~¢ 5- Thursday, June 3, 2004
"WHERE THE KID COT HIS NAME"
Okay, it's June. That means "No More Frost!" My tomatoes are safe
now, aren't they?. June has always seemed like the first month of real
Itmlmer. Even though September has been a good part of the growin'
Imason, anymore we still must remember that we can get that killer frost
end of August.
The kids are all out of school and enjoyin' the summer. They had a
wOnderful bar-b-que Wednesday at the school. I reckon the teachers are
just as thankful the school year is over as the students are. Mr. T said he
remembered so much that last day of school, "The last day of school is a
feelin' you never forget even though the last one was 50 years ago. I loved
Ihe feelin' knowing I was free at last. Even the air that last day was clean
and fresh." You just don't forget those, days.
Mrs. S was anxious to agree, =After watchin' my granddaughters enjoy
last few days of the school year, sure did stir up my memories also. It
~nice to get out of the school mode, but I sure missed my friends as I
on the ranch and didn't see them very often. Sometimes I wonder why
I looked forward to bein' out of school, as my folks just had a lot of chores
for me to do each day. Come to think about it, I was just as happy to see
the new school year start up as I was to see it end. About the middle of
~gjcUSt, my brother and I would sit down at the kitchen table and go through
Penney catalog to pick out some school clothes. We always chose
the ones we thought would be the most stylish, all the time knowin' that the
folks would make the final judgement. Thinkin' back I'm not sure I ever got
the clothes I had on the list." Mr. H said he had the same opportunity to
Choose his new school clothes also, but he decided after about the third
that there was no such thing as JC Penney's. He said "1 always made
out a list and presented it to the decision makers and then waited for the
mail. About a week before school started, we would make a trip to town
and get a couple pair of jeans and two new shirts."
NewcastlMr. S did not grow up in the country and as a city slicker from
e, he was able to see what all the local kids were gettin' and
SPent the entire summer harpin' at folks for the same items. He
remembered, *One year everything had to be pink and black. By golly, we
had pink shirts and black pants, we even found some pink and black
SOcks. My brother found a black and pink tie to wear to school functions. I
~11 have that tie, but not that brother unfortunately. When I was in about the
Seventh grade, dressing for school was rather simple. All us boys wore
~lite t-shirts, blue jeans and black Converse canvas tennis shoes. I never
why they called them tennis shoes. We never saw tennis back in
those days. The blue jeans were always bought two inches too long so we
COuld tum them up in a cuff. The tough guys in our group would roll a pack
of cigarettes up in their shirt sleeve when they were not around their folks. It
aure made them look tough, even if they never smoked 'era. Back then it
was a pack of Camels or Philip Morns cigs. Reckon we all tried them at
One time or another, out behind the woodshed. That seemed to be more of
a SUmmertime event then durin' the school year."
Mr. G grew up in Cheyenne, many, many years ago, but reflected, =1
always looked forward to bein' out of school for ~ summer. We never had
to get to bed early and when I was old enough to drive, I could go to the
d~ve-in movie with my buddies. Those drive-ins were some experience
back then. We would pop up a sack of popcom and take a couple bottles of
Pepsi-Cola. The only problem I remember was the movie didn't start
before dark which was close to eight o'clock and by then we had always
eaten all the popcom and drank the pop and made two trips to the
bathroom. Needless to say, we very seldom saw the end of the movies. We
~ays woke up when we heard all the other cars startup to leave.
Oh, those lazy days of summer as they say. We never found much new
to talk about this week but spent some wonderful moments relivin' those
(:lays long ago when even us old folks had our last days of school, q'ill next
remember, "Wisdom is easy to carry but difficult to gather."
Worth Mentioning
EVONNA
SCHELLING
suggested that she and her
husband would buy two additional
tickets to go with the pair that
could be used by me and my
husband. And, so they did...and a
good time was had by us alfl
I couldn't help but notice,
however, that time has changed a
lot of things. For instance, Joe
Walsh's hair is no longer brown.
And I wondered for awhile if the
weight of the guitar was causing
BECAIJSETHESTORYBEHIND Glenn Fry to stoop slightly. But, I
~.,~ESTORYISANOTHERSTORY finally had to admit that age is
I've waited most of my lifetime
for this experience; still, I think I
WOuld have appreciated it more
NaOme two and a half decades ago.
evertheless, I had an
exceptionally good time at the
.Eagles concert in Casper last
=Wednesday night. I've been an
Eagles fan since 1975 (oh my
gosh _ that's 29 years!) when I
Was a sophomore in high school.
kly, how time flies.
