North Ward

An Excerpt

by Bill Spencer

Chapter 1. Introduction

The old building, now an apartment house, seems to be begging to be remembered because it senses that its existence is quickly being forgotten.  Passing it on occasion, former students might sometimes smile at the string of thoughts associated with the old place, or perhaps an image might make one cringe (corporal punishment was frequently used).  I now realize that among flashes of mental pictures of events or people associated with the building were assorted glimpses of all imaginable kinds of positive and negative energies. This convergence of memories, forces, or entities seems to be asking to have its own voice.

Getting some of these memories down in print for posterity, in a timely fashion, might keep this old place from being forgotten.  This writing might soothe the emanations that speak from the old institution of learning. The building is pleading; no it is demanding that its treasure chest of human experiences be preserved. The smell of the place, the noises associated with active kids, as well as thoughts of lost times often ring like school bells of the mind as we remember some little event that left a lasting impression on us.  Every one of its alumni occasionally gets these jolting memory flashes that take them for a memory walk in the old halls.

If it were possible, how many readers might actually want to walk through the old building one more time just to remember, and even be introduced to a few of the ghost-memories that sill haunt there?  Here again the memories (events in time) are fading into nothingness, so we have to work fast. The soul of this structure forged from memories, events, actions, is not malicious, but it is impatient and it may play a few tricks on the mind.  Like playful sprites, some remembrances may jump out from dark corners of space and time.

With a rich history, the 1923 building had at least three floors and served high school students as well as junior high and elementary kids. The school housed various grades throughout its history, but toward the end of its life it typically had grades four through eight.

During the fifties, the third floor was removed, and the building was remodeled after a new High School was built 4 blocks north at Cooke and Cottonwood.  The removal of the third floor is an interesting phenomenon that probably has a simple explanation.  But, as yet, time keeps hidden the reason for this trimming.  The lost information allows our imaginations to fill in the story with what ever adventure we like. The time span after this remodeling sets the scene for this peek into the dark, dusty halls of old North Ward.

Fortunately, we enter as unseen and unobtrusive observers, so that all the characters will be at ease and honest.  There is one rule written in stone in any school environment, and that is that kids always show-out for visitors.  Teachers understand this puzzlement quite well, and we would not want to get on the “bad” side of any Teachers.

Chapter 2. Time Portal Entrance Here

Just for the record, at various times, depending on the clientele, the building goes by the name Nocona School, The Junior High, The Middle School, and just plain North Ward.  A building on Montague Street that serves grades one through three is called South Ward.  South Ward will burn down during the time span of our North Ward investigation.  We only note the old elementary school in passing because it’s another mystery in itself.  

Entering on the east or west doors, we walk down a long inclined hall, lined with wood paneling, to the ground floor.  Strangely the ground floor is actually a foot below ground level, which was probably designed purposely because the building was built with three floors.  If entering from the north or south, one enters to a platform that gives the choice of going down five steps to the ground floor of going up 10 steps to the second floor.  This downward descent for a visitor might feel like going down into a dank, dark basement, nevertheless, when one gets near a classroom there was plenty of light due to the numerous banks of windows in each room.

Following the long, black, no-skid rubber mat down brings one to the north-south hall.  Immediately, the slightly sweet smell of a solvent used with all wide dust mops greets the visitor.  Red dust mops coated with special oil have to be used almost constantly to keep a floor’s surface wax from being destroyed.  The dimly lit hall shows a floor tile that could be slightly blue-green, perhaps even grayish, depending on how close one looks.  Some of the tiles do not match as they were probably put down to repair loose or broken squares. 

There is the typical “school smell” that many leaning institutions have; however, if one’s senses are acute, other fragrances might be detected.  Perhaps a musty component is still lingering that comes with the age of the old structure’s exposure to moisture.  The faint whiff of a scent of mint seems to be diffusing from the north stairwell.  Could it be that a janitor cleaned some vomit with the strong smelling cover-up chemical that smells like wintergreen? 

Dampness is a problem on the ground floor, as water often penetrates the plaster and pools in classrooms on the south side.  After heavy rains, janitors have to squeegee the water up hill to push it out the southeast door.

Centered at the foot of the western entrance ramp for visitors to see is a trophy case with sides and top made of glass.  The old case is right next to the Dark Room, about which details will come later. Some of the trophies date back to the early thirties.  Most of the dusty trophies were from previous successful girls’ and boys’ basketball tournaments at places like Saint Jo, Forestburg, and even long distance jaunts to Seymour.

Right above the case is an old pendulum clock.  It is a beautiful clock, perhaps an antique, but most of the time the clock appears to be stopped  The dead hands of the unwound clock usually remain unmovable.  Strangely the time locked on the old clock face is 3:45 PM. Historically, this is the time that the last school bell would ring ending the day.

