Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Yes Dear - Blizzard of ’15 Edition


Little overdue with my periodic commemoration of life…my second one.  Wife saved my life almost 5-years ago and after the last go around with the doc and his vampire, he just said, “keep up the good work, see you next year.”


So, thoughts drifted back to the beginning, long time ago.  An extended bachelorhood established certain benchmarks….a 4-roll pack of toilet paper lasts a week or two in a bachelor’s apartment.  Add a woman, and that 4-pack is shot in a day or so.



“Honey, we need some more toilet paper.”



“Didn’t I just buy some yesterday?”



“Honey, we need some more toilet paper.”  So, I buy two 4-packs.



Couple of days later, “Honey, we need some more toilet paper.”



“Didn’t I just, ah…oh, never mind.”  So, I buy six 4-packs and stack them in the front foyer…a small pyramid of toilet paper.   

My gesture doesn’t go over well.



Adding wife to my comfortably predictable home life all those years ago introduced a number new concepts I had never before considered.  We quickly became major consumers of Kimberly-Clark, Georgia-Pacific and Weyerhaeuser forest products….Bounty Towels and Kleenex etc.  Bounty, the best picker-upper…she uses each towel once to wipe up a couple of stray drops then, tosses it.



“You can use those good ones more than once,” I suggest…..no response.



“If you’re intent on using each towel but once, why don’t we buy the El Cheapo towels, instead?” 



“Germs,” she sniffs.



Cases of Kleenex….a bachelor just uses the toilet paper…an elegant dual use concept.



No response.




“Look at that lady over there.  She’s getting her own stock of Bounty in ahead of the storm.”



No response... 

Well, at least we've figured out how to reduce the trips to the store for this kind of stuff to about every other week rather than every other day all those years ago.



...and the beat goes on...
 

Friday, January 23, 2015

The EHHS Social Order – 10.1 – (More) Meadowbrook Moms


My musings about our moms tend to focus on how they might have interacted with one another and how those interactions might have affected our own social connections.  While they certainly had significant control over that aspect of our lives through the junior high years, I'm fairly certain their influence significantly faded after we started at EH fall 1960.  By then, we had substantially sorted out our own social preferences and had certainly done so as we started dating one another.  For the more precocious of us, dating might have started as early as age 13, or grade 8.  I think a common starting age for our real dating involving some preliminary romancing and testing of limits probably conincided with our obtaining that magnificent freedom ticket, a driver’s license…about age 16.  Maybe a year, or so earlier for the girls.


Partly due to our previously described staggered arrivals at puberty, boys were at a huge disadvantage to the girls in their own class during those seminal early dating years.  More about that in the next article or two.  Still, it's worth noting a few traces of the moms' involvement that survive, and appear as indistinct hints in our ancient scrapbooks.Published in a couple of c.1957-60 Meadowlark school newspapers are references to some of the parties, their hosts, and their venues where celebrations of various milestones and holidays were marked.  There is enough detail in the student authored newspaper articles to make a few assumptions about the social atmosphere of that time.




For instance, two of the 8th grade girls (future EH Class of 1962) sent 88 invitations to a party they (their moms, most likely) were hosting at the Sagamore Hill Rec center.  Since their class numbered about twice as many as the 88 invitees, the clear inference is that half or more of their class did not get an invitation.  Although the reasons for omission could likely have been perfectly legitimate, the omissions could also have caused a significant amount of heartburn among those excluded from the list.  In contrast, the school-sponsored dances were open to anyone with a quarter and a desire to attend ....another Meadowlark article reported attendance at one of those school dances to also be about half the student body or, over 300.


Further reflections of our moves toward maturity and socialization were to be seen in the active attention given to clothing styles and a number of fashion style shows featured in the school newspapers of the day. 
Home Economics classes were popular and provided (girls mostly) the opportunity to showcase their budding homemaking skills as they prepared food and beverages to be served at a number of school functions.  Developing real men of the time didn’t take these home-ec classes…pity, we were dumb and missed a great opportunity to tilt the numbers advantage our way.

The 1950s was a decade of stay at home moms many of whom, after working during the war effort as young women, were encouraged by our government to quit working and raise families.  Some of those young post WWII families were ours although some of our peers’ parents could be up to 10-15 years older.  In some cases, that difference in parents’ ages could contribute to significant differences in our living standards since they had been in the workforce longer and had achieved some additional growth as a result.

