Red Rover, Red Rover, send Cheryl on over, Red Rover, Red Rover, send Pennie on over, now there was Marlys Zorn left and she was tough as any boy. Now to the boys demise these girls were bigger than the boys. Marlys could always find the weakest link as well as the Kester twins capturing an opponent who more than likely wanted to be on their team anyway. Funny how I remember the girls being bigger than the boys in the early grades then we caught up in stature and by graduation the boys were larger. Now comes the time an announcement over the intercom for a classmate I knew was outside. I ran out, passed on the information, spent a little to much time outside, talking and goofing off and got caught by Mr. Rude watching out the Principal’s office window, which looked right out on the playground. Mr. Martinson come with me to the office, he sat me down took out a tablet and pencil and wrote on the top of the page, I will not go outside in winter without my hat, coat, mittens, and overshoes on. Mr. Rude told me to write that 100 times and give it to him when I had finished. It was below zero that day and as we all know, now that we are older and wiser that frostbite can happen quickly on uncovered parts of the body. Every time I passed by the office after that I remembered the time spent there writing and the sight of Mr. Rude anywhere slowed me down. Thanks Mr. Rude for a lesson in life that paid off for me later. Recess in school was always an ants in your pants, can not sit still, watch the clock, stay out of trouble or you will lose your recess privilege. The bell rings and it is a race to the swings. I’ve got a swing, someone give me a push and I am off. Pumping my legs higher and higher I go until I can feel that loose chain feeling that means you have topped off and are going above the crossbar. Now it is time to slow down and see how far you can fly from the swing when you bail off the seat in mid air. Mark the spot and wait to see if anyone dares to try and beat my mark. Sliding down the slide was a lot of fun as long as the line was not to long but still remember the long climb up the metal steps to the top and those first few times were scary standing at the top looking down. This was just the beginning for the tree climbing along willow creek and hanging out with the older boys who were smoking cigarettes,” they borrowed from their parents”. Since I do not have any photos of the old playground equipment I thought it would be fun to get any comments on the pictures below of what I thought
was in the school yard. Open up those memories.
Hi Tim,
I’ve really enjoyed all the e-mails – brings back a lot of memories. Also makes me wonder what the heck I was doing when all those things were going on! Has anyone brought up ‘Beer Can Alley’?
I saw your question about Deer Heart Lodge – it was up in the hills not far from Mary & Chester Hill. Marvel may have some info on it, her brother Kenny used to live there after it ceased to be an attraction for the public. She could probably answer any questions.
My Mom still talks about her visit to Alaska and how glad she was to be able to talk with you. She enjoyed reminiscing about your Dad and others. Mom just turned 90 and is doing very well. She’s now living in the Haaland Home in Rugby, so if you ever pass by that way stop in and say hi.
My oldest son spent 2 1/2 years near Eagle, Alaska. He just left a couple months ago. I was hoping he’d stay longer so we could make another trip up there but it wasn’t to be. Now that Mom sold her house and land in Dunseith I probably won’t go back there much. Will be spending time in North Dakota on the farms with Pennie and Joanne.
Keep the memories going in your dialogues with Gary Stokes et al. I’m mostly a voyeur, so won’t be writing much!
Hope 2008 is a good year for you and your family. Take care.
Cheryl Gaugler
Colette Hosmer’s (64) reply to Larry Hackman (66):
Larry,
You are very talented at conjuring up visual images with your words. Your old bowling alley account sharpened my memory of the place like nothing else could. I was the “half-pint” running around up front (most likely when my league-bowling parents couldn’t find a babysitter). I didn’t get a decent growth spurt until junior high — I ended up being the tallest of everyone in my eighth grade class (which earned me the nick-name of Bob-Skyscraper) until some of the boys took over. Dale Hoffman, for one, ended up well over 6 feet.
Your description of the cars parked on main street reminded me of Saturday night uptown in the summertime. I’m sure everyone (of a certain age) remembers when all the stores stayed open late, and the farmers would come to town to buy their groceries, etc. for the week. Both sides of the street would be lined with cars (some people would park early to get a good location). Adults would visit from their cars and watch people walk by. My girlfriends and I would “dress up” and walk up and down main street and around selected blocks, on the look-out for boys with cars to ride around with. If we had our sights set on a certain group — and they drove past on one side of the block — we would run like hell through the alley to turn up nonchalantly on the other side where we knew they would turn.
I wish I had a nickel for every time we made that loop……through main street, turn at Dale’s, back through main street, turn at the San, back down the hill, etc., etc. Gas was cheap then.
Memories from Gary Metcalfe (57):
Responding to Bill Hosmer, I sure agree with considering it a privilege to be raised in Dunseith at the right time. I knew many “colorful” old timers such as John Bedard, a stately old fellow by the time I knew him. John worked for my dad, Jim Metcalfe, in Seattle during the war. He was a cook and man of many talents. They took him on Chris Berg’s yacht to do all the cooking for a weekend of fishing. He was a good man to have in that department.
In 1960’s I bought John’s farm, a piece at a time, north of Dunseith, two miles west of the Indian Day School. I stayed with John through a winter. He made some head cheese, since John made it, I tried it. It was o.k. John was 86 years old at that time. One cold winter night, John went to town, came home about 11 pm and I said, “Where you been John?” and he replied, “Well, we had a meeting at the Red Owl store. (his sons Lucien and Albert had died within a short time of each other) I cleaned up the cooler, put new papers all around and stopped at the Tap for a drink.” “There is a guy giving that Lowell (Leonard, bartender) a hard time. I said, “Well, what did you do John?” and he said, “I put him in a vice.” (grabbed him by the neck) all of this in his French brogue. One day we woke up to about 4 feet of fresh snow, Sherm Burcham’s barn had collapsed and pinned the cows in their stantions, so I took my snowmobile, “see you later, John” and headed NW about 4 miles, snow was so deep the snowmobile would hardly get through it. That night I came back home to John’s pretty late, after taking asprin to the neighbors, Gagnon’s, brought Alvin Hogenson back home to town from the farm, I said to John, “I have a couple calves that need watering in the barn.” He said, “I took care of that”. A year later I found two pieces of plywood with string, Old John had made snowshoes, carried water all the way to the barn, shoveled out the barn door and watered those calves. Remember he was 86 years old!
One day I said to John, “What happened to your screen door?” He looked at his old white Arydale and said, “You money maker you.” The dog had jumped through it when the dynamite charge went off in the well.
Audrey Aitchison’s Correction: (Gary Stokes’ and the Morniville kids Cousin)
I want to make a correction about the raccoons. Ruby didn’t get one. Jean and I each got one. She got a male and named hers Marvin and I got a female and named mine Ruby after Ruby and Marvin Kuhn– brother and sister.