JimBlackBooks.com
1960 - 1969 (Cont'd)
When I was in the 7th grade, Mr. Fisher, the math teacher at that time, would sit on the south steps during lunch and tell stories.
Clarence (Butch) Hannah – Class of 1966
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Old Memories of school days, some great and some . . . not so much, but loved them all the same!
I did not attend kindergarten, but my brother, Mike, did. Something I meant to ask my parents about because I’m sure I probably needed it more than he.
First grade was a real eye opener for me. Nothing I could have imagined or been told about school could have prepared me for first grade. The first day of school, I remember getting up extra early to get ready and not be late. I was overly excited because it was my first day of real school! My first grade teacher was named Mrs. Bennett. I can still see her holding up that ping pong "paddle" the first day along with the ultimate, verbal warnings! I listened to her every word because I was told by my parents if I were spanked at school that I would have another one to look forward to when I came home. And spankings were not something I treasured.
All was going well or at least I thought until Mrs. Bennett asked me if I had an aunt named Maurine (my dad's youngest sister)? “Yes”, I answered proudly! I remember how excited I was thinking that she already knew someone in my family. But, the next thing she said was, "Well, you look a lot like her minus the light brown hair (she had fiery, red hair), so I hope you don't act like she did when I was her teacher in East Texas. I think I wore out several of these paddles on her!"
After the shock of the first hour and hearing of all the things that could happen to you if you didn't go by her rules, I was horrified and wanted to go home which I knew was not an option. Believe me—I had no intention of doing anything to make Mrs. Bennett unhappy. Next, she began calling the names of all the students in her new first grade class. I observed two things immediately: One, I did not go by two names, and number two, I wasn't kin to anyone in the class or Archer City which my mother would confirm later. I just remember how cute all of their names sounded, e.g. Kathy Jane, Pamela Sue, Betty Jo, Jack Luke, Joe Bob, Billy Wayne. When she got to my name, she asked, "Is this really your middle name, or did the office make a mistake?” I did know my name and how to spell it, and I knew it was correct. Believe me, it did cross my mind to say there was a mistake because I could tell she didn't like it, and no way was she going to call me 'Connie Maurice' every day. I nodded that it was correct, and then she wanted to know if I knew why my parents chose 'Maurice' for my middle name? (Oh God, just please go on to the next name.) "Yes, ma'am; it's my daddy's middle name," I said. "Really," she answered. "Do you know that you have a masculine middle name?” "No ma'am, but thank you for telling me!" Finally, there was relief. She quickly began moving us to what would be our desk and desk partner for the year. She put me and Kathy Jane Seay together. I, already knew that this was a huge mistake because we were more like chatty Kathy and Connie.
Day two of first grade: My mother told me I had to go to school and without question, I went back. The next day Kathy Jane and I were in deep discussion about how we would share the upper and lower level shelves in our desk that held our supplies and books. Of course, we BOTH wanted the top shelf because you didn’t have to bend down to floor to get your supplies/books. We were almost to the details as to how long we would each get to have the top shelf (which was the easiest to reach) before taking our turn with the lower shelf when low and behold, we were taken out in the hall. We were informed that talking and not paying attention and, especially, not listening to Mrs. Bennett was UNACCEPTABLE. She did warn us that while we were out in the hall that she hoped Mr. Hopkins, the principal, would come by with his big paddle and swat us for not paying attention and talking when she was trying to teach. We both sat down and waited and then, we both began to cry. Then, we saw Mr. Hopkins coming our way, so we cried louder. Mr. Hopkins looked like a giant to us. He was big, tall, and muscular with dark, black curly hair. Of course, to first graders everyone looks huge! He asked us why we were in the hall. We told him why and that we were sooo sorry and would never talk or be rude to Mrs. Bennett again. We promised to sit quietly and listen until the last day of school. Mr. Hopkins began to laugh. Then, he bent down and whispered," I'm going to turn you a flip over my shoulder, and when I do, you yell, 'OUCH' as loud as you can.” There was no mention of a spanking. What a relief! I was, already, dreading telling my parents that I had gotten a spanking after two days in first grade knowing I would have another one coming. I was the first one to be flipped over his shoulder. But, in all honesty, I was so terrified of heights that when he flipped me over his shoulder, I was pretty sure I was going to die! At that time, I wasn’t sure if a spanking might have worked best for me.