How I ended up at the concert
ia almost as fun as being there. As
~¢all, I once told my family that, if
Eagles ever reunited from their
14"year separation, I would give
n)ost anything to see them in
COncert. Well, they finally reunited
for their "Hell Freezes Over" tour in
1994, (one band member once
~ he'd sing with the others
.again when "hell freezes over"
hence the name of that particular
toufl) Unfortunately, at that time
.they were never within any remote
¢listance of Wyoming...so I was
out of luck.
But, at that point, real life had
t~t in and seeing the Eagles
Wa~m't the high priority it had been
~n I was a teen. So, I hadn't
" given it much thought in the last
tl~ Years until, back in March, the
.news broke that the Eagles would
ItOld concert in Billings, Rapid City
and Casper.
I was pretty excited about the
l~icOSPects until I heard the ticket
e: somewhere between
OUtrageous and out of the
question. So, just when I d made
beace with myself that I'd been
out of a ticket, my birthday
~rled around and my family came
Ough with a pair of tickets to the
Eagles concert. They were also
quick to give credit where credit is
Clue.
It seems that my youngest
aUghter, Laura, 14, took it upon
Qrself to call my friend in
~Uglas to see if she would be
~rested in going to the concert
th me. Of course, not only was
~ly friend willing to go but she
noted that the Casper concert
~OUid be held on her twentieth
~lding anniversary. So, she
starting to get the best of the
super group. Although Timothy B.
Schmit seems to have defied the
years a little better than his band
mates, let's face it: his long hair
isn't as thick as it once was. And
Don Henley's not as slim as he
once was either. Well, what can
you expect? They're all on the top
side of fifty, looking at sixty years
oldl
But, they can still pack an
arena and belt out their bevy of
number one hits. So some things
haven't changed. They're still
doing just that all across America,
Canada and Europe. In fact, it's
only good scheduling and
marketing strategy that brought
them anywhere near us. rm glad
for thaL Af~d I'm glad ! got to so
thoroughty enjoy the experience of
marking off one more of those
things that I really want to do
before I die!
Six years ago, I swore an oath to defend
my country, to follow orders from both the
President of the United States and the
Governor of Wyoming and to protect the rights
of all people. For six years I accepted my
paycheck and for three years I accepted the
college benefits. Uncle Sam decided that it was
time for me to payback what I owed in a manner
that only a soldier can understand. Through a
lack of sleep, large amounts of sweat, being
separated from loved ones and sometimes with
our very blood. Some people say that they joined for
the money, some for the benefits and some for the
respect, but we all serve because of the honor and
the gratitude we have for the rights and privileges that we exercise
daffy.
There is a certain amount of pride that comes from putting on
the uniform and there is a higher level of pride that comas from
serving in Wyoming. I never realized how great Wyoming really was
until I got a phone call asking me to report in Casper the next
morning, after making a few phone calls I had quit all my jobs,
worked out a deal with my landlord and had friends helping me pack
up my apartment. My parents agreed to drive down to load my stuff
up and by the time all my stuff had to be moved I was tuming down
people and vehicles who wanted to help. To everyone who helped
and all of you who offered to help, thank you so much.
The next moming I was in Casper meeting the people who are
now my leaders, my teem members, my friends and my family. Even
though we are all Wyoming National Guard soldiers, this was the
first time I had met most of these soldiers. The processing in
Casper went very smooth thanks to the cooperation of the townsfolk
and the soldiers families, but nothing could ease the pain of leaving
spouses, parents, girlfriends, and family behind to cross the ocean
to secure freedom for an oppressed people.
We were an artillery battalion in Wyoming. One of the best units
west of the Atlantic Ocean
! .~ and they changed our job,
changed our name and
changed our skill. We are
now one of the best
battalions west and east
of the Atlantic. This alone
should speak for the
quality of people who live
in and love Wyoming. For
now- Powder River- Let'er
Buck.
Question of the Week
"Who was your greatest influence in schoo/?"
Robert Wilson
"Tommy, becasue he installed
automatic flushers."
Nikole Hoard
"My dad. He made me keep go-
ing to school."
Whitney Lenz
=Mr. Kahler, because the music
program gave me so many oppor-
tunities in life."
