JimBlackBooks.com
1950 - 1959 (Cont'd)
If nothing else, the suggestion that a book about the trials and tribulations, joys and sorrows, laughter and tears (not to mention learning experiences) suffered and shared as students at Archer City Elementary, Junior High and/or High School, in the building, on the field, in the gym or band hall, or in the old white house that served as a cafeteria and homemaking room has garnered a torrent of stories, many of which are remembered differently by various "story tellers" over the past few months. Seems like anytime two or more of "us" get together the stories begin.
My grandmother, Mollie Gowdy, and my mother, Margaret Ellen Slack taught in that building and my grandfather helped build the tall, stately structure as could be attested by his family name being inscribed on a block of the sidewalk leading to the "girls" entrance at the north end of the building. Woe to the boy that stepped on that walk or entered that door or to the girl that did the same on the "boys" walk or entrance at the south end. During the eleven years that I was a student there, Mr. Gerron, the superintendent commanded a very tight ship and most of us were scared to death to buck him----in the daytime that is. Some of the boys in my class report having expressed their sentiments by decorating a white sheet with Nazi symbols and hanging it between the two front doors under the light of the moon by holding the ankles of one of their classmates and dangling him off the roof so that he could attach it to the building. I understand Mr. Ensey had a heck of a time trying to figure out how it got there and how to get it down. This was primarily a protest over not being allowed in the "new" gym (now the school library in the elementary building) on weekends or holidays to practice hook shots or whatever. Also the mandate that not a foot could touch the grass in front of the building and that before school and after recesses and after lunch boys lined up in a straight line in front of their door and girls in front of their door with NO talking, pushing, pinching or tripping waiting for the bell to indicate time to enter the building. I was also reminded of a trip to Mr. Gerron's office that six or eight of "us girls" had to make after having, again, by the light of the moon, painted the wooden fence that surrounded the football stadium/rodeo grounds. How were the culprits identified? Well, silly us, the paint depicted our basketball numbers!
When I was really young I used to love to go visit Sook and Andy at the "Little Store" that stood where Head Start is now. I lived a block and a half from the school and remember numerous times that Dad would give me a quarter to go buy him a pack of Camels and I could spend the change. i could actually buy something with the two pennies left over. But as I got a little older I hated going in there because high school boys hung out there and the smoke was so thick it fogged my glasses and I couldn't see to buy my dad's cigarettes or spend my change. That was before Ruby Campbell had her store on farther down the street. That was the place kids hung out when I came back years later to teach elementary school music, and later as school counselor and then still later, diagnostician. During one of those later years when computers were just becoming a tool at school I was walking up the sidewalk toward school and noticed on the sidewalk a mouse pad that someone must have tossed from the upstairs window. So remembering Mr. Gerron's rule that we didn't clutter the schoolyard, I picked it up and took it straight to the principal's office. I'm not sure if it was Mr. Venhouse, Tom Little, Tony Daniel or Steve Harris that sat behind the desk that year but it was Jane Taliaferro who let out a scheech that brought him running with a bottle of hand sanitizer. Heck, what did I know? I'd never been in the boy's john or seen or even heard of a urinal pad!
Once when Mrs. Heard held a recital held at the ACHS auditorium, my sister Ceil played a very show-off piece called Falling Waters or Rippling Waters or something that was all over the piano in fast time and ended in a big glissando. At the end, we thought the audience would clap, but they laughed. (then clapped) She asked Mother why they laughed. “Because,” she said, “after all that showing off it looked like you flipped your nose at the audience.” “I didn’t!” Ceil cried. “A fly had landed on my nose and I couldn’t wait to finish so I could brush it off, so I just played faster and faster...”
Another time, my sister was standing in front of a shy kid for 10 minutes checking everyone's grades posted in the hall only to discover, when the kid went, “Umph” as she walked away, that she’d been standing on his toe the whole time.
And then there was the time Mr. Gerron sent me home at noon to ask Mom if she could teach that afternoon with my knowing full well that she was playing bridge at Elizabeth Prideaux's. I wanted to be accommodating so I prissed right on over to Elizabeth's and delivered the message not fully realizing that you can't just up and leave a bridge table in full swing. Mom said to tell him that she was sorry, but she was playing bridge with her bridge playing fanny nannies (my insertion) or something like that. Then, on second thought, she said to just tell him she wasn't at home, which was true. So I pranced right back to school as important as any 8-year-old can be and went right up to Mr. Gerron and announced that my mother wasn't at home; then as I turned to leave I said, "She said she was sorry".