On to high school . . .
It's true that you never leave your high school memories, and yet, there's no going back. And, sadly, not everyone has the nostalgic, sentimental memories of those glorious four years. I have a difficult time understanding this because I assumed that everyone had the same, wonderful memories that I did at ACHS. And, I cannot imagine going anywhere else to school but in my hometown of Archer City.
The irony is that even your classmates have a different perspective of the same "happenings" that all of you experienced during high school. Discussing a weekend slumber party at one of my old A.C. friend's house a few years back I began to see that my observations were not the same as others in attendance. Truth is always shocking. Ok, I do remember, freezing our bras and putting them on the flag pole in front of the court house that night during a slumber party. I don't remember someone in our group owning an expensive, lace bra that was so damaged from being frozen that her mother was threatening to call our parents to ask them to pay for a replacement. I do remember seeing the court house flag pole from the window of my mother's dress shop across the street. And, I, definitely, remember my mother’s comments that included, "those girls should be ashamed of themselves because they are not growing up to be young ladies that parents could be proud of and not to mention what the community must think of them when they saw bras flying on our nation’s flag pole.” I did begin praying really hard and making some pretty outrageous promises to God on a daily basis that she would not find out that I was a part of that group of girls.
I was pretty sure that God probably remembered me begging for forgiveness early on in second grade when another little friend and I were walking around the block smoking stolen cigarettes taken right from my mother’s purse. My mother had gone to work at the dress shop, and, why oh why, did we choose to walk down the middle of the street smoking? Low and behold, a neighbor pulled over in her car and told us she was going straight to town and tell my mother. Thinking I could discourage her, I immediately spoke up and said, "Oh, that's fine. She doesn't care that we're smoking because she gave the cigarettes to us before she went to work.” Lying or smoking was not acceptable, and I got what I deserved.
The emotional ties that come from getting to know everyone and their families on a personal basis in a small town are comparable to nothing else I know. And best of all, you keep in contact with them for a lifetime. As I age, I have grown more gracious, and I appreciate seeing my oldest, dearest friends from time to time. Those high school classmates that we share the deepest common bond to this day, and there is no one on earth that can share those memories with you except them. It is bittersweet to see my old high school being torn down, but having grandchildren, I am well aware of the need for mandatory technology changes that happen daily. I might not be able to see the brick building, but I know I will never, ever forget the joy that took place inside there. Moreover, the most wonderful friends and friendships that are still thriving today are irreplaceable because I attended school in Archer City for twelve, wonderful years. As the old saying goes, “Change is inevitable, but misery is optional.” I choose to keep my memories and my friends close to my heart. I am positive that attending Archer City High School and living in Archer City, Texas, have provided me with lifetime memories that are, to this day, some of the biggest blessings in my life!
Connie Atchley Martin – Class of 1966
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I have to start with my mother, Lorene Wright. She graduated from ACHS in 1941. My Aunt Eunice Wright was in the first graduating class. One of my sisters, Phyllis or Kathy, has her annual. Mom was an identical twin with my Aunt Judy. My granddad, Zeddy Watts, was the high school custodian when Mom was growing up. He thought the teachers were the finest people on earth, so my sisters, one of my daughters, and I all became teachers. When Mom and Aunt Judy were in first grade, the teachers decided to put them in separate classes. Mom and Aunt Judy started crying so hard, they called Granddad. He came down and held Mom and Aunt Judy and said, “Aww, I guess you better keep these girls together,” so they were in the same room all the way through graduation. Mom was a strong believer in education. I never remember a day in my life not thinking I was going to college when I got out of high school. I also knew I was going to teach. Mom said I was. She did let all three of us decide what we wanted to teach, though.
