When I was summer school science director I had to get a bus driver’s permit each year so I could drive the busload of kids to each of the areas where we did the science activities. To get that license I had to take a test and drive a school bus for the officer. I also had to get a physical each year.
Driving the bus was easy and so was the test. The physical was easy, too, except that every time I took it I failed the colorblind test. Dr. Rankin had to write a letter each year saying that the colorblindness didn’t affect my driving. Dr. Rankin was always intrigued by my colorblindness and asked me the same questions about it each year. My guess is he just didn’t remember what I told him the year before. The only other thing would be that he was just interested in it?
The summer science program continued for some time. I passed the job off to someone else eventually so I could do other things. I did keep getting the bus driver’s license for a few years. The only time I drove the bus was with my own students. It made field trips easy and inexpensive for the district because they didn’t have to pay a driver to take us out. Eventually, some of the drivers did complain that because I did that it took away their opportunity to earn some extra money.
I was about to give it up when another opportunity presented itself. Hope Haven, in Burlington needed a summer driver to transport kids from Henry County to the center each day for the summer program. John Becker, who was on the board there, knew that I had a permit and told me about the job. It included not only driving a route and then on to Burlington, but to keep me busy in-between they offered me an associate position in the summer school program there.
At first I was a little insulted and told them I was a teacher. They offered me more money and I took the job.
During the year they always had an associate ride the bus but that wasn’t the case for me. I was on my own. The only training I got was one dry run with the supervisor. Then I was ready to go. I picked up one group at the high school in Mt. Pleasant, made a few other stops and then off to New London. I had one rider just west of town and then one stop in town. Then it was on to the Des County Home and then Hope Haven. I did the route in reverse on the way home. Never once did I ever have a problem!
On weekends I parked the big old bus in front of our house. It seemed to work out OK and I don’t remember any complaints from the neighbors. That was the last of my bus driving. Maneuvering a big old bus around is kind of interesting but not as difficult as you might think. I career as a bus driver ended with a perfect accident free record.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Summers
I don’t know how many times in my teaching career I heard people say, “Boy, I’d like a job where you only have to work nine months out of the year!” I would always respond, “Yeah, I’d like one like that, too!” They would always say, “You have one! You’re a teacher aren’t you?” My only response would be, “Let me know if you find a teacher who only works nine months out of the year!”
The truth is teachers put in countless hours in the summer planning and preparing lessons for the year. All teachers are required to continue to take classes to remain licensed. Many curriculum writing projects take place over the summer.
Take the teachers out of vacation bible schools, summer camps, summer recreation programs, swimming lessons, and summer group trips and you wouldn’t have anyone to do it. I once counted in our church in Mt. Pleasant that 8 out of the 11 Sunday school teachers were educators during the week.
Not only do teachers go to summer school for their ongoing education but they often teach summer school themselves. I taught summer school in the Mt. Pleasant district for several years. I started out as a teacher’s assistant the first year and then had my own classroom for a few years after that. Summer school was held in a building near the high school called The Annex. It was really the building that was a pool hall when I was in high school. It now houses a dentist and some other offices.
Maynard Bittle started a summer science program for elementary students. It involved each grade, first through fifth, in summer school having a day of outdoor science education each week. It was revolutionary during its time and highly effective.
When Maynard left the position I became the summer science director. It required me having a school bus driver’s permit. I had to plan a morning’s activities in the field for each group. Summer school was six weeks long so each group got six days.
We did all kinds of cool things! I loved being out of doors and was inspired by the response of the kids. Many had never been on similar adventures. We went geode hunting in Muddy Creek south of New London. We had great success and everyone always came home with a geode. Once we found some Indian artifacts at the site. I imagine if you went back there today you would fine some.
We went fishing at Gibson Park. You have to be sorta nuts and a glutton for punishment to take a group of 20 2nd graders fishing. Tangled lines, icky worms, and hooked earlobes are all over the place.
We went fossil hunting in a local quarry and in the creek where the bugs walk on water. After a day of wading in the water up to their knees and carry large muddy rocks to the bus we looked pretty bad when we pulled into the school at the end of the morning.
