Friday, November 12, 2021

My dad, Earl Milan Johnson, was born on October 23, 1921. For his hundredth year, I'm publishing some writing of his that I found a few years after he died. Here is the second  installment.

Grade School Education  

by Earl Johnson
(written sometime in the 1990s) 

 I started grade school in September of 1926 at North Union School which was about ¾ miles east, one mile south, and a quarter-mile east of the Gustafson place where we lived. Dad and his brothers and sisters, also my brothers and sisters all attended grade




school at that location in a small building which was replaced by a larger approximately 40x40 foot building. The building had only 1 classroom, a library, boys and girls cloakrooms and a full basement. Toilet facilities were outside. 

 My first years in school were very difficult for me because I was a lefthander.  Educators at that time believed that being left-handed was a disability and thought to change it. Viola Engstrom was my teacher and used to whack my left hand with a ruler each time she caught me using it. This caused me not only pain but also fear and most likely set me back in the learning process. I would claim illness and play hookey. I should add at this time that Ms. Engstrom was a lovely and beautiful young woman and was only carrying out her job as a teacher.  She was a local girl and grew up on the next quarter east of the school.


 

This building was later made into a home and still stands in good condition. 




I do feel that it slowed my learning ability and concentration at least during the first few years and hurt my ability to throw a ball, etc. I was able to use either hand for most things except writing which helped me in other ways.  

 Robert Benson, Rachel Clark, and John Dee Holm started first grade with me. John moved after two or three years to North Diamond District and others came into the class, mainly children of oil field workers who moved to the area. Among those were Alfred Hollenback, Mary Byerly, Melvin McCabe, and Edith Birge. 

 Can you imagine 44 kids, one classroom, one teacher and all 8 grades? This was for much of my grade school years.  The older kids helped the younger ones and the younger ones heard the older ones during their recitations at the front of the room or at the chalkboard.

 The three teachers during my years at North Union were Viola Engstrom, Mary Alice Crist, and Pauline Cooprider.  I don’t believe any of them had much more than a high school education, perhaps summer school but they were excellent teachers.

 Mary Alice Crist was a strict disciplinarian and some of us felt the sting of the rubber hose that was kept in the lower right-hand drawer of her desk.  I remember John Dee Holm getting two whippings in one day, one for the crime committed and another for taking out across the field for home.  

 Mary Alice Crist was much appreciated for her teaching ability and all of us were in debt to her.  She was an “old maid”, drove a Model T Ford Coupe, and always carried a 22-Rifle in the back window of her car. She later married Newt Robinson, a fairly well-to-do-widower.  

 Pauline Cooprider was my teacher for seventh and eighth grade.  She was also a good teacher and we learned much from her.  At that time, however, we were tested in the seventh and eighth grade with exams prepared by the county superintendent of schools and staff. We studied one curriculum which was different from the one we were tested on and only two, Robert Benson and Rachel Clark, passed to eighth grade. They failed in only one subject and the other five of us failed in two and had to take the seventh grade over.  No fault on the teacher or us because other schools in the county had the same problem. It may have been the best thing that ever happened to us because when we started high school (ninth grade) we were well ahead of the town kids and by the end of my sophomore year I was on the honor roll.  Pauline Cooprider later married Leonard Lundberg and spent most of the rest of their lives in McPherson.

 We usually walked to school when it was nice either across the field or around the roads and had many good times with others as we walked. In bad weather, we shared with neighbors driving by car, by horse and wagon, and sometimes by horse and sled. Sometimes in the winter, the township roads might be blocked for a month from snowdrifts. The only way out would be across the field. Joe Clark lived just half a mile west of us and their older children Maurice and Lucille, although in New Gottland District, came to North Union for a few years because it was closer.  We shared rides with them and for a while with the Bill “Steamboat” Johnson family.  Otherwise, we were at the end of the line. Dad came and met us one night and caught Don and me wading in the grader ditch trying to catch tadpoles. It was fairly cold and we were wet. Dad left us as punishment for our sin and took all of the other kids home. 

 I met John Dee Holm in about 1996 at a Memorial Day festivity. It was the first time to see him in over 65 years. He told me he had wanted to apologize to me for all of that time because he had chased me, thrown a small piece of iron, and hit me in the head, causing bleeding out. I don’t remember it but it could be another reason why I was never too bright. 

 Some of the boys used to challenge each other to suck raw eggs and keep it down without vomiting. What a challenge! 

 Our teachers usually gave us craft time and allowed us to make crafts for gifts. Some of the painted wood dogs, cats, and rabbits were made into bookends or doorstops, etc, and are still around. I accidentally dipped my red paintbrush into the can of white paint. Ms. Crist liked me and I respected her but wasn’t real popular with her for a few days. 

Dad, Arthur Johnson 1915
 We played lots of games at recess and during the noon hour. The last day of school each year was very special. People brought a potluck lunch at noon. Children would put on a program for parents and neighbors and it usually became a community gathering. In the afternoon my Dad, a former pitcher for the Kansas City Monarchs would organize a ball game and the young men of the community would take part. Dad would pitch until he finally threw “his arm away”. I was always proud of Dad but sure afraid that he was somewhat disappointed in his boys because we didn’t have his playing ability. He certainly tried to teach us. 

 I did not have a girlfriend in grade school or high school for that matter. Don was the lover boy of the family. 

 About 1998, we had a reunion for members of the North Union School and many people were present including Carl Chinburg, who was 100 years old, and my Uncle Reuben, who was almost 95. Many people were present.

 Robert Benson and his father were killed in a car-train accident about 1935 before starting high school and Alfred Hollenback lost his life in an oil field accident the following year. I will never forget Robert’s aunt at the funeral singing “We Shall Meet at the River”. This was a great shock to both Don and me and we appreciated the consoling our parents gave us.

 The school was closed and children were bussed to McPherson for school. 

 School and church were the center of nearly all activities I wish the children of today could experience the same

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