The first year we went on what we called the northern trip because we went up into Montana and generally stayed in the upper part of the 48 states. The second year we took a southern trip meaning we went into New Mexico and the four corners region.
The same group of adults went on this trip. The other people in the group were far more experienced when it came to travel than Becky and I. While we were usually wide eyed and inexperienced the others had already been to all the places we were visiting. The advantage was they knew what to avoid and what was worth seeing.
We traveled long days and what seemed like short nights sleeping on the ground in a sometimes-dry tent. Becky and I weren’t much different than the kids in the group. We were kids ourselves. Sometimes I wonder if the group regretted having us along.
The first day on this trip we left at 6 A.M. and traveled to into Kansas. I don’t think the wind ever stops blowing in Kansas. We traveled as far as we could in a day. I am not sure how far we got but ended up camping in a nice county park the first night. The kids had slept in the vans all day and kept us up most of the night. The next morning, after breakfast the group chaperones met and decided there would be no sleeping in the vans. We decided we would use the radio and loud conversation to keep everyone awake so they would sleep that night.
The second day we traveled the rest of the way across Kansas and then into Colorado. After what seemed like an eternity we could see mountains in the distance. It seemed to take even longer to actually get close to those mountains. We turned southwest off of Interstate 70 on U.S. 24 and headed for Colorado Springs. Did you know the stoplights in Colorado Springs are horizontal instead of vertical? That can be tricky for a colorblind boy. I think I ran several trying to stay with the other two vans.
While we were in Colorado Springs we visited the Air Force Academy, and the Garden of the Gods. We also visited the Manitou Incline. To get near the top you ride in rail cars that are pulled by cable up the side of a very steep mountain.
Ron Marshall and I climbed that last two or three hundred feet to the top of the mountain. I remember being amazed at how fearless Ron was. He stood on the very precipus and looked over the edge while I was hugging the rock several feet back.
From Colorado Springs we headed southwest on a narrow back road through a narrow canyon to Canon City. Canon City is the home of the Colorado State prison. There we visited the Royal Gorge. I remember the hummingbird feeders and the dozens of birds that visited them and the deer that would eat out of your hand.
I remember too, the tram ride across the gorge. Over a thousand feet above the Arkansas River and over two thousand feet long, I was uneasy from the moment I got into the car. When we got across I didn’t want to go back but, of course, I had to because there were only two ways back; the tram and walking across the bridge. The bridge was even worse for me so I took the tram back and never before or sense has solid ground felt so good to me.
From there we headed south on Interstate 25 and then west to a spot near a tiny town called Eagles Nest, New Mexico. We camped there and visited Taos, New Mexico the next day. It was a famous artist colony in those days. We walked all over the little town looking at the art and the hippies that inhabited the place. We took a horseback ride near Eagles Nest but my horse didn’t like the idea of going on and turned back. The rest of group, not knowing what else to do, followed me back.
From Eagles Nest we headed north back into Colorado. We visited the Black Canyon of Gunnison. It was huge and some said more beautiful than the Grand Canyon. We kept heading north and camped for the night in a remote spot. From there we traveled to a spot near Evergreen, Colorado where we spent the night. To get there we had to go over a high pass near the Continental Divide. Narrow roads and harrowing turns led us past Leadville and Climax to our campground.
We spent the night at Evergreen, toured Coors Brewery in Golden, and then headed to Granby and then over Trail Ridge Road to Estes Park. On the way we stopped at a roadside turquoise and silver stand and I bought a silver and coral ring which I have worn on my right hand everyday since.
We stayed in Estes Park for four days. The idea was to get as acclimated to the elevation as we could and then climb Longs Peak. It extends well above the tree line at 14,256 ft. Typically, above 10, 000 ft. Climbers use oxygen because the atmosphere is so thin. The day before we climbed a nearby mountain, Twin Sisters.
We left camp at 2:00 in the morning. The idea is to get off the top of mountain before noon and the afternoon rainstorms. The top of a mountain is the last place you want to be when lightening is all around you.
We climbed in the dark for hours and finally when the sun came up we could see the peak. It took us four more hours to get there. At about 11:00 that morning we scrambled hand over hand up the last 300 ft. and reached the top. There all the kids were waiting for us. Some had been there for as much as two hours. We had a group picture, looked around a little and then headed back down. Becky was the only adult female to make it to the top. We were back down to our Van about 5:30 P.M. It was an exhilarating experience even though we had walked and climbed almost continuously for the last 15 hours. Needless to say we slept well that night.