We did the tree identification walk on Iowa Wesleyan campus. An astute college president had overseen the planting of over a hundred different varieties of trees on campus. We all learned about the characteristics of each tree and its uses.
These and other adventures occupied our summers for several years. Eventually, I went on to others things that occupied my summers but in my 18 years as a teacher I never had more than a week or two off.
The truth is teachers put in countless hours in the summer planning and preparing lessons for the year. All teachers are required to continue to take classes to remain licensed. Many curriculum writing projects take place over the summer.
Take the teachers out of vacation bible schools, summer camps, summer recreation programs, swimming lessons, and summer group trips and you wouldn’t have anyone to do it. I once counted in our church in Mt. Pleasant that 8 out of the 11 Sunday school teachers were educators during the week.
Not only do teachers go to summer school for their ongoing education but they often teach summer school themselves. I taught summer school in the Mt. Pleasant district for several years. I started out as a teacher’s assistant the first year and then had my own classroom for a few years after that. Summer school was held in a building near the high school called The Annex. It was really the building that was a pool hall when I was in high school. It now houses a dentist and some other offices.
Maynard Bittle started a summer science program for elementary students. It involved each grade, first through fifth, in summer school having a day of outdoor science education each week. It was revolutionary during its time and highly effective.
When Maynard left the position I became the summer science director. It required me having a school bus driver’s permit. I had to plan a morning’s activities in the field for each group. Summer school was six weeks long so each group got six days.
We did all kinds of cool things! I loved being out of doors and was inspired by the response of the kids. Many had never been on similar adventures. We went geode hunting in Muddy Creek south of New London. We had great success and everyone always came home with a geode. Once we found some Indian artifacts at the site. I imagine if you went back there today you would fine some.
We went fishing at Gibson Park. You have to be sorta nuts and a glutton for punishment to take a group of 20 2nd graders fishing. Tangled lines, icky worms, and hooked earlobes are all over the place.
We went fossil hunting in a local quarry and in the creek where the bugs walk on water. After a day of wading in the water up to their knees and carry large muddy rocks to the bus we looked pretty bad when we pulled into the school at the end of the morning.
We did the tree identification walk on Iowa Wesleyan campus. An astute college president had overseen the planting of over a hundred different varieties of trees on campus. We all learned about the characteristics of each tree and its uses.
These and other adventures occupied our summers for several years. Eventually, I went on to others things that occupied my summers but in my 18 years as a teacher I never had more than a week or two off.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Heather
Heather’s due date was April 5 but nothing happened. By the 10th of April, Becky was pretty uncomfortable. At a doctor visit, Dr. Rankin said that if nothing had happened soon they would “strip the membrane” on Friday the 13th. I wasn’t worried about it being on Friday the 13th and actually feel the 13th is a lucky day. That is probably because I was born on September 13th.
What I was worried about was this “strip the membrane” business. I didn’t know exactly what it meant and it sounded very ominous! I didn’t want to appear stupid so I didn’t ask but wanted to say, “ So, what does that mean?” I don’t recall hearing the term before that time so I cringed when I heard it and hear it I did! It seemed like that week I must have heard it a thousand times. It was as though everyone knew the term bothered me and they enjoyed watching me react. Even now it causes an adverse reaction with me.
Friday came and no baby! Becky went in to the doctor’s office about 2 o’clock that afternoon and the doctor did the “strip the membrane” business. He said it won’t be long now and sent Becky home. It wasn’t until about 10 o’clock that night that there was some action.
We took Angie to my parent’s house and we went to the hospital. Becky was having contractions but they were too far apart. Gradually, they got closer and closer but as time wore on Becky became exhausted! Becky’s Mom arrived sometime in the morning and I took a break and went home for a while to rest. The pains were getting pretty intense and when it looked like the baby would soon be born, they gave Becky an epidural, which helped her a lot. But, since there was no pain the nurses had to tell her when to push. The miracle happened at 2:58 PM!
