High School Remembrances
Opinions and stories below are the responsibility of their individual authors.

Remember Miss Carter?  She accepted a teaching position at Pampa High straight out of her college work, coming to us from either North Texas State or that women's college in Denton.

Anyway, remember when she was going to give us a test, we were instructed to place one sheet of notebook paper on our desks, put our books, etc. under our desks, pass our one sheet forward to the front, where she would pick up the sheets, shuffle them and pass them back out to us?  Unbelievable.

I think she owned the first Volkswagen to cruise the streets of Pampa.  She lived in those apartments across the street from Central Park.  Every night, her little Bug was parked in front of the apartments.  Well, one night a group of boys (I won't say which boys) got together, picked up Miss Carter's little car and planted it between two trees next to the apartment's driveway.  Her little pride and joy was bumper to bumper with the trunks of two very large trees.  There was no way to dislodge it without help.  Miss Carter arrived at school late the next morning, and she was not a happy camper.  Every class she taught that day opened with those dreaded words, "Take out one sheet of notebook paper….".
      …. Jim Edwards

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Remember Miss Clubb, that four-foot ten-inch package of dynamite that could make the largest boy in class quake in his boots when she got on one of her rampages?  The study of American History was never the same after studying under Miss Clubb.  

Remember Current Events?  Her classroom was divided into five rows of seats.  Each row was assigned a day of the week, beginning with Monday for the row on her far right, then Tuesday, etc., ending with Friday on her far left.  Depending on the day of the week, each of students on the assigned row would have to stand up and tell the rest of the class about some current event that had occurred during the past 24 hours.  After the first student enlightened us with his current event story, the next student would tell us about some other current event, and so on until everyone in the row had taken their turn.  Problem was that no one could repeat any current event that had already surfaced that day.  I always felt sorry for the student who was last on any given day.  My row had six students in it.  Number six always struggled to give us something different.  I had a Daily Spokesman's paper route in those days, and I would bring a copy of the paper with me each day for the students in the row expected to perform.

Recall how her salt-and-pepper hair was always pulled straight back, terminating in a salt-and-pepper bun of hair on the back of her head.  One day, we came to school in a rainstorm.  Wind and rain had soaked us all.  Miss Clubb arrived late that day, and we were all in our seats when she came in.  After Current Events, she turned to write something on the blackboard.  Her bun had slipped to the side, revealing a large bald spot on the back of her head.  Simultaneously, there were several audible snickers and three or four pretty loud chuckles from us.  She whipped around, shouting, "What's so funny?  Who's laughing?"  No one volunteered any information.  We were all too busy staring at the floor, trying to not look guilty.  When she turned back to the blackboard, we tried to stifle our snickers, but a couple leaked out anyway.  She turned and threw her chalk towards the back of the room.  We all ducked as it sailed over our heads, crashing into the blackboard at the back.  I found by looking at the floor when she turned her back, I could control my laughter.  When class ended, the hallway outside her classroom erupted into side-splitting, gut-wrenching, uninhibited laughter.

… Jim Edwards

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Although I do not recall Ms Carter or her VW, Jim Edwards' VW story brought a double chuckle. You might remember my very unusual, miniature, Crosley, station wagon. Crosley was already out of business when I acquired it. It was just one size larger than myself -actually, it would haul 6 persons 'uncomfortably'!  Well one afternoon in what I recall as a - FFA vs Band 'challenge' - the Crosley was carried from the back parking lot up onto the back porch of the high school where I found it after class. There must have been from 12 to 20 steps if you recall. Pondering the predicament for only a moment, my free-thinking brother Roger got behind the wheel and just drove it down the steps. There was always a shortage of spaces in the lot, but not that day.

... Kenneth McWaters

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High tech came to Pampa in the '50s in the form of transistor radios.  Raymond Brown brought one of the first transistor radios I had ever seen to school.  He had carved out the interior pages of an old book where the radio was easily concealed.  I persuaded him to let me borrow it one day on my way to physics class.  While James Webb was lecturing, I turned it on and he started looking around.  It wasn't playing that loudly and he went over to the window and looked out.  Then he opened the door and looked up and down the hall.  I turned it off while he was looking away.  Just as class ended, I turned it on again as we left class and several classmates surrounded me as we left. He looked us all over shaking his head. Fortunately about half the class was laughing so he didn't pinpoint me.  He never figured out where it was coming from. 