If one enters from either of the two eastern doors from the playground, there is the same descent and long rubber mat, but there is also the strong smell of bathroom deodorizers because both of these halls parallel the girls’ and boys’ restrooms.  The cover-up smell is almost overwhelming on the north hall where urinals contain the disk shaped air fresheners that gradually dissolve with use. 

The hum of restroom exhaust fans can be heard if the building is quite, since restroom exhaust, smelling like a combination of deodorizer, urine, and methane, is forced out toward the eastern playground area.  Curious viewers near the east wall of the playground can actually see inside the restrooms by looking through the blower vents.  Teachers keep this area clear; however, there is an outside water fountain situated between the two restroom vents.

Once down the descending hall on the west side, one goes left to go to the fourth grade hall and right to go to the fifth grade hall. Turning right (south) a pungent smell of cigarette smoke is seeping from the transom of the room just north of the office, the Teacher’s lounge.  Apparently, someone has been enjoying a quick smoke between classes, as evidenced by the faint fog resting between the transom and the ceiling. The lounge like all other rooms is well ventilated with huge tiers of windows lining the west wall facing Cooke Street.  Occupants can see the meager traffic traveling down Cooke Street, and even smell the exhaust if the windows are open.

Windows are set in frames like seesaws; therefore, one can tilt a window open and then secure it with the attached metal chain.  These windows are an important component of the school in many ways.  By opening windows and the door to the hall most classrooms can set up a small, but refreshing air current, to moderate a hot September day.  At this time school starts after Labor Day because citizens think that going to school in hot classrooms is unnecessary.  There is no worry yet about cramming extended curriculums into the typical school year.

Chapter 3.  Beware of Teachers’ Lounge

Closer to the lounge door, one might be curious to look in to see what Teachers do to relax.  This is the only place in the whole school that is off-limits to students.  Looking in the door, it is obvious from the smell and haziness that someone has a nicotine dependency.  This hazy air is strangely out of place since Teachers are supposed to present a sound and healthy persona.  At this time Educators are not really allowed to have personal vices.  Oh well, it could be second-hand smoke from the Janitor lighting up for a quick puff on his pipe.

An overflowing pencil sharpener by the door gives off the woody aroma of fresh No. 2 shavings.  The sharpener cover is leaking wood shavings into the chalkboard tray right below it.  On the chalkboard is scrawled a large message: “If you use the coffee pot, please wash it! A student desk under the chalk tray has a grimy Mr. Coffee pot with about an inch of stale smelling coffee on the hot burner.  Various sizes and shapes of coffee mugs liter this small desk. Most of the cups look dirty.

Also someone has been working at a cylinder-shaped machine with a crank on it.  A faint, sweet smell of mimeograph fluid, with a high content of alcohol, is still lingering near the shiny, metallic device.  Near the western wall of windows, the mimeograph machine rests on an oak topped folding table, along with 3 boxes of letter size paper stacked underneath.  Waded up pieces of blue printed paper are scattered along the folding table. The misfiring machine has put several long creases in these discarded sheets. Several gallon drums of mimeograph fluid are stored under this table as well. 

Apparently a teacher has been working on a math worksheet, probably eighth grade math judging from the complex numbers in blue hand written print. Later on today, several 8^th math students will sniff these blue sheets like the finest perfume.  Strangely, some students like the smell of mimeograph fluid; however the Math Teacher routinely warns them not to smell it.

An old black couch covered with fake leather sits in the middle of the room.  A split on one of the cushions reveals a white, fibrous stuffing peeking out. Next to it is a small student desk, apparently used as an end table which supports a smoldering ash tray.  The seating bunched up in the center of the room, gives the room a barren feel, similar to entering an unfurnished house.  Seems like this year's faculty is wanting for a bit of tidiness.

The Teachers’ lounge has occupied other rooms in the old building from time to time.  People should know that Teachers need a place to hang out and have down time, but Administrators always call these places a “work room” so that the outside world will not know that Teachers are merely human beings that need a break to soothe a secret craving.  Teachers can let their hair down and act like real humans here; however, in the classroom these same Teachers are tantamount to the Captain of a ship, and they make all the rules, at least most of the time.

Chapter 4. Christmas Spirits

Before we leave, let’s immerse ourselves in a nostalgic memory a Christmas not many years back, when the weather turned extremely cold and the coffee pot got extremely “hot.” When a feisty Teachers’ Aide spikes the coffee pot with an adult beverage, she almost gets one of Nocona’s finest Teachers slightly impaired.   This Aide is a “lame duck” along with her husband who already has another job coaching football at another high school.  The Coach and his wife are just marking time until school is out so that they can move to another small town near Wichita Falls, TX. She has no fear of any disciplinary sanctions that could be imposed on her; in addition she is simply a practical joker looking for her next victim.  This paraprofessional no longer “owns” any responsibility to the school system that wants another head football coach “better” than her husband.