We departed early the next morning and traveled all the way back to Mt. Pleasant, arriving late that evening.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Summer Trips
Becky and I went on three trips with junior high students in the Mid 70s. Maynard Bittle, John and Betty Becker, Ron and Marsha Marshall organized them. They asked us to come along as chaperones. They were great adventures with kids. Maynard tried to incorporate as much science education as possible into the trips. Becky and I had not traveled much and were just as excited about it as the kids. Each one of the kids had to pay three or four hundred dollars to go.
We camped all the time and cooked all of our meals. Each person had the responsibility for their own gear and duties at each meal. It was well organized and generally came off remarkably smooth. The trips usually lasted from fourteen to sixteen days.
The first year we went it was a northern trip. We traveled to Pipestone Minnesota the first day and toured the quarry where the Indians found the stone to make pipes. From there we traveled into South Dakota and camped our first night. The next days we traveled through the Badlands, Black Hills and stayed near Rapid City.
From the Black Hills we traveled west and briefly visited Devil’s Tower and then after stopping for groceries headed north towards Montana and the Little Big Horn. After the groceries stop the van I was driving lost the other two. I knew where we were headed but was unsure whether I was ahead of them or behind. I drove pretty fast thinking I could catch up. Near the tiny town of Lodge Grass on the Crow Reservation in Montana I had a blow out. Fortunately, I was able to pull off the road safely.
As we changed the tire the other two vans pulled up. After sandwiches we stayed together the rest of the way to Little Big Horn where we toured the monument. It is an impressive place well worth the visit.
We spent the night in that area and then traveled all the way to Bozeman the next day. We bought more groceries and then headed north of Bozeman to a remote campsite about forty miles. In the next few days we climbed Mt. Sacagawea, visited a ranch, and went trout fishing. The last evening there while carving with my knife, I cut my finger and we had to make a trip to the emergency room in Bozeman to get nine stitches.
From Bozeman we traveled southwest through the haunting Madison Canyon. There, in 1959, campers were buried under a huge landslide. Twenty-six people were killed but few bodies were found because they were buried under the slide.
We entered Yellowstone from the Western side and stayed just out of the park in the town of West Yellowstone. We toured the park for two days, seeing the falls, many geysers, and Old Faithful.
From Yellowstone we went to Gray Bull, Wyoming. We camped in that area for a few days and attended a rodeo and visited a museum. Maynard arranged a guided trip for us out to a remote area where we hunted for fossils.
After one more stop in the middle of Nebraska we arrived back home. It was a fantastic adventure!
We camped all the time and cooked all of our meals. Each person had the responsibility for their own gear and duties at each meal. It was well organized and generally came off remarkably smooth. The trips usually lasted from fourteen to sixteen days.
The first year we went it was a northern trip. We traveled to Pipestone Minnesota the first day and toured the quarry where the Indians found the stone to make pipes. From there we traveled into South Dakota and camped our first night. The next days we traveled through the Badlands, Black Hills and stayed near Rapid City.
From the Black Hills we traveled west and briefly visited Devil’s Tower and then after stopping for groceries headed north towards Montana and the Little Big Horn. After the groceries stop the van I was driving lost the other two. I knew where we were headed but was unsure whether I was ahead of them or behind. I drove pretty fast thinking I could catch up. Near the tiny town of Lodge Grass on the Crow Reservation in Montana I had a blow out. Fortunately, I was able to pull off the road safely.
As we changed the tire the other two vans pulled up. After sandwiches we stayed together the rest of the way to Little Big Horn where we toured the monument. It is an impressive place well worth the visit.
We spent the night in that area and then traveled all the way to Bozeman the next day. We bought more groceries and then headed north of Bozeman to a remote campsite about forty miles. In the next few days we climbed Mt. Sacagawea, visited a ranch, and went trout fishing. The last evening there while carving with my knife, I cut my finger and we had to make a trip to the emergency room in Bozeman to get nine stitches.
From Bozeman we traveled southwest through the haunting Madison Canyon. There, in 1959, campers were buried under a huge landslide. Twenty-six people were killed but few bodies were found because they were buried under the slide.
We entered Yellowstone from the Western side and stayed just out of the park in the town of West Yellowstone. We toured the park for two days, seeing the falls, many geysers, and Old Faithful.