Robin Engelhaupt
"My parents. They're the ones
that made me finish."
e
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Sp i lli n g ln k
ELIZABETH
CANFIELD
I have tried all week to write
this column about the World War
II era. Every once in awhile,
somebody ponders that it has
taken from 1945 until 2004 to
erect a monument to the heroes
of that war. Nothing would come
together. I don't think I ever
heard a veteran from that war
say, "What about us?"
And then, this morning it
came to me: we were a
generation of Americans who
grew up not knowing that the
world owed us anything at all.
We were on our own, from the
time we were children, in a
world where grown-ups
struggled in the throes of a
depression and drought that
seared their souls. Not that we
didn't have love; we were
cherished, but our parents came
from the roaring 1920s into the
nightmare of the 1930s, finding
that chiffon short skirts, whiskey
flasks, fast cars and really
risque dance routines were
gone. Once-wealthy financiers
were jumping out of ten-story
windows on Wall Street. For
many, there was the real specter
of not knowing where
tomorrow's food was coming
from, or whether they'd be
evicted from homes in the cities
or from their farms and ranches;
jobs were few, and the drought
kept the ground bare for rural
people, all over this great
nation.
There were no government
programs to begin with; old
people had no social security --
there was a small county
stipend for very poor old people,
considered a stigma by many.
Many of the elderly were cared
for in their children's homes.
There were no relief or welfare
programs until Franklin
Roosevelt was elected president
in 1932. Extended families or
neighbors helped each other. I
remember when men came to
our ranch with a team and
wagon, and my father would
load up some hay, a few
gunnysacks of oats or other
grains so that relatives or
neighbors would have feed for a
milk cow, or for the team that
was their only means of
transportation. My mother had
an irrigated garden that
encompassed our entire yard at
the ranch; cousins have told me
how they would come and we'd
pick a washtub full of beans or
corn for them to take home to
can. We moved to town in the
The Sundanxe limes
iiiii
winter for school, taking a milk
cow that was kept in a small
barn on the back lot. There was
a time when the cow had been
milked dry when we went out to
milk her in the morning. My
father watched, found a couple
of boys in the vicinity sneaking
in to milk her before daylight...a
warning ended that ...I can
remember him shaking his
head, saying that he knew the
small children in the family were
going hungry...
You would not believe the
homes people lived in. The
timber north of Upton sheltered
many families who moved into
deserted old homestead
shacks, rent-free, just to have a
roof over their heads.
Education fell by the wayside.
I started high school in 1932 in
a class of forty-some freshmen;
we graduated, in 1937 a class of
fifteen, some of whom had fallen
back a grade or two during
those four years. All the others
had dropped out of school, or
dropped back a grade or so...
And I don't mean this
narrative to sound like we had
more than other people. I never
had more than one pair of shoes
at a time. I can remember, one
year, of having one good dress,
made over from one my
grandmother gave me. I made a
variety of collars for it, in
different colors, that I'd tack into
the neck facing just to change it
a little...
I went to the Upton schools
for 11 years, graduating in 1937
with a high school diploma and
a two-year teaching degree, and
went out to teach a rural school
that fall for $70 per month. A
classmate stopped by to tell me
he had secured a job at the
bentonite plant at the same
salary. Many men were
supporting a family on less.
The country's recovery was
slow. The war clouds were
gathering all over Europe. Hitler
and Mussolini were on the
march, and we were aware of it;
it was in our future. When it
finally came to us in 1941, with
Pearl Harbor, it colored
everything in our young lives.
Last night, during special
Memorial Day ceremonies on TV,
the orchestra played a medley of
songs for each branch of the
service...as I listened to each
song come up, I remembered
friends, boys I knew, dated,
danced with, who died during
World War II, in each branch.
Marines, Navy, Air Corp, Army,
Coast Guard, Seabees. On the
beaches of Normandy, over the
skies of France, in ships at sea.
No. My generation didn't need
a War Memorial. Collectively and
individually, we were--the men
and the women--after four long
years of war, just glad to have the
world let go of us, and give us a
chance to roll up our sleeves and
mold a life of our own, raise a
family and be, finally, masters of
our own fate.
- I.obbY
COW POKES
By Ace Reid
"If you can hold out a while longer,
I may be able to get almost what you paid fer
this place,"
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charges... BANK WITH US
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