Visitors to the lounge this day can detect the noticeably musky scent of fresh coffee; however, underneath that aroma lays a suspiciously sweet smell of ethanol or grain alcohol.  Most faculty members figure out the trick right away when they pour their first cup, and directly upon getting a good whiff, they smile and pour the stuff out in a nearby water fountain.  Teachers act like students at recess as they gather around the coffee maker and laugh at all the fresh suckers who venture in.  And just like kids, none of these adults are thinking about the possibility of getting in trouble for a prank.  Adults at this gathering obviously practice the commandment “do as I say, not as I do.”

In the course of the last day’s frantic activities before Christmas vacation, Teachers forget about the little joke that is still literally brewing in the lounge and begin to enjoy the mandatory parties and gift exchange.  What happens next is arguably a legend, perhaps even truthful fact, depending on the version one listens too.  One of the veteran Teachers, obviously unaware of the spiked brew, is now on her third cup of coffee, and witnesses say that she is starting to stagger slightly.

The guilty Teachers’ Aide knows what she has to do to save this joke from getting anymore out of control.  She discretely pulls the inebriated pedagogue aside and confesses to the trick; after which, she disposes of the polluted coffee by pouring it out one of the big windows.  Yes, some Teachers were not apposed to using the window to get rid of the last drops of coffee or a cigarette butt, but if a student in their classroom were to throw anything out a window, then this kid would be in big trouble.

The embarrassed Aide then helps the lady back to her classroom and stays with her the rest of the day. The duped Teacher, while embarrassed and confused, probably has enough stimulant in her to warm her insides on this blustery, winter’s day; consequently, she slurs her way through reading and social studies and probably goes home to a nice warm nap.

Chapter 5. More Practical Jokes in the Lounge

No doubt another gag needs to be mentioned since we have opened up the subject of pranks.  One other trickster makes his reputation here well before the “coffee-spiking incident.” The setting for this joke is a small room just off the stage of the auditorium, which the current Principal has anointed as the current lounge.  The custom at this time was to have a midmorning break, during which all students would go to the playground for 15 minutes to get the rowdiness out of their system.  Certainly, there were some rowdy adults also in the building who were looking to enliven things a bit.

Teachers rotated duty shifts to watch the grounds, but the rest would congregate in the small room just north of the stage to drink coffee, eat, and smoke.  It seems like everyone smokes cigarettes because the lounge atmosphere is always tinged with the aroma of Winstons.  Some hard core smokers can consume two cigarettes in the short break by smoking one and lighting the next off of the butt from the first.

Occasionally, a Teacher will bring deserts to have with the coffee and cigarettes, which conjures up memories of the next legend.  A Teachers’ Aide tries to climb a wall as a result of this farce. The Aide in question has a well-known sweet tooth because she is always scavenging for food in the lounge.  This fact had not gone unnoticed to another Teacher who has a plan for seeing how far this Aide will go for her next sugar fix.

The joke is centered on a small stuffed rat that the joker-Teacher has hidden in a pie pan and covered with tin foil to look like a tin of cookies.  At break time, the prankster waits until all Aides and Teachers are seated.  Clutching the cookie tin and trying to suppress a giggle, the young Teacher exhibits his prize near the couch where the marked candy connoisseur is setting.

(Good…She takes the bait)……."Let’s see what you brought……I hope its fudge...I didn’t know you could cook,” the Aide whispers as she lifts the edge of the foil and peeks in.   Her mouth is certainly already producing the saliva that will aid the expected indulgence. The girlish, small voice abruptly turns into a booming screech of a ghoul as the lady realizes that the fudge has turned into a small rodent.  Some wild animal must be making this wild reactive yell because the sound that issues forth from the Teacher’s Aide is not human.  The human instinct of survival has taken over the panicking lady as she now tries to distance her self from the rat pan.  She chooses to head in the opposite direction from the pseudo cookie tin which now mandates her to climb on to the back of the old couch behind two other Teachers.

One teacher later describes the event as similar to what happened when he disturbed a feral cat that had slipped into his car when the window was down.  When the man got in the drivers seat, he suddenly experienced what he felt was a whaling banshee climbing up his coat, racing across his neck and out the window.  Likewise, the aide is now on the back of the couch, but she is trying to climb the south wall of the lounge to get higher and further from the source of terror.  The event only takes a couple of seconds to unfold, but the event is so out of control that, that witnesses report later that time seemed to stand still.