The doctor said that Becky and the baby were fine! I went downstairs at the hospital and filled out the papers for Heather Anne Ross. Sometime after that though there was concern!
Someone said Heather was a Bileruben baby. No one offered us any information about exactly what that was and I think we were afraid to ask. I think it was my mother who finally explained it to me. It was fairly common and my mother said they used to take care of it by setting a new baby in the sun until their liver begins to fully function. Untreated it can lead to mental retardation. We were horrified but everyone assured us that she would be fine.
They put tiny Heather in a bed with a plastic cover over it and a bright light. They put a black mask over her eyes and otherwise she was totally uncovered. She looked so helpless in there that we were in tears. Every once in while they would come and test her blood by poking a needle in her heal. Soon it was black and blue and we felt so powerless to help her.
After 24 hours like that they said we could take Heather home. We were relieved and by then knew much more about what was wrong. Our relief was short lived however. When Becky took Heather into Dr. Rankin’s office the next day he said she needed to go back under that light. Becky called me in tears from the hospital. When was this going to end!
It did end after 24 more hours under that light and those horrible needle holes in now her other heal. We took her home for good the next day and finally felt some return not to normalcy but more what we expected.
What I was worried about was this “strip the membrane” business. I didn’t know exactly what it meant and it sounded very ominous! I didn’t want to appear stupid so I didn’t ask but wanted to say, “ So, what does that mean?” I don’t recall hearing the term before that time so I cringed when I heard it and hear it I did! It seemed like that week I must have heard it a thousand times. It was as though everyone knew the term bothered me and they enjoyed watching me react. Even now it causes an adverse reaction with me.
Friday came and no baby! Becky went in to the doctor’s office about 2 o’clock that afternoon and the doctor did the “strip the membrane” business. He said it won’t be long now and sent Becky home. It wasn’t until about 10 o’clock that night that there was some action.
We took Angie to my parent’s house and we went to the hospital. Becky was having contractions but they were too far apart. Gradually, they got closer and closer but as time wore on Becky became exhausted! Becky’s Mom arrived sometime in the morning and I took a break and went home for a while to rest. The pains were getting pretty intense and when it looked like the baby would soon be born, they gave Becky an epidural, which helped her a lot. But, since there was no pain the nurses had to tell her when to push. The miracle happened at 2:58 PM!
The doctor said that Becky and the baby were fine! I went downstairs at the hospital and filled out the papers for Heather Anne Ross. Sometime after that though there was concern!
Someone said Heather was a Bileruben baby. No one offered us any information about exactly what that was and I think we were afraid to ask. I think it was my mother who finally explained it to me. It was fairly common and my mother said they used to take care of it by setting a new baby in the sun until their liver begins to fully function. Untreated it can lead to mental retardation. We were horrified but everyone assured us that she would be fine.
They put tiny Heather in a bed with a plastic cover over it and a bright light. They put a black mask over her eyes and otherwise she was totally uncovered. She looked so helpless in there that we were in tears. Every once in while they would come and test her blood by poking a needle in her heal. Soon it was black and blue and we felt so powerless to help her.
After 24 hours like that they said we could take Heather home. We were relieved and by then knew much more about what was wrong. Our relief was short lived however. When Becky took Heather into Dr. Rankin’s office the next day he said she needed to go back under that light. Becky called me in tears from the hospital. When was this going to end!
It did end after 24 more hours under that light and those horrible needle holes in now her other heal. We took her home for good the next day and finally felt some return not to normalcy but more what we expected.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
The Last Trip
The last of the three summer trips that Becky and I participated in was probably the most eventful. During at least one of the summers there were two trips but Becky and I only went on one each summer for three year. Participants paid to go along. I don’t remember how much but I would guess it was three or four hundred dollars. Many earned their own money to go. They also needed spending money and were responsible for their own gear. The latter was a new challenge for some but they learned quickly that they suffered if they lost or misplaced something important.