From Yellowstone we went to Gray Bull, Wyoming. We camped in that area for a few days and attended a rodeo and visited a museum. Maynard arranged a guided trip for us out to a remote area where we hunted for fossils.
After one more stop in the middle of Nebraska we arrived back home. It was a fantastic adventure!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Moving to the Farm
One of the teachers I worked with, Myra Garner, told me that her and her husband had bought a farm as a tax shelter. He worked in an upper management position in a local company. They were from Georgia and Myra had a wonderful southern accent. The farm had a house on it that they planned to rent out and Myra thought it would be perfect for our young family.
Becky and I went out and looked at the place. It wasn’t much but offered a lot more room than our apartment. It had a kitchen with a dinning area and two other rooms and a bath downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. They were doing some work on the house and thought we would be able to move in sometime that winter.
Rent for the house was $80. a month. We thought we could handle that and moved in during the late fall of 1971. It had a garage for the car and several acres to wander. There was a second smaller house on the farm that the Garners kept and used as a place to stay occasionally. They had two teenage boys who came out and stayed sometimes.
They had cattle on the farm and although Mr. Garner had no experience as a farmer. He worked hard to learn all about it and seemed to relish the opportunities. He didn’t have a lot of cows and borrowed a bull to inseminate them. His plan was to produce beef to send to market. He probably would have but in less than two years he was transferred back to a plant on the east coast.
My cousins, Russell and Rose Ross lived about a half mile away. They had lost their son, Stanley, in the Viet Nam war a couple years earlier. A friend, Maynard Bittle, and his family lived a couple miles away and we knew some other folks in the area. My Dad knew many of the people around there and talked a lot about the White Oak Church that was up on the blacktop a quarter mile away.
I didn’t mind living in the country but every time you needed something it meant a trip to town. We quickly learned to plan better so that didn’t happen too often. It was quiet and sometimes lonely on the farm.
We ended up having to move after about a year and eight months on the farm because the Garners were selling it to move back where they came from. Myra resigned her teaching position and they packed up everything and were gone. We briefly entertained the idea of trying to buy the farm ourselves but just didn’t have anything for a down payment so we were out. It probably was for the best because the farmhouse was not in good shape and would have cost a lot to maintain. The new owners eventually did build a new house on the place.
Heather was born while we lived on the farm. That is a story I’ll tell another time.
Becky and I went out and looked at the place. It wasn’t much but offered a lot more room than our apartment. It had a kitchen with a dinning area and two other rooms and a bath downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. They were doing some work on the house and thought we would be able to move in sometime that winter.
Rent for the house was $80. a month. We thought we could handle that and moved in during the late fall of 1971. It had a garage for the car and several acres to wander. There was a second smaller house on the farm that the Garners kept and used as a place to stay occasionally. They had two teenage boys who came out and stayed sometimes.
They had cattle on the farm and although Mr. Garner had no experience as a farmer. He worked hard to learn all about it and seemed to relish the opportunities. He didn’t have a lot of cows and borrowed a bull to inseminate them. His plan was to produce beef to send to market. He probably would have but in less than two years he was transferred back to a plant on the east coast.
My cousins, Russell and Rose Ross lived about a half mile away. They had lost their son, Stanley, in the Viet Nam war a couple years earlier. A friend, Maynard Bittle, and his family lived a couple miles away and we knew some other folks in the area. My Dad knew many of the people around there and talked a lot about the White Oak Church that was up on the blacktop a quarter mile away.
I didn’t mind living in the country but every time you needed something it meant a trip to town. We quickly learned to plan better so that didn’t happen too often. It was quiet and sometimes lonely on the farm.
We ended up having to move after about a year and eight months on the farm because the Garners were selling it to move back where they came from. Myra resigned her teaching position and they packed up everything and were gone. We briefly entertained the idea of trying to buy the farm ourselves but just didn’t have anything for a down payment so we were out. It probably was for the best because the farmhouse was not in good shape and would have cost a lot to maintain. The new owners eventually did build a new house on the place.
Heather was born while we lived on the farm. That is a story I’ll tell another time.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Teaching
I started teaching in the fall of 1971. My first year teaching salary was $7, 050.00. When I showed the contract to my father and he was upset. Oh, he was very happy for me, but that was more money per year than he had ever made.
My room was on the top floor near what was the principal’s office at that time. As you entered the room there was a cloke room on either side. One was the girls and the other the boys. Each had its own restroom and sink. There were hooks all along the wall to hang up coats. The small rooms weren’t much different than when I was in 4th grade there.