The panic that suddenly gripped the room is now over.  Both the joker and jokee now appear to be embarrassed by how the event boomed out of control.  No one speaks, but all eyes are on the Aide who has come down from her perch, and is now more or less composed. Several muffled laughs accent the overpowering silence in the group of educators.  The potentially funny caper has turned into a major psychotic episode that leaves the participants wishing they were somewhere else.

Other thoughts of similar events like this come back after viewing the old workroom and lounge.  What triggers these memories could be something as simple as the smells lingering in the air or sound of a footfall echoing across the room. Perhaps the empty aluminum pie pan sitting under the dying ivy was the precursor to this remembrance. It is hard to tell what triggers certain thoughts. Well, nothing else much is going on here (quietly closing the door).

Chapter 6. North-South Hall: Old School Ambience

The faded floors of the halls might show plenty of black scuff marks and a few missing tiles, since most cleaning takes place after school is dismissed. The tiles will be repaired in the summer.  A periodic mopping might leave a strong smell of some institutional detergent with ammonia, or maybe even a pine scent.   However, by mid day the floor is probably dusty or muddy depending on the environmental conditions outside.  A rainy day may find the hall so filled with muddy shoe prints that it might seem impossible for a custodian to clean them.

A janitor’s bucket on wheels rests out of the way under the stairwell on the north stairs near 6B.  A heavy mop immersed in brown liquid is waiting to be used.  The words "North War" are scrawled across the side of the bucket in big black letters.  The misspelled word is not exactly an incorrect characterization for what the building cleaners have to go through each day. No janitor can clean hard enough to prevent the inevitable pounding shoes and sneakers from doing their worst.

While the halls are dark, the large, spacious rooms are extremely bright due to the number of windows.  One wall in each room is composed of practically all windows.  It is often possible to conduct class with out lights on because of this brightness.  However, rooms on the south side often get too much bright light, so most of these windows have heavy black curtains, and some even have the windows painted. Students in certain parts of a room often complaint about not being able to see the chalk board because of the glare from window rows.  Sometimes, a teacher might cut the light off to improve this optical deficiency.

 A dark room is necessary to show educational films since rooms can not really be made projector friendly.  The dark room is right in the very center of the building, where no natural light can invade.  The dark room has over 30 chairs arranged in rows facing the south wall where the projection screen is located. The north portion of the room shows plaster falling off and the exposed underlay of one inch wooden strips. On hot days ventilation is a problem for film viewers; however, most occupants have become acclimatized.  Students tend to forgive the close proximity of stinky sneakers, underarm odor, or even the bad breath from fellow audience members, especially if the film is interesting.

The films come in flat metal canisters; subsequently, one can judge the length of the film by the size of the container.  Most Teachers think that long film length is good and short is not quite as good. The projectors have to be threaded to load the ribbons of 16 mm film, so that the movie will view properly and wind up on the “take-up” reel.  Then afterwards, the reels are reversed and rewound at a fast speed to make the movie viewable again for the next showing. 

The films come every Tuesday from the regional service center called Region 9.   Teachers watch for the ESC 9 delivery car to make sure that all the films that they ordered get delivered.  Teachers who do not get their expected films exhibit a mixture of anger, frustration, and grief.  This means that some other Teacher in one of the districts served by Region 9 has failed to send the requested film back on time. Normally docile professionals can become psychotic if their films do not arrive on time.

As we look in, the darkness makes its hard to see who the Teacher and class are but the film appears to be about blood circulation.  We should pause to let the pupils of our eyes adjust to the darkness, so that we can observe what transpires. This is the first class that we have seen in action, but under the pitch black cover of darkness, it is almost like no one is really there. Hemo the Magnificent, circa 1955, is a Walt Disney production about how the heart pumps blood.  Hemo, the animated character, is challenging the scientist actor to tell him how sea water and blood are related.  Hemo has a deeply, articulate voice that makes him seem wise and friendly, probably to appeal to elementary age children.

A couple of viewers then look to their left and rear to see an elderly man with a big push broom quietly padding into the janitor’s room entrance.  The main janitor's closet is on the east side of the dark room; consequently custodians have to cross through to get to their supplies. The Dark Room has two doors, a north door and a south door.  From the take-up reel, it appears that the movie is about mid-way through.  The outline of an adult female is seen fumbling to open the canister for the second half of the movie.  Therefore, there is going to be some down time while she rewinds the first half of the show, so that she can show the second half. We have been peeping in the north door, so now we need to move on.  As we turn to leave, we notice that students have begun to talk and get restless as they wait on the rewinding of the first reel of film.

Chapter 7. Look and Listen to the Building Talk

After moving out of the dark, let’s think about some of the brighter aspects of this old building.  Looking out the windows at the inviting panorama of the school grounds and surrounding dwellings and businesses for too long is called being off task. The inviting portrait of the playground outside sets the imagination to thinking of the soon to come freedom from academic bondage, which would be lunch or recess. Some party-pooper Teachers have put obstructions on the glass wall to hinder outside distractions.  Various methods of isolation include painting the window or putting up curtains. 