For the last trip we traveled across Nebraska and stopped at a park and campground called Mormon Island just outside of Grand Island. It was a beautiful setting in the middle of wide-open Nebraska. Late that night some young Japanese travelers came into the campground in their VW and set up a tent not far from us. It wasn’t long before a park officer and a deputy sheriff roared up, light flashing, the officers jumped out of their vehicles and started shouting and ordering the Japanese to leave the campground. There was a lot of pushing and shoving by the officers. John Becker and I felt like we should intervene but knew if we did we would be gone, too. I was never so embarrassed to be an American! One of the officers shouted as they shoved them and their gear back into the VW, “We had enough or your kind in World War II!”
We traveled into Wyoming the next day and stayed near Sheraton. From there it was on to Jackson Hole for the night. We had a beautiful campsite and met a bunch of Jewish kids traveling. We had a great time that evening around the campfire as we all sang and they taught us to do the hora. We fell asleep that night listening to a large group of Mormons singing hymns. It was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on a retreat. We heard them a second time in rehearsal a few days later in Salt Lake City.
We stayed in Bountiful, Utah. The campground was in a huge grove of Bing cherry trees and we got there just in time. We gorged on the delicious fruit. While we were there we visited Mormon Square and toured the visitor center there. We weren’t allowed to go in the temple but still had a very interesting time.
The kids were on their own when we visited places like that. We always gave them a schedule of when to meet and strange as it may sound we never lost a kid. At the end of that day in Salt Lake City we did find out that one of our group members did spend his entire day going up and down on an elevator in one of the cities tall buildings. Obviously, it was very easy to entertain some of us.
While we were in that area we also went for a swim in the Salt Lake. I don’t recommend it. Oh, it fun to be so buoyant but you are miserable when you get out and the salty water begins to dry on you. We also visited the huge Kennecott Copper Mine.
The last day in the area Becky became very ill with what we now think was toxic shock. We were forced to take her to the emergency room. They really weren’t much help and said she would just have to wait for the diarrhea and vomiting to pass. Becky and I ended up staying in a motel room that night just so she could get some rest. The other adults were very jealous but didn’t really want to trade places with Becky.
We traveled from Salt Lake to western Colorado. We had a very interesting time at Dinosaur National Monument and then after a very long day, camped along the river in Glenwood Springs.
They next day we drove to Granby, then over Trailridge Road, and then on to Estes Park where we stayed at the Red Arrow Campground. We liked that spot and had stayed there on a pervious trip. We had originally planned to stay in a campground down in Big Thompson Canyon but had changed our mind because of the proximity of the Red Arrow Campground to the activities in the area.
Rain set in and curtailed our activities. Typically, it rains briefly everyday, passes and the sun comes out. That was not the case this time. The second day, a large group of us climbed Longs Peak. It rained on us almost continuously the last five hours of the trip back. That evening in the activity center at the campground they told us it had rained two and a half inches. That was almost unheard of there. Soggy gear and bad tempers seemed to take over.
The next day, a Saturday, was worse. It rained ten and a half inches that day. It was July 31, 1976. One hundred and forty-four people were killed that day as a fifty-foot wall of water raced through the canyon devastating everything in its path.
I remember taking some of our kids to Our Lady of the Mountain Catholic church for the eight o’clock service because we planned to leave for home early next morning. I waited for them in the van. I watched the pouring rain and waves of water two or three inches deep sweep across the parking lot. I saw a highway patrol car and a county maintainer truck race down into the canyon with lights flashing. Neither survived.
We spend that night sleeping on the floor with a lot of other campers in the activity center because our gear was soaked. In the morning they informed us we couldn’t leave if we were going east or south because all of the roads were closed. We did get to leave about 10:30 but had no idea what we had just survived.
As we went south through Boulder and then east toward Iowa the story unfolded on the radio. First, it was just one life was lost and then more. It gradually occurred to us that we had by chance just sidestepped a tragic event. We stopped in western Nebraska to let our kids call home and spread the word that all were safe and well. The whole incident traumatized us and the group never had another trip.