During the 1950s, those families starting to see growing incomes, began to have disposable funds sufficient enough to join or consider joining one of the Ft. Worth country clubs.  Self-employed could deduct the cost as a business expense and those I recall of our classmates’ families that belonged to some of the clubs tended to be small business owners.  The Ft. Worth area country clubs had been established around the city starting roughly with the 1911 opening of River Crest located near the western terminus of West 7th Street in what was to become Ft. Worth’s most prestigious neighborhood of the same name.  Star-Telegram publisher, Amon Carter was one of that neighborhood’s early residents.  The next blog article is a summary of those country clubs.

The effect one of our peer classmate’s membership in those clubs had on our East Side social order was minimal and subject to the youngster’s own standing within our class.  Probably contributing to that situation was the fact that the clubs were all located in other parts of the city posing a bit of a restraint to easy, neighborhood access.  We had the city-owned Meadowbrook CC, which was a modest facility by comparison.  Nonetheless, the MBCC clubhouse was a common venue for parties and dances both school supported and private mini-shindigs.

As an indication of just how pervasive the influence of the junior high cliques could be, my Mother accepted participation on my behalf with some other Moms as they planned to host an invitation only Christmas dance at the MBCC.  Trouble was, she didn’t bother to consult with me first and sprung it on me along with a printed invitation noting the sponsoring youngsters.  There was certainly no problem with those youngsters, except they were NOT in the clique I was seeking to align with.  This was a horrible surprise to an uncertain 14-year old and, given the strength of those adolescent cliques could spell the death knell to about a year’s posturing to that point.  Amusing now, tragic then…and a sad commentary.

Reading some of these old bits of ephemera now provides an occasional hint of things to come; the things we couldn't have known or even recognized then.  One such instance is found in the nearby column that mentions the Women's Club as a venue for the MJH 9th grade end of year dance with music to be provided by "some college boys."


The significance of the "Women's Club" reference, I'm sure went right by nearly all of us.  Someone associated with MJH PTA either was a member of the Fort Worth Women's Club or had the notion to use the facility for the dance.  The Women's Club was established very early in the 20th century and is/was a solid connection to "old Ft. Worth" society activities.  In my mind, this connection suggests the reason so much attention was paid to getting our younger incarnations tamed, into white sport-coats, and introduced to dancing lessons and pretty party dresses.  More on this in the next few chapters....




Adios
 
 
  

 

Monday, January 19, 2015

Little School - We were poor, obviously neglected and deprived, and it was absolutely glorious.


 Little School Life
(aka Tater Hill)

Little School, now a modern facility known as JB Little in
Arlington, is an old country school.  It was built probably not long after the turn of the last century.

When I attended it was a single story white frame building containing 6 classrooms, grades 1 thru 6, and a principal's office.  The bathrooms had been added and were outside in their own building a few steps away. As I recall the lunchroom was also a separate building, as was a small auditorium.

The school served a very large area of rural
Tarrrant County.  Some kids probably lived 12 or 15 miles from others. All kids were bussed, on several different routes, to school. Few or none walked and no mothers drove their kids to school.  For this reason there was nothing much in the way of before or after school activities.  The classes were small, probably 15 or 20 kids per grade.  Because of this small class size there were no real "cliques", just a mild gradation from more popular to less popular.   We were all generally even lower on the economic scale than the Handley kids.  Most of us lived on acreages or at least large lots.  Many families did some small scale farming and several still kept livestock.

Our school experience was almost 19th century.  Not very different  from that of our fathers or even grandfathers.  When school started the boys went barefoot until the weather changed.  Besides maybe a swing set and merry-go-round, our recess activities were ad hoc, unsupervised and generally very rough. We had no gym, we wrestled constantly and freestyle, played Red Rover, Crack the Whip and a vicious form of Dodge Ball.  A favorite contest of the boys was to climb to the top of the 30 foot flagpole. Minor injuries were common.  Everyone in charge of the school today would be arrested for what they permitted us to do daily.

Many of the families had lived in the area for generations and were inter-connected by blood and marriage.  There were often several sets of related kids at the school forming "clans" across class levels, for mutual support and even protection.  I had several uncles that attended before me, and had my younger sister and three cousins there at the same time.  A most important social grouping was formed by which school bus route you rode. The wait at the bus stop,  the long rides to and from school were  an important social time, and if you were lucky a few of those kids of your age would live within a mile or two and you could socialize after school and on weekends. 

There were essentially no organized activities for us either during the year or in the summer, unless a parent was willing to go to heroic efforts. The exception was a small  Boy Scout Troop. We were, I'm sure almost exclusively one car families, so no soccer moms were available.  No little league baseball, no peewee football, no shooting hoops after school, no available swimming pools.  We learned to swim sneaking away to a muddy pond in the woods, and oh, watch out for water moccasins.