The indiscretion of gazing out the window usually gets the daydreamer in trouble.  Consequently, students in classrooms on the ground floor probably feel like they are working in a fish bowl if any activity, or recess, is going on outside while they are working. Teachers have to be stationed on the playground strategically to keep roaming kids at recess from venturing to close to open windows.  

In the winter, the distinct hum of many large heaters can be heard almost anywhere in the building.  These big blowers, strapped to the ceilings well out of the way, can blow out huge quantities of hot air.  The walls and upstairs floor literally vibrate with the mechanical monotony of hot air blowers.  An adult can reach the thermostat to set the temperature, but luckily it is out of reach for smaller kids. 

The rule in winter is simple based on the heating methods: the room is either too cold or too hot.  When the ceilings furnaces come on, veteran Teachers understand that they will have to talk quite a bit louder to be heard above the rattling monsters. The minute Teachers hear the metallic click of the thermostat and gas starts to burn, they increase their vocal projection by two fold so that students do not miss a word of their valuable pronouncements.

In early fall or spring, many windows will be propped open to let in fresh air, since there is no air conditioning.  This of course presents the problem of playground noise causing students to get distracted.  Subsequently, often a sudden WHACK startles nearby rooms, when someone lets one of the see-saw windows come crashing down.  Janitors know the drill when a window is shattered and they are there quickly to clean up glass, and install the new window.  Fresh window putty is mashed into place around the glass and all is new again.  Of course curious students may dig in the gooey stuff that feels like play dough until after a few days the putty hardened. Stray finger prints become fossils in the glazing compound as the soft stuff hardens, and evidence of a child’s existence is preserved for history.

While continuing to walk through the old building, just let the mundane atmosphere take the mind to where ever it wants to go with its memories.  If visiting during class time, the building is relatively quiet, like it is now, except for an occasional chair or desk sliding across a floor.  Baize metal student desks have a grinding metallic voice when they are slid over the floor.  Student desks and chairs come in two sizes: small and large.

Woe is unto the youngster who rocks back to far in his chair, because the resulting backwards crash is certain to bring a roar of laughter from the class and a scolding from the Teacher. “Quit leaning back in that chair” is a mantra that is chatted constantly by the adult at the front of the group.  When a certain 6^th Grade Teacher is out of the room, a certain farm boy from south of town can actually rock on one chair leg, left arm raised in the air , and slap his back end.  He always ends his mock bronco ride with a quiet “yee-haw,” while the other kids laugh. He has not ever been thrown from his horse chair yet, but give him time; he is just in the 6^th Grade.

Low voices can be heard from various classrooms, especially those with doors left open.  One might recognize some of these female voices because they are mostly veteran teachers with grades four, five and six. From the ground floor, a visitor can hear random echoes and vibrations coming from the floor above. The ghost echoes, becoming unnoticed after a while, hint of a more exciting and mysterious life going on above. Dropped books, banging lockers, footfalls, and loud yells all blend together to become the voice of the great unknown to the younger kids.

Finally, the quiet hall comes alive, dispelling the idea that this is some kind of well ordered and regimented institution. A young boy walking to the restroom is squeaking his rubber soles on the floor as he hurries along laughing at his own foolishness.  On his way back to class he puts a nickel in the pencil machine in the front hall, pulls the lever, and sees his bright yellow purchase fall into the tray.  He skips back toward class not noticing several black scuff marks left on the relatively clean floor.

Chapter 7.  Upstairs: Survival of the Fittest

Upstairs where older students hold court, slightly louder noises are coming from several rooms.  Moving up the south stairs, several metallic clanks and a few wooden creaks measure our slow progress as our feet trod upwards. Instinctively we grasp the side rail for balance as we move up.  The wooden railing has a patina, a smooth polishing, from all the hands that have slid along it. 

The mood is different up here, almost like a frontier town.  We peer over the edge of the stairs just to be reassured that the bottom world is real and still there.   We may want to go back there soon because mixed with the musty, dusty air is the hint of adolescent hormones and certain pheromones that feel more asocial than not. The tremendous energy in the air smells of rebelliousness and potential disorder, held in a fragile bottle with the cork about to shoot off.

Suddenly, a whole class erupts in a chorus of laughter as we near the top of the stairs.  Some 13 year old comedian has blurted something that his classmates think is funny, but the Teacher disagrees.  Then out of nowhere booms a stern rebuke as a male voice seems to be preaching the funeral of the young joker.  This diatribe, echoing through the upstairs classes and even drifting downstairs, is ended with words “please go stand in the hall!” 