... Luther Norman

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I remember Mrs. Carter and her V.W. very well. I remember Mrs. Clubb also but lucked out and didn't have her. When I saw the picture with me and Mrs Capps I wondered who or where that picture came from? I remember what she was saying. My Jr. year, just before semester exams I had to have my tonsils removed. I was in the hospital eight days and missed semester Test. I drove up to the parking lot the first day back and here came Janice Dillman and jumped in the car with me and and said I have all the exams and the answers on them for you to study tonight if you can get the teachers to give you one more day. Everything went fine till english period. It was fifth peorid and we were having a basketball pep rally. Mrs Capps told to take the exam that she gave and to do the best I could and leave it on her desk and come to the ralley. When everyone left the room I got the test that Janice had given me and signed my name on it and almost beat the class to the rally. What you really see in that picture is Mrs. Capps giving all billy heck because she didn't believe I was the only student in that class abel to make a perfect score on the test. I told I did the best I could. The funny thing about all of that she gave the hundred on my Report card. That was the only hundred I every made on a report card.

 ...Jesse Ring

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I recall how excited we were as we finished our last fifth-grade classes at Horace Mann Elementary.  Excited because when school started again, we would be sixth graders, and we would go to Junior High School.  Back then, Junior High contained the sixth, seventh and eight grades.  The ninth graders through the Seniors went to Pampa High.

Early on, Jr. High was fun.  We got to meet all those guys from other elementary schools who began the sixth grade with us.  After a while, we realized that we were fodder for the seventh and eighth graders who chose to pick on us since we were at the bottom of the totem pole.  We couldn't wait until we were seventh graders, so we could do some of the pickin' on the new sixth grade kids.  Well, when we started seventh grade, we found that we were still at the bottom of the totem pole.  Jr. High now consisted of seventh, eighth and ninth graders.  Sophomores, Juniors and Seniors went to high school. 

One of the Clowns of the sixth grade was Terry Timmens.  We were happy to have Terry in our homeroom, since hardly a day passed without Terry doing something or saying something that would make us all laugh.

On the first day of our sixth grade experience, we were all assigned to our homerooms.  One of the first things we did that year was to elect homeroom class officers.  Our room elected one of the prettiest girls in class, Janet or Janice Somebody, to be our president, since us boys had begun to pay attention to girls.

After the first student council meeting, the newly-elected president returned to our homeroom class.  The teacher asked her to give us a report, and then the teacher left the room.  The president began her presentation, but every time she said anything, Terry would stand up and make a comment that would create a wave of chuckles throughout the room.  Finally, she said, "Terry, if you don't sit down and be quiet, I'll tell the teacher on you."  To which Terry replied, "If you do that, I'll cut your water off and leave your meter hanging out!" 

Peals of laughter rocked our room, bringing the teacher back in to quell the noise.  To my knowledge, Terry didn't get into trouble, so I'm pretty sure no one told on him.

... Jim Edwards

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Kenneth Mc Waters' story about his little Crosley station wagon brought back some memories about autos.  Kenneth, I remember your car.  I thought it was neat.  At least, you had an automobile.  I didn't have one until my last year in college.  I bet your little Crosley would be a collector's item today.

In 1955, our Dad bought a new 1955 Ford Fairlane.  He gave our 1940 Plymouth, which had been our family's mode of transportation since 1941, to my brother, Robert. 

Robert spent the summer between our sophomore and junior years customizing his car.  He leaded and decked it, replaced the running boards with custom-made aluminum inserts, dropped the rear end four inches, shaved the head on the six-cylinder engine, installed twin pipes with Hollywood glass-packs and mounted white sidewall tires with moon hub caps.  Lastly, he coated the exterior with three coats of Cadillac Dawn Gray paint.

What a beauty it was, sitting in our Dad's garage, next to his workshop on Roberta Street.  We couldn't wait until the paint had set up enough to allow us to give it a spin.

Finally, one night in August, we took it out, with Robert driving and with me riding shotgun, for a spin or two around the drag. 

Because of Daylight Savings Time, the sun set late, bringing on the street lights.  Beneath the sodium vapor lights being used in downtown Pampa at the time, the Cadillac Dawn Gray color became a brilliant pink. 

