School Bus Drama

I have a hate relationship with the big yellow machines. It seems they are designed to get me in trouble. That is what I chose to believe. My bad relationship started and ended at Albany Grade School, although I secretly retained the certification to drive bus well after I became a principal.

It all started over basketball. Albany Grade School served the junior high (grades 5-8) students from two buildings (Albany and Garden Plain), both which had a gym. We had two levels of basketball, so to allow both levels to practice after school, the coach for one of the teams had to drive the students to the other gym. Coaching the younger students meant I had to drive bus.

My first basketball team 1973-74

I never wanted to be a bus driver. Even though we could have used the extra money, I did not want to turn my back on students and be responsible for their safety. Because I had driven vehicles on the farm from an early age I could handle the big machine, but I feared the prospect of young children, narrow farm roads and driveways.

When I agreed to coach, I took the bus driver training with the provision I would not have to drive a route. My only driving would be my basketball team. I would be an emergency backup route driver only if no driver was available. I told my principal that was what I was willing to do. Since my buddy and fellow coach, Gerry, was already a backup driver, and we only had two busses, I felt bus route driving was a distant possibly.

From the very beginning, the bus problems began. My very first practice was scheduled for the day of parent conferences. My bus was the spare bus. It was the oldest, poorest maintained of the fleet. It was parked facing the building to shelter it from wind and allow the block heater to be plugged in. This meant backing away from the building with a bus full of basketball players.

The day of parent conferences the parking lot was packed. Practice would begin later, well after dark. One of the parents’ cars parked directly behind the bus. With the poor lighting, I couldn’t see the car in the mirrors. Yep, I hit it.

Since I wasn’t on a road, I didn’t call the police. I got the parent from the building, got her information, and proceeded to practice, totally embarrassed. My players could tell I was upset, and one of them started a cheer to let me know they supported me. It was a nice gesture, but I had really screwed up. By the way, the parent was the wife of the editor of the local newspaper, but I don’t think the story made the paper.

A few days later, the business manager called my principal demanding to know what happened. The business manager was never my favorite person. I saw him as humorless and a constant critic who squeezed every nickel. He had an insurance claim, but no police report. He was all over me for failure to report the accident. He claimed I was in trouble for leaving the scene of an accident. Fortunately I never got in legal trouble or got a ticket. However it was, School Bus 1, Rick 0.

Bad Relationship #2 and #3

The next few bus issues were all related to basketball trips. Although I did not want to drive, Gerry insisted that I share the drive to and from games with him. We were paid for this, and I think he knew I needed the money. Since it wasn’t a bus route and it was with the players we coached,  I agreed to drive home after the games.

One game was in Thomson which was about 15 miles north of Albany. The game was right after school, rather than the evening start of most of our games. This meant it was after sunset, but still partially daylight when the last game ended.

With the teams all loaded, I started out of town. Before we reached the end of town, a police car pulled behind us and turned on his lights. I pulled over and stopped. He came to the door, and I figured I was in trouble with about 40 young witnesses.

The officer explained I had failed to turn on the running lights. I didn’t get a ticket or even a written warning, but it was still School Bus 2, Rick 0.

In the 70’s, the 55 mph speed limit was imposed by the government to try and save oil after the big embargo. On a Friday night trip to Clystic, I had to drive to the game while Gerry figured out how to get there. It was a long way in the country and all the driving was after dark.

The following Monday, I was called to the principal’s office. The business manager was on the phone, complaining that he had followed our bus on Friday. He said we were driving 70 mph in violation of the law and risking the safety of the students.

I was angry that he would make such statements and said I would not risk the safety of the students. He said he was driving a new Cadillac and that the speedometer had to be accurate and I was wrong. I could only claim innocence. It was only later that I found the bus had a speed governor on it and it couldn’t go over 55. So his speedometer was wrong, but it was still School Bus 3, Rick 0.

Last Straw published next week.

School is a prison...not even close.

Did you ever say this about your principal “He runs this place like a prison!” or “He treats us like prisoners!”?

One little known fact is that I actually know how to do that, because I worked in a prison. It all started because of an effort to make the military draft more fair.

In December, 1969, the first modern draft lottery was held. Every male aged 18-35 was included. In that first lottery were the birthdates of all of us men, including three (3) men would eventually become president. Only one of the three would serve anytime in the military.