Like a cold north wind, the confrontation puts a chill on everyone in every room that can hear it (which is most the upstairs rooms).  The whole second floor is quiet now as students in adjacent rooms just look at each other, not saying anything, but quietly knowing that some poor Teacher’s buttons have been pushed.

After this outburst, things simmer down for a while; nonetheless, the 50 minute period still has 30 minutes left.  From the north end of the upstairs hall, a water fountain compressor quietly starts to whine after a thirsty eighth grader gulps several long pulls from the arcing stream of water. 

Another boy is bounding down the stairs; taking them two at a time with his right hand sliding down the stair banister, probably on his way to the restroom on the first floor.  This boy is a smallish 7^th Grader who is probably hyperactive, but this terminology has not become part of educational jargon yet.  If this kid could only have been born ten years later, his whole educational career might have been different. At this time, he is just another discipline problem, having a tough time with structured academia.

 At the north end of the upstairs hall, a student is standing in the hall with his back flat against the wall. He wears the startled, big eyed look of a man facing a hangman’s noose.  He may be trying to blend-in with the wall to keep from being noticed by passersby.  This is the joker who was sent to the hall moments ago.  With a worried look on his face, he is probably waiting on the Teacher to come out and chat with him about his behavior.  A hundred thoughts, all of them bad, race through his mind as he thinks about what his friends, parents, and more importantly, what the offended Teacher is going to say. He might even be praying silently that the Teacher does not bring a paddle with him.

By now the small 7^th grader, finished with the restroom visit, is bounding back up the opposite stairs, but he is not heading to the room he came from. Instead he stops by a locker at the north end and appears to be stirring the contents, made up of books and loose paper.  All the books are neatly covered, probably by his mother, but the arrangement of paper and binders is a mess.  A blue fountain pen, one with the plastic cartridges of ink, falls to the floor amid the wild thrashing of the locker’s contents.  The boy is not in the state of mind to even bend over to pick up the utensil that cost 98 cents at Ben Franklin’s.  However, the ink cartridge pen will be a valuable find for another boy going to the library in about 10 minutes.

Miraculously, the rummaging boy finds a piece of notebook paper folded between the pages of a book, pulls it out for examination with a slight smile, and then slams the locker.  The banging of the metal door vibrates through the upstairs hall, careening through the quietness like a boulder tossed in still water.  The nervous student sent to the hall yanks his head to the left to see what is going on, suddenly forgetting his own misfortune.  The hyper kid, through stirring the contents of his locker, sticks his tongue out as a “mind your own business” rebuff and scampers back to the south room from which he originally came.  

As the 7^th grader noisily stumbles into the room, his Teacher’s face involuntarily curls with a slight grimace, as his glaring eyes cut to watch the boy hold up his prized piece of paper for the whole room to see.  Sullenly the boy interrupts the Teacher’s monologue, on acceptable answers to question two of yesterday’s homework assignment, with a defiant “I told you I had my work done!”  The Teacher, knowing that any other interaction now will only destroy valuable class time, chooses to hold his fire.  The Teacher grits his teeth and continues with discussion of the human cell, and the five homework questions that were due today.

Finally, the third period bell rings, but it sounds more like a guttural buzz instead of a bell.  In one room on the southeast hall, a teacher is still talking but students are standing and waiting impatiently, some gathering their books and others literally patting their feet in disgust. A chorus of silent mental protests is being broadcast through the room: “Let us go…let us go…let us go, you old lady.”  This "old lady" is actually only 26 years old.

Soon all the seventh and eighth graders are spilling out into the halls.  Some are rifling through lockers looking for materials for the next class.  Seldom used map colors, blunt tips scissors, and book satchels are stirred like a blender by busy hands trying to find the right textbook for the next class.  Scores of kids are headed to the restroom downstairs. The parade of students along the top hall is like a bee hive, but the traffic moves along nicely with only a few rowdies pushing the person ahead.

A quick scan of Seventh and Eighth grade kids features all shapes and sizes.  Some look like mere babies while others look almost like adults.  Many of the more precocious boys and girls are paired off talking, smiling, and passing on the latest news. Most are decked out in the same uniform including a cotton shirt, Levis, and sneakers. Many of these shoes, referred to as “tinny” shoes have a Keds logo on the side; however, Converse high-tops are also in fashion. Not surprisingly, many boys wear black leather loafers; however, everyone wears white socks regardless of the shoe style they prefer.

The five minutes between classes will be too much time for some and not enough time for others. Two boys get caught running in the hall and a Teacher tells them to go back to the south stairway and walk back as they should have done in the first place.  The two go back to the south stairs and imitate the slow motion movement of a popular TV program about a Six Million Dollar Man.  The Teacher traffic cop thinks that this is very funny, and chuckles out loud. The laughter encourages the Lee Majors mimics to go into an even slower gear, which is now impeding the progress of other students trying to get to various classes.