We stopped at a red-light, across the street from Jr. High.  A car pulled up on our right, containing four or five Afro-American (the current, in vogue, politically correct phrase being used to identify people of color, I think) young men.  The driver stuck his head out, admiring the car.  He looked at me and said, "Man, I likes dat colah!"

Robert hollered across, "Do you want to race?"  They answered, "No, Man, we don't want to race.  We just likes dat colah!"

When the light changed, Robert popped the clutch, and we sped away, leaving them sitting at the light, admiring the car.  Later that evening, we both laughed at their comments. 

I'm glad Robert never changed his car's color.  It was truly beautiful the way it was.

... Jim Edwards

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Cars were a hands-on enterprise back in the 50s and pink was not so bad. I discovered there is a CrosleyClub now and they were manufactured from 1939 (a date we have in common) until 1952. I am sure that most of us worked, but I did yard work beginning at 9 yrs andlater on also had a paper route. That allowed me to acquire the lowest price model used Cushman scooter and drive it to Jr. High. Some ancient Judge granted me a permit to drive it and later a full license when I turned 15. That allowed me to "trade-up" to the Crosley and later acquire a 53 Chevy flat head 6 which I did some customizing work on and painted metallic green. The stroke of luck came in '58.  I was in Borger and just longingly stopped by a Ford dealer to look at the new Fairlanes. They were slow to assist me and it took a while for this old guy (much younger than I am now) to amble up to me. He asked if I wanted to buy a car. I could tell that he was not in a good mood so I did not want to waste his time and answered that I could not afford one, just looking. He asked if my car was paid for and I said yes. He said - then I have one that you can afford if you can stand the color. He took me to a 57 Fairlane that had 7,000 miles on it --but it was "salmon" pink and white. (The 59s were justarriving) When I said I can't, I'm a student, he persisted, almost commanded -- this was my wife's car and she left me, divorced me, and I just got it back on the lot today and it's going to be gone before
tomorrow -- I don't want to look at it. Pink or not, I drove the car home that day -- free and clear. Odd,being in Borger and on that lot at just that moment. It was embarrassing that my car was newer than my parents, but I showed them how much was  left in mycollege fund and they liked the deal. 

... Kenneth McWaters

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"Reputation is Everything"
I mowed and edged for a spinster High School teacher during the summer. Her instruction was for me to come in for a break of lemonade and cookies between the back and front yards and again afterward for my pay. Her brother arrived for a visit as I got started andleft as I took the break. She (I have decided not to name her even after all these years) was not in the kitchen during my break to see the fifth of Jack Daniels standing alone on the immaculate kitchen cabinet. When I finished the yard and returned to the kitchen she nervously greeted me with, "The bottlethat was on the counter belongs to my brother -- I don't drink and he did not put it away." I took the pay, gulped my lemonade and said, "Thank you, but I didn't notice any bottle." She had always been good for a smile at school, but it seemed to me they got longer and brighter after that.

... Kenneth McWaters

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Speaking of Ms. Carter, I have two remembrances, but I'm not signing my name to either.  She was notorious for keeping tests for a lengthy amount of time before handing them back and with my grades, I was very interested in what grade I had made.  I was the elected inquisitor and asked every day, "when will we get our tests back", until Ms. Carter had had enough.  The last time, my reply was "Just when do you think we will get them back".  She said go outside and wait, we're going to the principles office.  I went out side and waited and then Sara Lou Harnley came out and then two more I can't remember and we all trooped to the principles office.  She turned us in and then went back to class.  Whoever the principle was at the time (my poor ol memory has left me) told us to take it easy on her since she was new.

At the very first class we had with Ms. Carter, she called the roll.  We were rolling along until she came to Lu Koch's name, which was pronounced Cook, but Ms. Carter mispronounced it as to what it looks like it would be.  It happened to be a little off color and I laughed out loud, expecting others to also laugh.  No one did, except me.  I was chastised severely and became number one Ms. Carter's A list.

 Also, about six of us took her little VW and took it to a door that went into the gym.  We were able to line it up between the two brick walls that framed the door and them shove it sideways into the space.  She had about six inches of clearance in front and back.  We never found out how she got it out but I think the coaches all chipped in and drug it out.

 That's here but I swear to nothing.

