, 125 lbs. So they fit.  My clothes are a better style than most you could find in a store.  I wear a lot of skirts and blouses.  The rage is fancy pocket. tight fitting jeans and I don’t like them   They are not flattering, unless you have a perfect shape.

That skirt and blouse I wore for the picture was one I wore on my mission 22 years ago.  I have worn it every spring since.  It is polyester double knit and doesn't wrinkle. It has been washed many many times and has never lost its color, in fact it still has my name on the tag.

Sports

Our basketball team didn't do well, when I was in the seventh grade. We didn't have a gym at school, our games were at the church. There was a hoop set up in an empty back room, where the bucket of water and dipper was. The space didn't allow any moving around. In the final game of the tournament, played at the Lyman church, we beat Archer. They didn't think we had a chance. They had a large group of girls in the eighth grade to pick from and we had four girls in the eighth and used two from the seventh.

Girls were considered frail and we weren’t allowed to run from one end of the court to the other. The floor was divided into thirds, two guards, two forwards and two centers. Only the forwards, could shoot baskets. I played guard and I played my heart out. We were the champions. I was chosen on the all star team, as guard and received a small gold basketball to wear on a chain.

This ended my basketball career. We rode the bus to school and practices and games were after school and we didn't have any way home after either.

I was pitcher for the boy’s baseball team. Only 4 boys were in the eighth grade. We had to wear dresses. My mother had to patch the shoulder of all my dresses. I would stretch out to pitch and the seam would pop. We played other schools. When we played Burton I struck out nine consecutive batters but when we played Archer I didn’t last the first inning, I could throw a perfect strike and they could hit it. It was fun to get out of school and ride to the games with the boys. Alta Clark was the first baseman.

Each spring a district track meet was held. We practiced for several weeks and had tryouts to see who was fastest in each race, broad jump and shot baskets. The year I was in the Seventh grade I placed second in the district for total points. Laurene Ricks placed first. She ran in all the third , fourth and fifth grade races and I could only run in seventh and eighth grade races.

NO WONDER WE HAVE SO MANY ATHLETES IN THE FAMILY!  Jill

The “JOY” of Farming

 

I think this post tells so much about Mom.  Why she still enjoys to work outside…and work hard.  Why she has such a love for farming.   She loved farming, before she loved Jess.  Her love for farming has nothing to do with Money.

 

      “When we arrived at the old house, May 1935 there hadn’t been any farm work done  .My mother and I cut all the spuds that were planted.  The cutting board was put up in the orchard.  It consisted of  several boards with a knife in the end of it.  We sat on  a chair with a potato sack under the knife and cut each potato in the size for seed.  Each seed had to have an eye for growth.   I cut all day and at age eleven they were long days.

  As soon as the crops and garden were all planted  the beets came up and had to be thinned.  This consisted of chopping a six inch space, with a long handled hoe and if there was more than one beet left, you bent over and pulled the extras out by hand.  Beets needed space to grow and expand.   As soon as that was done, we started hoeing the spud and beets fields for weeds.  They didn’t have chemicals to spray for weeds so we worked the entire summer hoeing, except when it was time to cut the hay.

 

 

 

  The hay was mowed and then a dump rake, pulled by a team of horses, would break the long swaths into bundles.  We let the hay dry for a few days and then would turn each bundle over so it could dry on the under side.  When dry, the hay was pitched on to a wagon and we helped stack it.  At the barn it had to be unloaded off the wagon, with a single horse, led by me, to pull the fork full of hay off the wagon onto the stack. There was no monetary reward but we had the satisfaction of knowing we were helping.  Someone once said, What a lot of money we would get from selling potatoes.  I told them that wasn't the joy of farming.  The joy was raising the crop and seeing it harvested, not the money.