Practically the tallest boy in the hall is a 5’4” kid who stands head and shoulder above most of the other boys.  He is arguably the best football player on the squad, which has just finished its last game.  The other kids call him “Horse;” however most do not say it to his face.  One version of how the nickname came about says that he runs like a horse, when he carries the football.  His distracters say that when he laughs he sounds like a horse neighing.  Nonetheless, the Football Coach gave him the name one day in practice, and no one is on record as ever asking Coach which version is correct.

Horse is leaning against one of the library double doors talking to his latest ‘steady.’  This biggest kid in the hall more resembles a man than a boy, and he is roughly handsome and apparently popular, or at least important to his peers.  He is easily the best talent on the football team, and is looking forward to continuing his success on the basketball team.  Horse’s physical maturity, muscular development, coordination, and speed make him appear to be a man among the boys as smaller males hustle by and look at him with respectful smiles.  They are acknowledging that he is an alpha male and they are lower down in the herd hierarchy.

On the ground floor, the younger kids do not get up when the bell rings.  They hear the echoes of heavy traffic above them, and the metallic, vibrating “whams” of lockers being slammed.  Fourth and fifth graders do not have lockers to go to, so they wait patiently for a restroom brake and a chance to get a drink.  The big kids need to clear out of the restroom first. These younger kids are eager to take their break because recess is coming up next.

Chapter 8.  Recess on the Hard-pack

No real work can be done while classes are changing upstairs.  Fourth graders might be putting books and assignments away in their desks to get ready for the next subject.  They probably keep the same teacher for most of their subjects, so they wait for her queue as to what to do next.  Some faces may be tilted upward as if to watch the ceiling of the room for movement from the stampeding feet above.  Light fixtures may wiggle slightly to give the impression that much commotion is going on above.  After less than 5 minutes, most of the vibration and clopping of feet has come to an abrupt halt.  It is almost as if someone upstairs said,” Freeze,” and everyone stopped in their tracts.  This happens every period of the day when tardy bell rings.

Now the younger kids on the bottom floor can take their break.  Some rooms will line up at the door and literally march to the restroom, water fountain, or play ground.  Why not follow these kids to recess because the weather is nice today.  On the hard-packed, dirt playground, seasoned with a few goat heads, grass can seldom find a friendly spot to grow.  Nonetheless, recess means relative freedom from the confinement created by academic necessity.

Several students moving up the east hall have various pieces of equipment that they were assigned to carry.  One boy has an old basketball that appears to need airing up.  Other students have what looks like soccer balls or volleyballs.  These kids head directly to the asphalt basketball court on the east side of the building. The old gym is off-limits to the younger kids because they do not have organized PE.  Their recess usually consists of doing what they want to do.  Later today older boys with standard white t-shirts and shorts will inherit this area for organized PE.  Dry good stores in town stock the standard white PE shorts, and coaches insist that everyone boy wears the same outfit.

Many boys and girls have formed lines on the north playground where there is plenty of room for running.  Their game begins with kids interlocking their arms, as the two lines face each other.  The captain of the west line calls the name of a boy with this chant: “Red Rover, Red Rover, let Roger come over.”  The called boy from the opposing line scrapes his feet like a bull planning to charge a matador, and takes off toward the enemy line.  He easily breaks through the line of interlocking arms.  He proudly takes one captive back to his line.

Next, the captain of the east line calls a smaller girl by name.  She covers her mouth like she is embarrassed, then half-heartedly runs at the opposition, but when she get to the interlocking arms, she seems to melt as the enemy arms hold. She is kept by the team that she could not break through.  Strangely, she seems pleased that she is now part of the other team.  Students take turns trying to run at and through each other’s lines for the next 20 minutes until most get bored with the game.

Soon the red rover game evolves into another game called Black Man. Kids run from the east end near the maypole to the west end side walk and try to avoid getting tagged by kids stationed in the middle.  If a runner gets tagged, he or she stays in the middle and acts as a tagger to catch other runners.

The north side of the school has several large oak trees that attract kids who want to observe the north playground activities without participating.  It is pleasant and shady there on this warm late fall day, but nonetheless, it is too close to the fourth grade rooms, and so these kids are asked to move away from this area by the Teacher on duty.

Two small boys try their hand at the maypole, just north of the paved basketball court.  Several metal chains hang from the top of the pivoting pole.  Students run holding tight to the chain and let the momentum carry them for a few feet before loosing the grip.  This machine is hard on the hands, so the boy quickly move off to the shade of a nearby oak. For some reason, possibly a safety concern, this pole will be taken down over the summer.