... Don Allen


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One of those spring days in Mrs. Lamb's Biology class when it was "in" to carry a water gun for some reason or other, a water gun fight had been on going throughout the morning.  I forget who all was involved.  There were at least 5 to 10 of us.  All I remember is that when Mrs. Lamb was out of the class, I squirted either Glen Howell or James Weathered.  When I did that about 7 or 8 guys whipped out their water guns and totally drenched me.  I sat next to the blackboard and there was my outline in water on the blackboard.  Mrs Lamb, if you will recall, didn't see too well and when she walked back in the room and everyone was laughing, she looked around and saw the water on the blackboard.  I had wet hair, water running from my glasses and face so I got sent to the office and my water gun confiscated with the warning that if there was a next time, I would be punished. 

... Luther Norman

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Was it not Ms. Clubb who cherished the rep of being able to smell chewing gum for 50 ft. down the hall -- and when you walked into her class she sent you back to your last classroom to dispose of it?

... Kenneth McWaters

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I think it was our eighth grade art theacher that smelled gum and could tell the brand. It could have been Mrs. Clubb as I never was in her class. Speaking of Miss Carter as I read Don's tale of her I remember that she made you learn a poem and write with no mistakes. That meant all the spelling and every thing had to be right. She said you either made a hundred or a zero. As always I opened my big mouth let her know what I thought of that. So to the office I went. Mr. Edmonds wanted to know what I had done. Seems he was getting tired of students comming to his office almost every period from Miss Carter's english class. I told every thing and he sent for Miss Carter and made me say I was sorry for the words that I used and told her no one was perfect and that we would be graded on how many mistakes we made. Well you know I made 70 onthat semester on english litature.

...Jesse Ring

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Jesse--In answer to your question----the art teacher's name was Miss Roy Riley. She not only could tell what kind of gum it was but also WHO was chewing it, for example "Larry go spit out that juicy fruit (or whatever) RIGHT NOW" I never figured that one out! pretty mystical huh. I was in Miss Clubb's  homeroom. Looks like her "legend" continues 50 odd years later! 

... Larry Ray

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It's a lot of fun recalling some of the humorous happenings and experiences concerning some of our teachers and classmates that cause us to smile and laugh, and we should continue to do so.  Those help us to recognize that our years at good ol' PJHS and PHS really were a hoot for the most part.  I, for one, am anxious to read more. 
   
However, it occurred to me that maybe we should recognize also those teachers, friends, parents, etc., who had a positive impact on our lives while we were in school.

The one high school teacher who probably had the most lasting impact on my life was Ms. Tarpley.  You may remember that she taught American literature.  Each of our every-six-weeks' book reports had to be on a book written by an American author.  The second six weeks, my report was on "The History of the World" by Sir Walter Raleigh.  Ms. Tarpley gave me an F.

"Why the F?", I asked, scratching my head.

She responded, "You gave a report on a book written by an Englishman, not an American".   

"But," I protested, "Sir Walter Raleigh was as much an American as anyone was back then.  He helped found one of the earliest colonies."

She picked up a book and held it out.  "If you want to change your grade, read this and give me a report."  The book she handed me was "Walden" by Henry David Thoreau.

I looked at her quizzically, and she said, "It's one of the classics".

One of the classics?  My limited experience with the classics included the Classics comicbooks so popular in the 'fifties, some of Edgar Allen Poe's writings ("The Raven", "The Tale-Tell Heart", etc.), and my paperback copy of D. H. Lawrence's banned book "Lady Chatterly's Lover" with the pages containing the good parts dog-eared.   

I entered "Walden" in a high state of righteous indignation, convinced as I was of the correctness of my argument for the Americanization of Sir Walter Raleigh.  However, about twenty or so pages into the book, I experienced the beginnings of an attitude adjustment, culminating in a yearning for more when I had finished my reading.         

I don't remember the grade I received on my book report, but I do have Ms. Tarpley to thank for creating a desire within me for the works of Hemmingway, Steinbeck, James Joyce, Jack London, Irving Stone, Mitchener, Leon Uris, Ken Follett, Michael Crighton, Stephen King, and the writings by countless other authors, particularly of those works detailing a history of the American Civil War.  

... Jim Edwards

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What I recall about Miss Carter is that she believed that poor readers improved by reading out loud, a lot!  The poorest readers read Hamlet to
us.  I read a library book!!!  I know absolutely nothing about Hamlet to this day!  The other English teachers, all experienced, were so good and
she so inexperienced. 

...Vicky