The classroom itself was smaller than I remember it as a kid but still was a nice size for a classroom. Windows lined the north side of the room and there were bookshelves along the wall under them. The room was equipped like a regular classroom. The floors were the original wooden boards. The marks where the desks had originally attached to the floor were clearly visible under several layers of varnish. The classroom really had not changed much in the last 20 years or so.
That first year I had 32 students registered for my class. Because of the high numbers two of them were placed at Harlan Elementary. That left me with 30 students for my first year as a teacher. That was a challenge but the students were a bright group and seemed to prosper in spite of my inexperience.
There wasn’t much support for new teachers in those days and the district had a mish mash curriculum. Teachers pulled together whatever material they could find to teach. When I looked at the reading materials there were pieces of three different programs but not enough of any one to use with the whole class. I checked with the third grade teacher, Nadine McCoy and she was using yet another program.
Unsure what to do I went over and visited a 4th grade teacher at Harlan. She had different materials as well. After talking with her I decided to use the materials I had and hope to make the best of it. A couple days later the principal stopped in and said the Harlan teacher was telling everyone I didn’t know what I was doing. I explained that I had simply asked her for advice since no one at Saunders seemed to be able to help me. In those days I guess it wasn’t a good idea to ask for help.
One day after recess a 4th grade girl came in and said the boys had called her a dirty name at recess. She was from a family that included three pretty wild boys so I couldn’t imagine there would be too many words she hadn’t heard many times. I asked her what the word was but she refused to tell me. After some time she pulled out the front of her dress and pointed at her tummy. I said, “Pregnant?” and she said that was it. I tried everything I could think off to convince her that wasn’t a dirty word. We even looked it up in the dictionary.
When her mother came in at parent teacher conference time I told her the story. The mother smiled and said, “Perry, when you have boys as ornery as mine, pregnant is a dirty word!”
My room was on the top floor near what was the principal’s office at that time. As you entered the room there was a cloke room on either side. One was the girls and the other the boys. Each had its own restroom and sink. There were hooks all along the wall to hang up coats. The small rooms weren’t much different than when I was in 4th grade there.
The classroom itself was smaller than I remember it as a kid but still was a nice size for a classroom. Windows lined the north side of the room and there were bookshelves along the wall under them. The room was equipped like a regular classroom. The floors were the original wooden boards. The marks where the desks had originally attached to the floor were clearly visible under several layers of varnish. The classroom really had not changed much in the last 20 years or so.
That first year I had 32 students registered for my class. Because of the high numbers two of them were placed at Harlan Elementary. That left me with 30 students for my first year as a teacher. That was a challenge but the students were a bright group and seemed to prosper in spite of my inexperience.
There wasn’t much support for new teachers in those days and the district had a mish mash curriculum. Teachers pulled together whatever material they could find to teach. When I looked at the reading materials there were pieces of three different programs but not enough of any one to use with the whole class. I checked with the third grade teacher, Nadine McCoy and she was using yet another program.
Unsure what to do I went over and visited a 4th grade teacher at Harlan. She had different materials as well. After talking with her I decided to use the materials I had and hope to make the best of it. A couple days later the principal stopped in and said the Harlan teacher was telling everyone I didn’t know what I was doing. I explained that I had simply asked her for advice since no one at Saunders seemed to be able to help me. In those days I guess it wasn’t a good idea to ask for help.
One day after recess a 4th grade girl came in and said the boys had called her a dirty name at recess. She was from a family that included three pretty wild boys so I couldn’t imagine there would be too many words she hadn’t heard many times. I asked her what the word was but she refused to tell me. After some time she pulled out the front of her dress and pointed at her tummy. I said, “Pregnant?” and she said that was it. I tried everything I could think off to convince her that wasn’t a dirty word. We even looked it up in the dictionary.
When her mother came in at parent teacher conference time I told her the story. The mother smiled and said, “Perry, when you have boys as ornery as mine, pregnant is a dirty word!”
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Student Teaching
(This is the first story of my life in the 1970s. Fifty-one more will follow.)
I student taught at the elementary school in Crawfordsville, Iowa, part of the WACO Community School District. I spent the spring semester of 1971 in Marilyn Ries’s 4th grade classroom. She was a great teacher and I was very fortunate to be able to learn from her.