Students on the asphalt basketball court are playing kick ball with an old volleyball. One boy with a new pair of pointed-toe cowboy boots kicks the ball so hard that it travels to the northern fence near East Pine Street.  He lopes around to touch all the bases, but slips at second base, which is the north basketball goal.  The boots that he was so proud of have become a liability on the slick asphalt surface; however, he still gets an easy homerun.

Just north of the gym, near Cooke Street are an overhead ladder and a swing set.  A few kids are trying to reach the end of the ladder, but most find it too hard on the hands and fall down after the first couple of rungs.  This area also has half a dozen large oak trees that act as bases for tag, or obstacles for keep-a-way.  They also produce good crops of acorns that can be thrown at enemies when Teachers are not watching.

The swing sets will disappear in a year from now after series of students get minor injuries. One boy is knocked out while walking behind a moving swing, and another boy get his knees and elbows scraped when a chain breaks.

Chapter 9. The Smell of a Gym

A parade of Junior High girls is strutting to the gray painted brick Gym because their PE period is in the morning. They will soon put on white striped gym suits that smell like sweat.  The female Gym Teacher forces them to wash their uniforms once a week whether they need it or not. Most of the girls are present for duty to run basketball drills, but a sizeable number of girls have not “dressed-out” and just sit in the bleachers and stare blankly into space. The watchers will get a zero for today, and several of them will actually fail PE for the six-weeks.

Quickly, practice starts with the clacking and squeaking of sneakers echoing through the once quiet gym, as girls move up and down the buckling floor at a rapid pace. Girl’s basketball is still a half-court game, with forwards playing at one end and guards playing at the other end.  The guard’s job is to stop the opposing forwards from scoring and get the ball back to half-court so that their own forward can take the ball to set up an offensive play.

One girl steps within inches of a floor board that is completely gone, but does not even notice.  The girls consider the warped and uneven flooring as part of the game, and ignore it.  The old floor is in desperate need of sanding and refinishing, but it will never happen.  Administrators have already decided that the floor is too damaged to repair properly.

The junior high Gym was built in 1923 as a combination gymnasium and cafeteria.  The kitchen and serving line are just north of the small visitor’s bleacher that lines the east wall.  Folding tables are unfolded and rolled on the gym floor during lunch, then cleared and stored afterward. 

Most students enter the Gym from the northwestern side door, instead of the two main entrances at the front or south end, accept for lunch. The side door leads past the boys’ locker room and coaches’ office.  There is one small water fountain in this hall that thirsty athletes vie for position to control. Lines form at this low set white bowl and those queued to get drinks will chide the person in front to hurry up, and not hog all the water.

On the north wall just inside the north entrance, there is a snack machine that sells packages of cookies and candy.  Just slide a nickel in the slot, pull the lever, and a tasty treat falls down the chute.  If there is a ball game in the gym and the concession stand is open, then the candy machine is turned to face the wall, so that no one can buy anything there.

On entering the north door, visitors can immediately smell the locker room scent that is universally known as sweat.  This subtle, musty aroma reminds visitors exactly where they are, right outside the boys’ dressing room.  Both boys’ and girls’ dressing rooms are dark, dank places with hard concrete floors.  On passing by the boys’ dressing room and water fountain, one is now practically on the gym floor near the home bleachers. A make-shift concession stand is squeezed in just to the north of the home bleachers. On the north end a small door opens to allow access under the home bleachers.  It is used to store boxes of old athletic equipment.

This year Junior High Girls have PE in the middle of the morning.  Boys have their PE during last period.  After lunch today, we will get to see an interesting but disturbing incident during boys' PE.  But before then, we still have much ground to cover.  Notice that the girls are starting to finish up with their workout.  It is a fast practice because by the time they get into their PE suits they only have 45 minutes to workout.  The female coach is calling them to the center of court to give them some final instructions before dismissal.  These girls will actually be having their first basketball game tonight right here on this very court.

After practice ends, the sweating girls meander toward the northeast corner of the gym to their locker room. A few girls notice three Cafeteria “Ladies” gearing up for lunch hour as they head to the dressing room.  If they were not so winded they might pay attention to a strong pleasant, yeasty smell, probably from the fresh rolls that are being baked.  At this time of day the smell of cooking food permeates the gym and cafeteria.  One lady is carefully handling a large flat try with two white towels.  This tray is full of meat loaf sliced like cake with a bright red coating of catsup. Two janitors have already started to roll the tables out to get ready for lunch, now that junior high girls have left the court. 

It is 10:30 AM and that is where we leave this visit to North Ward.  Remember, this is only an excerpt.  There are many more hours of the school day left. You did not really expect to get it all did you?

North Ward is not finished yet.  It will be a book that is for sale.  If you think this project is worth finishing let me know.