Two events of the year were of supreme importance to us.  A school sponsored trip to the Fat Stock Show, and just before summer, a trip to
Forest Park.  That trip to Forest Park was like a trip to Disneyland is now.  Then we were turned loose on the world for summer.  I was lucky in that there were a half dozen or so boys of close enough age,  that lived close enough to get together by bicycle.  We left home in the morning an returned just before dark.  We formed a small semi-feral pack that roamed the abundant woods for miles around, fishing the ponds, hunting with our (gasp!) BB guns and exploring the banks of Village Creek, this was before Lake Arlington. We were  searching for Indian artifacts that were found there. There were no parks with baseball diamonds or jungle gyms.  We did however have an area where wild grapevines had covered several acres of the tops of tall oak trees.  We would climb to the top of the trees 30 or 40 feet up and spend hours chasing each other through the dense canopy of vines from tree to tree.  We were poor, obviously neglected and deprived, and it was absolutely glorious.

What we were, was not very well socialized by the norms of the times.  When we were thrown into Handley and then Eastern Hills, it was almost like going to school in a foreign country, and we lived so far out we couldn't even try to participate in that social whirl until we got cars of our own.  By then it was just too late. We were more or less permanently marginalized.  We stuck together, hunkered down and survived. Very few of us actually thrived.  I was actually advantaged that I had moved around so often and attended all kinds of schools and was better prepared to cope.  I think many of my old Little, or as we called it Little's, schoolmates were just bewildered by it all. It was not a particularly positive or enjoyable experience. Maybe for that reason I was the only member of my "pack" to go on  to college as far as I know.  Most joined the military or went to work right out of EH.  Going to Little's School in the early 1950's was in itself a wonderful experience, and I sometimes pity my own boys who enjoyed a more "Meadowbrook" existence.  But the cost of that "idyllic" boyhood proved to be socially prohibitive at EHHS. 





 

Adios



Monday, November 10, 2014

1963 – 1964 Lad and Lassie TARTAN Features


The Lad and Lassie feature in the EH student newspaper, THE TARTAN, are interesting reading and provide a glimpse of a number of young people just at the beginning of their adult life, now over 50-years ago.

There were 14 of these features published over the 1963-64 school year; all of them are published here.  I have no idea how the subjects were chosen, but do recognize that they are some of the more prominent members of the 1964 class. 

Last year’s Class of 1963 Lad and Lassies are HERE.


Steve Rose & Barbara Isham:




Leslie Jackson & Brenda Haire:



Steve Marsh & Sandra Vasquez:
 

Ted Moberg & Myriam Hubbard:


Stewart Mathis & Charlyne Woodard:
 

Roby Morris & Bee Sterett:
 

David Thurman & Sheila Ward:
 

Bob Hillert & Vickie Reas:
 

David Richardson & Sherri Sledge:
 

Mike Liddle & Donna Johnson:
 

Randy Kunze & Sylvia Callaway:
 

Tim Blocker & Karen Buckingham:
 

Buzz Gardner & Jere Miller:
 


Adios

Friday, October 31, 2014

Trick and Treat



James, my FB avitar is reminiscent of the last time that crew, we've had fun recalling, went out trick or treating.  The crew's composition varied a little but, nearly always included Tate and Dillard who were also the chief instigators of whatever mischief we got into.

We’re out, probably Halloween 1959 or 1960, 15/16 years old, raising hell around the neighborhoods in Cooper’s old Chevy when Tate or Dillard spot some tykes crossing a lawn, their bags stuffed with their loot.  Don’t recall who yelled out the suggestion…but, the call to mischief went something like, “Let’s trick or treat those kids”

Coop locked the brakes and 5 or 6 pre-juvenile delinquents jumped out of the Chevy, arms waving, yelling, “Trick or Treat.”  Now, if you recall that crew, they were all large lads, by this time at or past 6’ tall, most of them football players.


Those poor little tykes didn’t hesitate an instant…they dropped their loot bags and ran for the hills!  Of course, that left a lot of loot on the ground and saved the trouble of having to find a sheet to throw over a 6’ frame and suffer the adults’ admonitions of our being too old for trick or treating.

I hope we left most of that loot where it fell, although it’s likely, given that crew’s composition, some of it was picked up and taken away.  Always felt kind of bad about that one on account of the kids’ reactions being so instantaneous and unexpected. 
 