There were a bunch of us in Mr. Wilson’s eighth grade class back in the day (I hesitate to use that phrase because I think it's sappy but it does seem to be appropriate here) before students who learned in a different way were in special programs that were geared to their special needs, thus there were several students in most classes that just could not quite comprehend all that was going on most of the time. A storm was brewing and Mr. Wilson, in all his wisdom picked one of those not quite with it students to go to the homemaking cottage and get the girls so that they could come to the brick building and be safe from the storm. When Mr. Gerron found him wandering the halls and quizzed him on why he was in the hall between classes the kid got so nervous he could hardly speak and what Mr. Gerron heard was that Mr. Wilson sent him and when asked why Mr. Wilson had sent him it was because he hit the girls. So without further ado he whisked him into the office, gave him what he felt was a sufficient number of licks and took him back to Mr. Wilson's class. Poor kid never knew what that was all about, but then he rarely did.
One dark night when most of us were sound asleep six brave wildcats decided to climb the water tower in back of the school. After successfully making it to the top they sat there for a while patting themselves on the back for having been so brave and daring and just enjoying the view, the night and each other. Probably spitting a few times and telling a few wild tales. Then they began their descent. All were safely on the ground except Pat Cox who was about halfway there and happened to look down. This was a big mistake. He FROZE! Just could not move. It was as if his fingers were glued to the rungs of the ladder. No amount of teasing, coaxing, nor shaming from below could get him going again. Finally one the boys climbed back up, crawled over him and began loosening his grip while another climbed up below him and picking up one foot at a time and lowering it to the next rung they slowly managed to get him safely down, without calling the fire department for help. I don't think they invited him on their next high adventure.
In the late fifties, early sixties (maybe before and after but these are the years I know about) there was a rash of young marriages among ACHS students. Some of them lasted until the couple got back across the state line and dad found them. Others are still intact so I guess it just depends. One I remember in particular because everyone knew it wouldn't last and it didn't. Years later the couple came face to face in the post office. She was still a looker. He was still a flirt. His greeting in all sincerity was "Don't I know you?” Her response "Well, I guess. You married me about twenty years ago". Another was when a group of alumni were gathered at a homecoming reunion and a boy who was not in attendance was mentioned. Someone asked if he was still married. Which prompted a couple of chuckles and then a guessing game as to who they were and how many there had been. One innocent attendee asked "Who was that ole gal he married first?" Guess what! She just happened to be right handy and replied, "Well, that ole' gal would be me." Then there were those that didn't stand on ceremony, just had a good time. I remember walking home after a ballgame one blustery night when a car pulled over and the driver offered to give me a lift. Grateful to get in out of the cold I crawled in. He took off in the wrong direction from my house and began what I imagine was his favorite line saying that he was so sorry to report that Malena Martin and I were the only two virgins left in ACHS and he would be happy to remedy that awkward situation. Now I thought I knew what a virgin was at the time and I was sure I was one and was pretty sure about my friend, Malena, but boy was I shocked about several of my other friends. My, my, what must go on behind the field house and under the stadiums and in the backseats of cars! Luckily we were not too far from my house, in fact nothing was too far from my house in Archer City, so out I hopped and the weather did not seem near a blustery as it had earlier.
Then there was the time when I first began teaching in AC when I was also a Camp Fire leader and was taking a group of girls on an overnight camp out and Dean Fisher looked me up and offered to "pitch our tents" but with his slight speech impediment or maybe just his sleepy slur it sounded somewhat ribald. I politely refused the offer. That same year some young man walked into my room between classes and said, "I bet you don't remember me" to which I blithely replied as I looked at his name tag which clearly had his name on it "Oh, yes Horace, of course I do" Imagine my dismay when he smiled and said "No, I'm John Walker and I went to school with you. Now I work for Horace Mann publishing Co.". Then there was the time that I could tell, as I played "Carmen" for a group of 8th grade boys, that I was losing them so I hurried up with the story and said "She got stabbed in the end" I'm sure you know one smart response to that "Well, I guess she got the point". It was probably the only thing they heard me say all year. I can still hear that ringing in my ears!