My December 9 birthday has always been disappointing. I was born too late to do anything with my classmates taking driver's ed. my junior year.. Born within three weeks of Christmas, and with five (5) younger siblings, the dreaded combination birthday-Christmas present was my curse. Being born in December was no fun. The lottery insured that it would continue as “No Funember”.

December birth dates were drawn for the first lottery at a high rate. Twenty (20) of the thirty one(31) dates were lower than the highest number drafted (195). That is, being born in December was bad luck. This was the first drawing I ever “won”. My number was 43.

I was notified of my reclassification and given the opportunity to appear before the draft board to appeal. I was a teacher in a county where “no teacher has ever been drafted out of this county”. I appealed.

Included in my appeal were letters from my principal, superintendent, a local pastor of a church I didn’t attend, etc. The hearing was scheduled for summer. My principal, superintendent and business manager all drove me to the session with my draft board. When I saw my file it appeared to be about 3 inches thick.

My superintendent praised my teaching. He said they usually didn’t try to keep teachers hired just before school started, but they needed me. It was all very flattering. The only response from the draft board president was “He’s had his deferment” meaning I wasn’t getting another. On the drive home my superintendent commented he had never seen such a “bunch of hard asses” I agreed.

In February, 1971, I got my “Greetings” letter. Induction was to be immediate. Attached to the notice was a note that they would allow me to complete the school year. In May, I got my final notice to appear on June 17.

Since my born spur was not recognized until much later, I passed my physical, and was shipped off to Ft. Lewis Washington for basic training. Two months later I was selected to train as a Military Policeman (MP) and shipped to Ft. Gordon GA, along with a bunch of other teachers who had been drafted. One of them was a teacher whose father was chair of the Whiteside County Republican party. So much for “Never having a teacher drafted…”

After a brief time on traffic patrol and guard duty, I was transferred to the Southeast Central Stockade, the military prison located at my post, Ft. Gordon, GA. We collected prisoners from all branches of the military from anywhere in the southern states. We had murders, rapists, drug dealers and robbers. They were in maximum security along with any severely mentally ill prisoners.

 Most of the prisoners were guys who enlisted and decided they didn't want to stay in the military so they went AWOL  We held them in Medium Security. I would spend the rest of time in the army working in the prison. Fortunately I worked in the administrative office. Eventually through a series of promotions, I moved from the  lowest rank to the highest and was in charge of the administrative section, but that’s another story.

I never let students know that I had worked in a prison before becoming a principal. I thought it might confirm the belief that I was running a prison instead of a school.

Headlights!!!

These days I play Cootie with my granddaughters. I used to play more seriously.

HEADLIGHTS!!!

Well that is what my son and daughter originally thought I was saying when I told them about my day.

I wish I could say I never had to deal with head lice, but the reality is it is part of being an elementary principal. You see, when you are the elementary principal, you are the only backup for the school nurse. You usually only see the nurse a day or two each week, if you are lucky. Rarely is the nurse assigned to your school on the day you need to “check heads”.

High School principals never really understand the elementary principal. With multiple assistant administrators, layers of administrative support including, secretaries, hall monitors, lead teachers, a counseling department, resource officer and a full time nurse, they don’t understand why elementary principals can get so stressed. After all, they think all we do is wipe noses.

Why did I hate the day after vacation? Head lice. Why did it hate to see baseball, softball begin? head lice. Why did I have to transport kids home in my car? head lice. Why did I stop and itch my head while typing this?…you guess.

The protocol for controlling head lice, was to check everyone who had contact with a student when the little creatures are discovered. This meant checking all of the siblings, all of the class members, and if the sibling had evidence of lice, you checked that class too.

While all of this checking was going on, education was not going on. The class usually had to wait in the hall outside of the nurse’s office. After so much lost time, teachers started having their students bring books to read. I called it "Reading by the Lice Light". Each student was checked under an intense light which sent the little bugs scurrying. The bright light also revealed the translucent eggs (nits) attached to the hair shaft in the warmer part of the head (base of neck and around the ears).