But it was the girls’ fault, of course.  They hadn’t invited any of us to a Halloween party, thus taking us off the streets; nope, this was the year they discovered the enchantment of older men….Juniors and Seniors with drivers’ licenses that none of us, except Coop had.  I’ll deal with that phenomena in the next blog piece or two.

This piece generated a funny exchange in Facebook.....

A.B. - So let me get this straight. You're admitting to strong arm robbery for candy? 

Gus - Gee, I guess you could call it that...always thought of it as an instantaneous misunderstanding...I expected a little argument, not complete surrender and rapid retreat. Hope the statute of limitations has run out.

A.B. - I think you're safe. Murder is the only thing that I can think of that would extend to 50+ years on the statute of limitations.

L.C. - Ya'll are hysterical !!!!             I was one of those robbed & running...
            So not all the girls were at that Halloween party!!!
            You have to be kidding!... 6' tall bulked football players "afraid" of knocking on doors for their own candy for fear of being mistaken as adults?!!!
            Well ... On second thought maybe The Steal was The Thrill !!!             Happy Halloween!!! Now give my candy back!!!

A.B. - You're not likely to get the candy back and even if you did, you probably wouldn't want to eat it after all of this time. Tell me, was that your first mugging?

L.C. - Yes just one mugging...but it was back in the old days of less crime!!! Lol

J.F. - The group (or gang might be appropriate) Gus is talking about was an incredibly eccentric, intellectually brilliant, and funny bunch of teenagers. EHHS early '60's was a gold mine of such folks.

Gus - Now L.C., I'm pretty sure you're funnin' me here....you were a larger kid by then than the ones Tate and Dillard mugged, thus acquiring a nice Trick or Treat haul without all the work. Besides, since none of this crew was disguised that night so, you would have recognized us and most likely not been inclined to take off running. This was also the evening of papering the trees at selected homes, egging, and whatever other miscellaneous mischief we could stir up. Usually a midnight tour of Rose Hill was on the schedule. So, you see there was a lot to do. Topping it all off were cokes and fries at the Lancaster St. drive-in where other unattached revelers tended to wind down. If we were lucky, some of the Poly Chain Gang remnants were there also...and, if we were really lucky, so was Brandon, Sam, and a few others who knew how to fight...something none of us really perfected. That probably goes to the relatively elevated intelligence James suggests; that being, we likely understood there was little upside to be enjoyed from a fight and there could be some significant downside such as unnecessary discomfort. Can you believe it...there were no alcoholic spirits involved in any of these tours and I don't recall any smoking, either. Of course for some of them, that would come later.

Gus - James, thanks...it's nice to have 3rd party confirmation of what I recall about that gang of semi-delinquents. Otherwise, I might feel odd recalling them and the times as fondly as I do.

J.F. - That was my thought, Gus. You do need backup confirmation when you tell some of the tales of this group. Unbelievable stuff to many people. For example, one time when on a river camping trip to the Brazos River that included a few females who had the b...well, you know, to be there, Guthrie comes back to campsite from the river barefooted and wearing only soaking wet jeans, no shirt. Everybody else is sitting around in a group talking. Then, it was slowly noticed by everybody that Guthrie's crotch is larger than usual and is jumping around in an odd looking way. He had caught some kind of fish and put it in his underwear just for the laugh. And, it was so funny to all of us. Of course, the gals were the first to notice and freaked out, calling him all kinds of names. Guthrie acted the whole time like he has no clue what they're talking about.

Gus - One of my old classmates figured me out on the basis of humor. It was down to a choice between me or Guthrie. The tie-breaker was that my humor in his memory tended to be subtle where Guthrie was laugh out loud funny. He and McCoy had been classmates apart from all the rest of that MJH gang as they matriculated through Poly Ele together since 1st grade. By the time they joined us at MJH, they had their duet finely honed over a period of 6-years or so...then, we stirred in Dillard and Tate and McCook, et al.

Adios

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Future Portent


Fifty-four years ago the 1960 Meadowbrook Awards were awarded to Steve Means, Mike Grizzard, Joe Dickerson, Susan Begley, and Sherry Balthrop. The Meadowbrook Award recognized 5 students whose grades were in the top 5% of their 9th grade class (of 220 prox) and who received the highest number of votes from ballots cast by the faculty.

Sherry went to Fort Worth Christian Academy while the other 4 all graduated magna cum laude with the 63 Highlanders. Steve became a successful Dallas commercial real estate developer, Joe and Mike became doctors, and Susan became an artist. That 1960 faculty vote was a pretty good predictor of future potential.