For the last trip we traveled across Nebraska and stopped at a park and campground called Mormon Island just outside of Grand Island. It was a beautiful setting in the middle of wide-open Nebraska. Late that night some young Japanese travelers came into the campground in their VW and set up a tent not far from us. It wasn’t long before a park officer and a deputy sheriff roared up, light flashing, the officers jumped out of their vehicles and started shouting and ordering the Japanese to leave the campground. There was a lot of pushing and shoving by the officers. John Becker and I felt like we should intervene but knew if we did we would be gone, too. I was never so embarrassed to be an American! One of the officers shouted as they shoved them and their gear back into the VW, “We had enough or your kind in World War II!”
We traveled into Wyoming the next day and stayed near Sheraton. From there it was on to Jackson Hole for the night. We had a beautiful campsite and met a bunch of Jewish kids traveling. We had a great time that evening around the campfire as we all sang and they taught us to do the hora. We fell asleep that night listening to a large group of Mormons singing hymns. It was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on a retreat. We heard them a second time in rehearsal a few days later in Salt Lake City.
We stayed in Bountiful, Utah. The campground was in a huge grove of Bing cherry trees and we got there just in time. We gorged on the delicious fruit. While we were there we visited Mormon Square and toured the visitor center there. We weren’t allowed to go in the temple but still had a very interesting time.
The kids were on their own when we visited places like that. We always gave them a schedule of when to meet and strange as it may sound we never lost a kid. At the end of that day in Salt Lake City we did find out that one of our group members did spend his entire day going up and down on an elevator in one of the cities tall buildings. Obviously, it was very easy to entertain some of us.
While we were in that area we also went for a swim in the Salt Lake. I don’t recommend it. Oh, it fun to be so buoyant but you are miserable when you get out and the salty water begins to dry on you. We also visited the huge Kennecott Copper Mine.
The last day in the area Becky became very ill with what we now think was toxic shock. We were forced to take her to the emergency room. They really weren’t much help and said she would just have to wait for the diarrhea and vomiting to pass. Becky and I ended up staying in a motel room that night just so she could get some rest. The other adults were very jealous but didn’t really want to trade places with Becky.
We traveled from Salt Lake to western Colorado. We had a very interesting time at Dinosaur National Monument and then after a very long day, camped along the river in Glenwood Springs.
They next day we drove to Granby, then over Trailridge Road, and then on to Estes Park where we stayed at the Red Arrow Campground. We liked that spot and had stayed there on a pervious trip. We had originally planned to stay in a campground down in Big Thompson Canyon but had changed our mind because of the proximity of the Red Arrow Campground to the activities in the area.
Rain set in and curtailed our activities. Typically, it rains briefly everyday, passes and the sun comes out. That was not the case this time. The second day, a large group of us climbed Longs Peak. It rained on us almost continuously the last five hours of the trip back. That evening in the activity center at the campground they told us it had rained two and a half inches. That was almost unheard of there. Soggy gear and bad tempers seemed to take over.
The next day, a Saturday, was worse. It rained ten and a half inches that day. It was July 31, 1976. One hundred and forty-four people were killed that day as a fifty-foot wall of water raced through the canyon devastating everything in its path.
I remember taking some of our kids to Our Lady of the Mountain Catholic church for the eight o’clock service because we planned to leave for home early next morning. I waited for them in the van. I watched the pouring rain and waves of water two or three inches deep sweep across the parking lot. I saw a highway patrol car and a county maintainer truck race down into the canyon with lights flashing. Neither survived.
We spend that night sleeping on the floor with a lot of other campers in the activity center because our gear was soaked. In the morning they informed us we couldn’t leave if we were going east or south because all of the roads were closed. We did get to leave about 10:30 but had no idea what we had just survived.
As we went south through Boulder and then east toward Iowa the story unfolded on the radio. First, it was just one life was lost and then more. It gradually occurred to us that we had by chance just sidestepped a tragic event. We stopped in western Nebraska to let our kids call home and spread the word that all were safe and well. The whole incident traumatized us and the group never had another trip.
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