Where do I begin with so many memories?
In 3rd grade I had on my new winter coat. I don't know if Mom made it, I'm pretty sure she did, but it had quarter-sized buttons with metal rounded edges on it. Why and how I had one of those in my mouth, I'll never know, but then I'm not sure why I did 90% of the things I've done most of my life, but I did. And of course, I swallowed that button. Mrs. Wells looked at me and said, "Did you swallow that?" Goggled-eyed I answered, "Yes, ma'am." She took me straight to the office (a phrase that will be repeated often in my stories) and called my mother. Mom picked me up and took me instantly to the hospital, but not before she told Mrs. Wells told me that button cost 50 cents. (In 1955 when one cent would buy five pieces of candy at Ruby's.) I can still remember seeing that button in my tummy on the x-ray. Of course everything was fine until I got home.
In 5th grade Buddy Knox was my boyfriend. I knew because he threw a Firestick at me everyday at lunch. (Five cents at Ruby's). I told mom I had a boyfriend. She asked whom. I said Buddy Knox; she said, “Oh Lord.” (Mom went to school with Buddy's dad in AC). She saw Buddy at school one day and said, "Well, no wonder, he's the cutest kid up there!"
We learned our directions in 5th grade, Mrs. Gann’s class. To this day when I get turned around, I put myself in her classroom—teacher’s desk west, back wall east, windows south, lockers north. I’m 68 years old!
Mr. Fisher spanked me in 6th grade for failing a spelling test. I had an ear infection; I couldn’t hear…why I didn’t tell him is unclear. Mom came to school, gave Mr. Fisher a tongue lashing, then took me home. That’s the ONLY time she came to school because I’d gotten in trouble that I wasn’t in 10 times more trouble when I got home.
In 8th grade I had Nell Trent. She belonged to the Christian Church, so we saw her every Sunday. I wasn’t about to do anything wrong in her class because I didn’t want Mom to know. Consequentially, I taught English for most of my teaching life. I majored in Physical Education because basketball was my love, and I wanted to coach, but I minored in and got my Master’s (Go, TCU) in English.
In Mr. Weaver’s 8th grade class for some reason my friends—we called ourselves a Click (not clique—which is what we were) decided to dump our purses (we carried large ones that looked like overnight bags) when the clock hit 10:35. When the clock hit 10:35, we dumped them one after another. We were sent to the office; we all got sent home. Mom was not kind when we got home.
My Click consisted of Dana Burkett, Melissa Powell, Kathy Seay, Connie Atchley and me. We got into lots of mischief in and out of school. I enjoyed every minute of my high school years.
I went to the 8th grade banquet with Mickey Horany. We laughed and talked and danced the night away. That was Mickey’s and my first date. I still count Mickey as one of my best friends ever. Today I know if I need something, Mickey will be here. He’s a forever friend.
I made the varsity basketball team when I was a freshman. For a while I was on the varsity and junior varsity, so I got to play twice as much. I loved it. I even loved practice. I also loved off season because Bobby Ray worked with us, and I absolutely worshiped him. I hung on to every word he said most of my life. He coached at Richland High School when I coached at Watauga JH both in the Birdville District. My kids didn’t feed to Richland, but I never missed a game Coach Ray coached because I learned so much. I went to Jeff and Mike Ray’s games when they were in AC and in college because I knew Coach Ray would be there. I would sit as close to him as possible, so I could hear every word he said. He was so good with Mike and Jeff. He was truly a great man and a great teacher.
I played in the band, piccolo, when Ellen Campbell graduated. I played the flute until then. I loved and hated band. All my friends were band, so I enjoyed that. I didn’t practice and didn’t try very hard…one of many of my life’s regrets. We all loved Dick Perot when he was our band director. I was mortally afraid of him, so I behaved in class, and he was awesome. Band was the most fun with Mr. Perot. My junior year Phyllis was nominated for band sweetheart. I sat in the front of the band, and nobody in front of me but my friends were voting for Phyl. My heart sank; I looked behind me and Joe David Cameron had the entire brass section standing up for Phyllis. I loved Joe David more from that moment on…
We had basketball 5th period, so we had about five minutes to get dressed and ready for class. We had one shower that worked, and Virginia Wylie and I showered everyday together in that one shower. We were confused because nobody else showered….guess there was no room in the shower.