(Gus note:  This article was one of the first published to the blog in 2006.  It has taken 8-years to locate a good photo of this rare award.  Two of our '63s were unable to locate theirs, one has gone on to Buffalo heaven, another hasn't been in touch, and the fifth went to FWCA and no clue after that.  Thanks to our fine EHHS Class of 1964 and Nancy O, one of her Buffalo Class of 1961 recipients. for the image...it's been stored away on a charm bracelet for a long time.) 

The  1961 Meadowbrook Awards (EHHS Class of 1964) went to David Tracy, Nancy O'Neill, Carl Johnson, Carolyn Mitchell, and Barbara Isham.  At EHHS graduation one of these students graduated with Summa Cum Laude honors, three with Magna Cum Laude honors, and one Cum Laude.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The Homecoming Mums



Danny McCoy remembers…..

I guess we all did not realize that a Mum was a Texas thing.

Upon October's arrival, once again there will be High School Homecomings all across the United States. We did not know it at the time, but Texas had added a tradition that we natives simply have taken for granted. If you still do not believe in Global Warming or that mums are not just a Texas tradition, just asked a friend or a co-worker who went to a non-Texas high school for their opinion.

Mums first became part of the Texas Friday Night Lights Football scene in the early 1950s.  The chrysanthemums prime growing season is October and November. Thus, the florists defaulted and promoted chrysanthemums corsages for high school boys to impress their dates and the young ladies who would wear them to the Homecoming game and dance. In the early 1960s Homecoming corsages were bundled with ribbons featuring the schools colors, glittered letters and/or mascots.

Gradually, the size of the mums became competitive and expensive. They became large badges of honor with ribbons long enough and ready to be tripped over. Some teenage ladies started to walk the school halls early to show off their mums in a not-so-subtle-way to demonstrate that they not only had a date for Homecoming, but her beau spent a hunk of money on her. It was very intimidating for the girls who did not have a date and for the boys who had not yet purchased their obligatory mum.

The price of today’s mums can easily start at over $100. And of course everything is still BIGGER in Texas. Mums have now morphed into a proud statement featuring flashing lights, musical sounds on modules/chips and a bevy of tiny teddy bears. A mum may not be on your shopping list, but this season take time to check out the florists displays.

When Linda and I started dating in high school, our sweetheart status provided some instant benefits. I no longer had to worry about being turned down on date requests and there was no anxiety for Linda on waiting for invites to important events such as Proms and Homecomings. So for her first High School Homecoming I ordered her a nice mum from Gordon Boswell.

And those of you who really know me, it did not stop there. A family church friend, Mrs. Plumlee, whose daughter, Linda, would later be one of our flower girls at our wedding, was known for her skills in making tissue flowers. These handcrafted artificial flowers looked like the Real McCoy. So I contracted with Mrs. Plumlee to make a custom mum for me. She agreed as long as I provided the supplies. So I purchased a quad-ply premium box of Kleenex and dyed a few chenille stems (pipe cleaners) in royal blue (Eastern Hills colors).  Mrs. Plumlee shaped them into E H, arranged the tissue into a beautiful flower, added some glitter and perfume to fashion a perfect mum. From a yard away you could not see the difference.

Linda’s dad greeted me and I noticed with delight when entered the room that Linda was wearing a strapless dress. If her parents were not around, I know I could have managed to pin on the corsage. I must have paused too long.  Linda’s mom intervened and said: “Let me help you with that?” She then opened the box and continued: “Oh, Danny this is very nice. Did you make it yourself?”  My future father-in-law then gave me a disappointed glance.

It was at this time that I realized I had not fully thought this ruse through. I had assumed that they would all recognize that this was a joke and I would go back to the car, laughing all the way, to retrieve the real flowers.  But before I could internally debate my next action, the Kleenex Mum was pinned and we were ushered out the door. I could not believe she was wearing it!

As we headed to Farrington Field, I was a bit agitated. How could she possibly think that I would buy her a fake flower! In the stadium stand, it only got worse. My buddies taunted: “Hey, I think I am getting a cold. Does anybody have any Kleenex?”
 
After the game we headed to the Homecoming Dance. We paused in the parking lot. I reached under the seat and pulled out the Gordon Boswell mum. It was still in great shape. I meekly offered it, mumbled a lame excuse so that she could wear it to the dance. As she exited the car, she politely said: “No, I prefer this one.” 

Since then I have always liked a girl with SPUNK!  For several years both mums hung on her bedroom wall in a place of honor. But the one made out of Kleenex lasted the longest.


...even at Junior High....



Adios