Why do I know all of this? I didn’t before I became an elementary principal. I would bet most high school principals have no idea. Scratched my head again. When the nurse was not available, I had to check.  In order to become "trained" the nurse ran a little clinic for me. Of course the training included a student who had a few of the critters re-arranging their hairstyle. What fun!

After infected students were located, they had to go home and be treated with lice killing shampoo. Their clothes were to be cleaned and dried at high temperature. All of their bedding, and toys were also to be cleaned.That which couldn’t be washed was to be sprayed and vacuumed. It is a long arduous process. Removing nits is difficult and painful for the child and frustrating for the parent.  This "nit picking" was not about someone being fussy.  

Readmission to school required another head check and proof of treatment even though nits remained. Frankly most parents won’t do all the cleaning if they experience head lice more than once. I addition, they get really angry if their children get it again. Guess how I know that!

Maybe I should write a song or two about my experience? One song could be "You Lice Up My Life".  Nope, not funny even 20+ years later.

In a neighborhood where nearly everyone worked or had little or no transportation, the task of transporting infested students fell to the principal. The students I transported sat in the same seat that my son and daughter sat in whenever I took them someplace.

To protect my family, I placed garbage bags on the back seat and covered the entire seat. When I returned to school, the garbage bags were removed and discarded. Fortunately my kids never picked up the little critters from my car. 

However, they did squirm whenever I told them we had headlights today!

The best friends a person can have

I have been lucky in my life. As written earlier, serendipity has ruled a great deal of my good fortune. Perhaps one of the most important was the time I spent with Gerry and Linda Kreuder while in Albany IL.

I first met Gerry the day I was hired to teach. He had been painting the goal posts on the playground along with Denny Woods. I have to admit I thought he was pretty weird. This was 1969, the end of the decade of protests, hippies, and long hair. Gerry had a short flattop haircut, weighed about 100 lbs soaking wet and he was covered in paint. I think he got some on the goal posts, but you couldn’t prove it by the way he looked.

When I got home, I told Connie I was a teacher, and had met this strange little guy who was also a teacher. I had no idea that he would become a lifelong friend to me and to everyone he would meet.

Many times I have witnessed Gerry walk into a room, reception area, restaurant or bar, and find out something about everyone he encountered. Before he leaves a place he will have made a connection with everyone who will talk to him, and, with his booming voice, you cannot avoid doing that.

He and Linda are dedicated to the service of others. I often thought of them as the king and queen of Albany. Linda was in junior women’s Club, served on the newly formed library board, served on the park board, taught Sunday school etc, etc. Gerry was president of the Fire Department, was one of the founding members of the Albany Lions Club, managed the park facilities, etc. etc. They did all of this while working full time, having three kids, attending more basketball and football games than anyone can count and doing so many other things I that would make me exhausted to write about.

They have not been as fortunate with health issues. Between the two of them and their three kids, they have spent more time in Iowa City than Herky, the Hawk. Not to make light of their struggles, but I believe the University of Iowa is planning a wing for them I believe the hang-up is they have visited so many departments, the university is not sure which should receive the honor.

We had been through a great deal together. We have enjoyed many good times after basketball games. All of the staff attending were invited to Kreuders for pizza and beer. It was a terrific way to finish the night. The trip to the state basketball tournament was another tradition that was always a good time.

Gerry had a painting business that kept me employed for several summers. We painted more than a few houses and some barns. We usually got more paint on the building than ourselves, but it was close. I used to kid him that he found his ladders in the junkyard. I think they were held together with spilled paint.

We have been through some tragic times. Gerry and Linda were there when my father died. It was the first week of my coaching career. We have attended many funerals of former students, parents, and colleagues. The trips to Iowa City often included me.

They continue to provide for others. They will often be seen in the company of one or more of their grandkids. Although they are both officially retired they remain active in their new community. They stay connected with friends and Gerry’s former students, all who have a nickname.The nicknames have become generational, passed down from parent to child by Gerry. My son, Scott, is known by Gerry as “Milt”, Gerry’s favorite nickname for me. Gerry gave me the nickname when our former part-time employer, named Milt, died. I can’t explain it either.

We have spent so much special time together it is difficult to find only one of two to describe. Let me leave it that my life would be so much less without them in it. In short, our lives were completely entangled during the time we lived in Albany. I was sad to leave them, but I had to leave to pursue my goal of becoming a principal.