We had two cars in those days. One was a 1954 Chevy Becky’s parents had given her. It wasn’t really a bad car but after we had it awhile reverse went out of it. You had to be careful where you parked. If you had enough space to pull in to parallel park you were fine but if you parked diagonally then you would have to push it out of the spot by hand and then jump in and drive away.
The other car we had was a red Opal Cadet. It was a small car with an equally small engine. It took a couple miles to get up close to the speed limit if there was more than one person in the car. If you were driving into the wind you couldn’t get up much past 45 miles per hour. It got great gas mileage! The doors were thin and it was about as solid as and empty pop can. The car, made by Buick, is no longer manufactured.
So, when it came time to commute to Crawfordsville the Opal seemed like the way to go. I car-pooled with Anita (Brent) Hampton and one other person who I have forgotten. When it was my turn to drive we packed all of our books and bodies in the tiny Opal and headed off. We had to leave ten minutes earlier if I was driving simply because the Opal was so slow. I am happy to say we made it safely there everyday even if some trips took longer.
I was a brash young teacher in those days and maybe a little too bold and progressive for some of the older teachers at the Crawfordville building. More than once they shook their heads at me. Once, after we had launched a home made model airplane from the third story window of the building, one of the teachers told me, over lunch, she hoped I grew up before I started teaching. Fortunately, another mature teacher immediately said, “I hope he doesn’t! He is going to be a great teacher just as he is!”
Midway through student teaching Mrs. Ries told me she was going to give me an “A” for the course. In April, Ottumwa Community School District asked me to come to an interview. Kathy (Garretson) Helman and I drove over for the opportunity. We were interviewed at the district’s central office that was in a huge, but elegant old house. They offered me a contract on the spot and pressured me to sign. I told them that I would need more time and took the contract home.
The temptation was great to sign that contract but I knew I had a shot at a job in Mt. Pleasant, too. John Becker had promised me a job. John was an old friend from the swimming pool and principal at Saunders Elementary, my old school. When he saw the contract from Ottumwa he hurried things up for me and Mt. Pleasant offered me a contract, too. I signed it and took a job across the street from the house I grew up in, replacing my fourth grade teacher.
I student taught at the elementary school in Crawfordsville, Iowa, part of the WACO Community School District. I spent the spring semester of 1971 in Marilyn Ries’s 4th grade classroom. She was a great teacher and I was very fortunate to be able to learn from her.
We had two cars in those days. One was a 1954 Chevy Becky’s parents had given her. It wasn’t really a bad car but after we had it awhile reverse went out of it. You had to be careful where you parked. If you had enough space to pull in to parallel park you were fine but if you parked diagonally then you would have to push it out of the spot by hand and then jump in and drive away.
The other car we had was a red Opal Cadet. It was a small car with an equally small engine. It took a couple miles to get up close to the speed limit if there was more than one person in the car. If you were driving into the wind you couldn’t get up much past 45 miles per hour. It got great gas mileage! The doors were thin and it was about as solid as and empty pop can. The car, made by Buick, is no longer manufactured.
So, when it came time to commute to Crawfordsville the Opal seemed like the way to go. I car-pooled with Anita (Brent) Hampton and one other person who I have forgotten. When it was my turn to drive we packed all of our books and bodies in the tiny Opal and headed off. We had to leave ten minutes earlier if I was driving simply because the Opal was so slow. I am happy to say we made it safely there everyday even if some trips took longer.
I was a brash young teacher in those days and maybe a little too bold and progressive for some of the older teachers at the Crawfordville building. More than once they shook their heads at me. Once, after we had launched a home made model airplane from the third story window of the building, one of the teachers told me, over lunch, she hoped I grew up before I started teaching. Fortunately, another mature teacher immediately said, “I hope he doesn’t! He is going to be a great teacher just as he is!”
Midway through student teaching Mrs. Ries told me she was going to give me an “A” for the course. In April, Ottumwa Community School District asked me to come to an interview. Kathy (Garretson) Helman and I drove over for the opportunity. We were interviewed at the district’s central office that was in a huge, but elegant old house. They offered me a contract on the spot and pressured me to sign. I told them that I would need more time and took the contract home.
The temptation was great to sign that contract but I knew I had a shot at a job in Mt. Pleasant, too. John Becker had promised me a job. John was an old friend from the swimming pool and principal at Saunders Elementary, my old school. When he saw the contract from Ottumwa he hurried things up for me and Mt. Pleasant offered me a contract, too. I signed it and took a job across the street from the house I grew up in, replacing my fourth grade teacher.
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