And finally, Venita Adams Tarr (class of '56) tells a great story that bears repeating. In 1944 when she was in the second grade with Mrs. Shelton teaching her to make perfect ovals over and over again in her Big Chief tablet so that she could one day master cursive handwriting, her grandparents, Andy and Sook Myers opened the Little Store adjacent to the school. The Head Start building now owns that corner. On the first or second day after opening, Andy realized that after the kids finished eating in the cafeteria they came in droves for goodies from his store. Not only goodies but cigarettes that were displayed in a can and could be purchased for two cents apiece. He knew he and Sook couldn't handle it alone so he approached Mr. Gerron and initiated what would eventually become the work/study program or distributive education or whatever schools called their program allowing students to work an hour or two a day as well as go to school. Thus, Venita, at age seven began her 11 years of selling penny candy, cokes and that wonderful Neiman Marrcus Chocolate cake iced with frothy seven minute frosting that Sook baked everyday and cut into two inch squares to sell over the counter for a quarter a square. Venita did this every day from eleven to one for the next eleven years. She remembered her granddaddy Andy breaking up crap games high school boys engaged in and chasing them out of his trailer parked next to the store. She also told about the time Sook heard a commotion in the yard between her house and the store and discovered guys hosing one another down with her garden hose. She stepped out to scold them just as Ray Maxwell turned and the full force of water hit her square in the face. Sook was a little ole lady with a sharp tongue and fiery temper when vexed. That particular day she was plenty vexed! Picture Mammy Yoakum lighting into Lil Abner and you can reconstruct the scene. Sadly, in 1958 Sook became ill, Venita had finished school and gotten married and Andy couldn't do it alone, thus the Little Store closed its doors for the last time.
Mary (Slack) Webb – Class of 1957
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In the year of 1945 I, Marcia Ann Farmer, started to school in Archer City at the age of six in the first grade. At that time there was no kindergarten in the Archer City School. I began my education in Archer City and graduated from ACHS in May of 1957, attending all twelve years in the old building. Mr. J.F. Gerron was the superintendent all the years I attended there. He was very firm and had a lot of rules, but was a very good administrator. The boys walked on the left sidewalk leading to the front door and the girls walked on the right sidewalk.
In elementary we walked in lines in the hallways with each class following the class leader chosen that day by our teacher. By the way—no talking in line!
In junior high and high school, boys walked on the left side of the hallway and the girls on the right. The high school principal was Mr. W.D. Jeter and he carried out the rules of Mr. Gerron plus he added few of his own—no holding hands, no talking—disobey and stand in the hall. We learned lots of lessons that taught us how to get ready for the world of life.
Several students either got engaged or married in high school and quit school while others finished high school and went on to college. Times have really changed today compared to how students were treated in the 50s. When you married and started a family, you could not attend classes if you began to show you were going to have a baby. You had to go home and send your lessons to school by a classmate. And you still had to attend the required number of days to pass to the next grade. Now none of Mr. Gerron’s rules apply. Time changes things.
I married in 1954 to Bobby Ross McGriff and graduated in 1957. The class of 1957 has had a class reunion every five years since graduation. Our 60th reunion will be in the year 2017. We have stayed very close all these years. Some of the students who attended ACHS have come back in later years to be teachers, coaches, principals, school board members and employees of the school system.
One of my favorite stories was told by Janet Shields Stubbs, a friend and graduate of Archer City High School and an employee of the school. She was a secretary for the junior high principal and elementary combined. Later she became secretary for the superintendent. When you were secretary, you were a jack of all trades—part time eye examiner, babysitter for those who were sick and nurse for them as there were no hired nurses in the 60s and 70s. Nurses were not hired until the 1980s. Janet told the story of an elementary boy that had gotten sick in class and the teacher sent him to Mrs. Stubbs ‘ office for her help. Janet was always so kind and a very funny and happy person. As the young boy walked into her office he said, “Mrs. Stubbs, I think my bowels have melted.” In telling the story, Janet said, “Had they ever!” The school called the child’s parents and she tended to him before they arrived making the boy feel loved and cared for. What a blessing to have had employees like her to care for our children.
When I think of ACHS or Archer City, I see a loving family, great friends, funny experiences, and a caring dependable community that responds to all kinds of needs. ACHS reminds me of the treat teachers and administrators I had over the years like Mrs. Trent, Mrs. Lassiter, Miss Clark, Mrs. Mullis, Mrs. Beard, Mrs. Spencer, Mrs.Finks, Mr. Wilson, Miss Stout, Mr. Jeter and Mr. Gerron. I see a lifetime of Dreams and Hopes for the future!
Our 50th class reunion was held at the Lonesome Dove Inn in Archer City owned by our classmate Mary Slack Webb. There were seventeen classmates present. The class purchased a granite bench with “Class of 1957” engraved on it and put it at the school at one of the entries into the gym for use by visitors. The Class of ’57 had lost four classmates at the time of that reunion. The Book of Memories created was dedicated to Bobby Hickman, Betty Martin Tarno, Bernard Hilbers and Henry Vieth.
Thanks, ACHS for the memories!
Marcia Farmer McGriff Mahler – Class of 1957