 I join them, and the many friends they have back along the Mississippi in congratulating them on fifty years of marriage.

Trees are Bushwhacked at Albany Grade School

When I started teaching the environmental movement was in its early stages. It evolved from earlier efforts to reduce air and water pollution and conserve the environment. The first Earth Day occurred in April 1970, the first spring I was a teacher.

One earlier push by the federal government was soil conservation, a result of the disastrous dust bowl era in the 1930’s. The Department of the Interior provided funds and resources to plant wind and water breaks to reduce erosion. Lady Bird Johnson wanted to improve natural beauty and encouraged everyone to “plant a tree, a shrub, or a bush”. All of this provided a basis for Earth Day.

Albany Grade School was built on a former farm. The acreage was quite large for a school ground, with a nearly football sized acreage on one side, and a large playground and room for a baseball field on the other. There were also about 10 acres that were still being farmed.

Because the school was only one year old, and had been farmed before construction, the superintendent found that the playground areas could be considered as idle farmland. The federal government pays to idle farm ground if it was farmed in the prior five years.. It is called the “Soil Bank” and he put Albany Grade School in to it. That is, the district was paid not to farm the playground. Pretty clever, huh?

I asked for permission to start an environmental area to be used for study on the school grounds. I planned to use the area beyond the football field for part of it, as well the hillside that was not being farmed. I wanted to plant a wildlife attraction area along the side of the football field.

I received information on free seedlings that were provided. Included were Norway spruce,red and white pine trees and autumn olive. Only white pines are native to Illinois, and now autumn olive is considered an invasive species. Back then the autumn olive was to attract song birds. The pines were to act as a wind break.

When the plants arrived, we scheduled a day for planting. The students were to provide the labor and I was to indicate the layout. As a kid on the farm, I couldn't line up a fence line. I did not have any better luck on planting day. The autumn olive bushes along the football field  didn’t really follow anything. Connie and the students and I put two rows of trees alongside the bushes.

The autumn olive was large enough to be seen, but the pine saplings were less than a foot tall. We used wood lath to mark the locations. In addition to the football field line, we planted several trees outside of the end zone and a couple on the hillside. We planted over one hundred (100) trees that day.

The trees then encountered Archie. As the custodian, he had responsibility for mowing the school grounds. I don’t think Archie enjoyed this task, as he frequently wouldn’t do it. Our grass areas were often quite long and covered with dandelions. On one occasion it took a complaint from a school board member to get the area mowed.

I believe he had one goal when mowing, and  that was to get out of the sun as soon as possible. The mowing tractor was quite large, had a loader on the front, and pulled a large “bushhog” mower.

Whatever the reason, difficulty seeing, difficulty steering, or just plain carelessness, all of the pine trees along the football field, along with their wood stakes, were mowed down the first year. Most of the soon to be overgrown, and ugly, autumn olive bushes survived. The only pine trees to survive were two in the end zone and one on the hillside. 

The next year, after suffering through the afternoon sun beating into my science classroom, I started another planting. Not wanting to use hard to see saplings, the students and I dug volunteer maple trees out the ditches near the school. The saplings were 4-5 ft tall, easy to see. We planted them right next to the building by my room, which faced southwest. In a few years, while I was still teaching, they were to provide shade. . We also planted several in the end zone “outdoor classroom” and on the hill.

The PTO thought trees were a good idea, and planted trees along the southwest side of the rest of the building a year later. Unfortunately there was a sidewalk along the area, so the trees were pretty far away from the building. Eventually the trees provided shade, but it took about ten years.

I never developed the outdoor classroom. We did some minor projects, but I did not have the resources to get more done. However, the ecology movement led to establishment of an “Eco Center” staffed by trained teachers and funded with federal dollars.

The Eco Center provided many outstanding programs while I was at Albany. We regularly took students on field trips in differing environments. Each trip involved studying plants, animals, and their environment. Probably the most fun, was the winter trip where students got to cross country ski and tube down the hills at Mississippi Palisades State Park in Savanna, IL. Gerry was active in the program and was named Whiteside County Environmental Teacher of the Year. A year later, I received the same honor, probably because Gerry nominated me.