The high school was on the third story of the building, so at lunch, the entire high school would go up the stairs together. When my poor little shy baby sister, Kathy, was a freshman, she unfortunately was walking in front of Melissa Powell and me. One of us, I think it was Melissa, and she’s not here to defend herself (Gosh, I miss her.) reached up and pulled Kathy’s half slip down to her ankles. We held on to each other we laughed so hard while little shy Kathy sneaked into the typing room and pulled her slip up. I’ve been apologizing for fifty years for that.
I got cheerleader my junior year, and that is one of the best years of my life. In 1964 I was the Archer County Rodeo Queen, then my junior year started. All the guys Coach Graves started as freshmen were now seniors, and he said we were going to win state. We all know the story of that…there’s a book about it—“Miracle on the Gridiron.” It’s a great read. I highly recommend it.
As cheerleaders we did something special every week to get our spirit up for each game. One week we baked a cake (I’m sure Trecie baked or Judy Ann baked). The 50th person to say, “Beat the Crowell Wildcats” to our mystery person (Vickie Perdue) would win the cake. Gary Tepfer won it. I said I got to give him the cake. Trecie said, “Oh, no, we’re going to draw straws. Whoever gets the short straw gets to give Gary his cake.” I don’t remember who prepared the straws, but, of course, I got the short one. And Coach Graves who demanded stoicism from the football team said Gary could come get it during the pep rally. As luck would have it, Coach Graves also belonged to the Christian Church, so mom was elected to ask him if we could give Gary the cake. She asked him at church; he acquiesced. Gary got the cake. I gave it to him. Good times…
Austin was awesome when we played there. Gary got knocked out right after half time, I think. We were all petrified he was seriously hurt. Of course we were worried about his health, but it would have been a long second half without Gary. He played the entire half and didn’t remember it all. He even tucked me under his arm and carried me off the field. They said they'd turn the sprinklers on if the crowd came on the field. We did, and they did. We were all soaking wet. Gary was named All State Fullback that year. The entire town was at the game, and I think everybody in town was in our hotel. Mike and Judy, Barry and Trecie, Barney and Sue Ann, and Gary and I got to eat at the iHop at two in the morning. I had enchiladas. I still remember how good they were. Everything we did was new and different and such a great experience.
Football ruled that year. Words cannot tell you the fun we had. Then to play in Austin for state and WIN…wow. Who could ask for a better high school life than that?
I had Mrs. Crowley for English my sophomore, junior and senior years. Mom said it was about time I got lucky! She worried about Phyl and Kathy, though when they didn't have Mrs. Crowley. Our senior year she required we write an original short story. Mine was about Jack Daniels and Jim Beam, and it involved a gun fight. Great stuff. Mom typed it for me; she made mistakes. Mrs. Crowley said we couldn't have any mistakes, including typographical one. When mom handed it to me, she said, "Tell Mrs. Crowley she better not take off for typographical errors because she taught me to type." I, hesitantly, reminded Mrs. Crowley had taught Mom to type. She let me correct it with ink and did not count off for typing. I remember Jack Kirkland skipping when it was his turn to hang out the attendance slip. I remember giving my oral report on mythology and calling Romulus' and Remus' mother a dumb broad, and Mrs. Crowley laying her head on her desk and repeating, "Sit down, Jodie, sit down, Jodie, sit down, Jodie."
Beer and vodka we will mix, senior class of “66 was my senior class motto. We thought we were bad. We all talked too much, laughed too loud, and had a blast. If we were together, we had fun. We still do when Connie Atchley or Phyl and Kathy host us all at their homes for reunions.
Jodie (Wright) Tepfer – Class of 1966
