In a previous century I was a student at the North Ward Elementary complex in De Leon, and since it was to the north of the railroad tracks it was not held in high regard by some who trod downtown streets.

The ramrod at North Ward was Miss Della Wall, and she could stare a blue norther into retreat.  She was armed with a slat paddle, checker boarded with Swiss cheese ventilation, to allow robust sessions of corrective behavior of mutineers, in a soundproof coatroom that was always ready and waiting.

Mr. C.G. Morton was her able assistant in maintaining law and order, but he did not operate a fannie fan.  His armament was a six-foot, bar ditch length, of wild cane, which came in handy when errant eyes strayed to the windows with glass and an outdoor view of the free world.

One incentive she granted in those hallowed halls Eraser Dusting Duty, and it was earned by a boy and a girl team who got a 15-minute safari to the stand of oak trees that festooned the southeast corner of the schoolyard—within full view of Della Wall.

Nowadays, menial work of that nature could possibly qualify as punishment, but we students vied for the honor.  I guess, in retrospect, that the old maxim that “If you don’t get what you want—then want what you get.”

We had eight grades at North Ward and no two dusting crews were allowed duty at the same time.  That way shy boys and girls might actually talk to one another as the eraser dust wafted away on the breeze.  It was as near to a date as you could get in the century that has come and gone.

At the west end of the schoolyard the oak tree growth was denser and during the lunch hour it drew a goodly number—mostly boys—for a spirited cow patty confrontation.  Area residents staked their milk cows thereupon and the bovines left their calling cards behind for warriors.

Green uncured specimens were verboten and when classes resumed, Miss Wall inspected each and everyone who filed back to the indoors.  The coatroom awaited the too exuberant flingers of cow patties and lamentations echoed from that location.  Not only a “Bustin” awaited, but eraser dusting privileges were denied to the convicted for a month.  The old double whammy was alive and operative.

C.G. Morton could maneuver his cane pole to free outcroppings of cow droppings from the shaggiest heads in the free world, and he thoroughly enjoyed plying his trade.

There were few homes without coal oil lamps, radios were as rare as unicorns and pennies were hoarded and saved for a Saturday trip to the Liberty Theater.

Sometimes when I hole up in my home over in Poverty Sink and recall the journey I traveled to get there, it’s hard to believe that I am a time traveler.

Let me hear from you.

My phone number is 254-893-5063.

My postal address is 333 W. Ayers, De Leon TX 76444.

You can e-mail me at Charles@CharlesChupp.com.

By Charles Chupp, Copyright ©2008 Charles Chupp