Environmental science became a fundamental program at all universities. The consensus to save the environment came from all parts of society. The Clean Air Act of 1970, and Clean Water Act of 1972 had a tremendous impact. City air became breathable again. River and lakes became cleaner.

It is unfortunate that the environment has become “political” and that regulations that protected us all are being disassembled. Like our pine trees,  they are being mowed down in less than a year.

Slip Slidin’ Away, in the Albany Grade School Gym

When I started teaching, the Albany Grade School gym was in another building. To conduct boys PE classes, my buddy, Gerry, had to walk the boys across the large field to the old building. This was also where basketball games were played. In addition, he had to double up his social studies classes to allow time to teach PE. I believe his 7th grade class had 48 students.

Obviously, this was not a great arrangement. The main building was only a year old. It was approved when the  Cordova Nuclear Power plant was  under construction and located within the boundaries of the elementary school district. The gym was left off construction, in order to make sure a quality building with well-equipped classrooms was built. The resulting gym-less building was indeed a quality school. However, the lack of a gym needed correction.

When I arrived, the neighboring district had formed a unit district which included all the area served by its high school. This included the power plant still under construction. Having lost a huge amount of tax base, any gym construction would be based on farm and home property taxes. The business manager was quite conservative (re a tightwad) and he reluctantly agreed to have a gym attached to the school.

During my second year, construction was begun. The good thing was Gerry was able to teach social studies full time and with much smaller classes.The goal was to have the gym open after winter break. Thus began the construction of the very poor quality gym at Albany Grade School. Every shortcut was taken to keep the price down. Instead of brick exterior, the exterior was to be painted cinder block.

The showers in the locker room were so low, even the shortest junior high student had to crouch to use them. The only storage was on top of the locker rooms, but no stairs were built to reach the area. For the first year, a ladder was left leaning against the wall.

To save cost on basketball backboards, the old metal ones were moved from the other gym. Because of the gym floor configuration, these had to hang from the ceiling rather than be attached to the walls.

To attach the backboards, the principal had the local blacksmith (yes we had one in 1970), construct a pipe frame of his design. Volunteers installed these over winter break. Unfortunately there was no provision to add tension to the backboards. A ball hitting them would have its energy absorbed and the ball would not have a true bounce. The result was  just a thud as the ball hit.

With all of these shortcomings, the two worst were the ceiling and the floor. The ceiling was  sheet-rock, with no acoustic tile. The echo in the gym was deafening. High pitched voices from primary students would pierce one’s ears like a dagger. The PE teachers had to wear earplugs. 

On the night of the first home basketball game, the parents were in agony at the echoing sound. Everyone likely left with ringing in their ears. They were not happy.

The floor was tile, not wood as was standard for junior high age students. The length of the floor was so small, the 10 second line for basketball was drawn on both sides of the center jump circle to make enough space to play.

The worst hazard appeared unexpectedly one warm game night in January. The  tile floor gradually started to become very slick. Players could barely walk slowly on the floor let alone run. Running basketball players would, without warning,  lose their footing and fall down or slide into the wall or bleachers. 

The cause of the danger was moisture. A northwest door emptied directly outside instead of the normal two door entry system. Cold air could easily maneuver under the door. On foggy nights, moisture condensed on the floor beginning near the doorway. As the night got cooler, the moisture would appear further onto the basketball floor. Albany was a river town and foggy nights were common.

Parent and staff complaints eventually convinced the business manager to authorize retro fit to the ceiling. Acoustical tile was glued over the sheet-rock over spring break. The only solution to the floor moisture was to place a towel on the floor by the door to cut down on cool air entering and absorb moisture. It did not solve the problem.

While I was in the army, a wall was placed above the locker room and metal stairs were purchased. At least one had access to storage.

Gerry was amazing at raising funds, and eventually acquired glass backboards for the gym, and this solved the rebound problem He also added a display for the players’ names, donated in memory of one of his players, and  is in the photo of the two of us above the locker rooms. Gerry's efforts made the Albany gym feel like home.

Rick and Gerry BBall coaches

Sometime after I left Albany the glued up acoustic fell. Fortunately no one was injured. A few years later, the school district closed the school and sold it to a church. It was a sad end to a building that served students so well, except of course, for the gym.

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