School Days

by Ed Nelson

  Chapter 38

  Christmas morning was pleasant. We kids were getting almost civilized in our present opening. Other years it was rip packages open as fast as you could. Now we sat in the living room and opened one package at a time working in a circle. Each present would be opened and displayed for all to see.

  This was probably Mary’s last year with Santa, so we all pretended. There was something a little sad about it. My baby sister was growing up though that process had been going on for a while.

  I would never forget the day when she was three years old and she had a fight about the color of a dress with Mum at J C Penney. She wanted royal blue not the yellow one. Maybe women were born that way.

  After a light lunch we played games most of the afternoon. Then I spent more time typing out the Shawnee letters. They were actually letters to the Shawnee. They were in what is called copperplate writing.

  They looked machine printed but were hand written. The practice that must have taken! I liked my IBM more and more. At first it was hard to read but once my eyes were used to the letters I could read it like normal.

  There were nine letters in all. They all made the same empty promises. Chief Blackhoof must have spent a lot of his life in despair with how the white man was treating his people. He also was smart enough to know that those of his people who didn’t adapt to the new culture were doomed. Even those that did had the issues of alcohol and disease to face.

  I don’t know if it is true or not, but I read that the European practice of mixing water with beer and wine had given them over time a genetic defense against extreme alcohol abuse in many cases.

  Defense against disease was built up the hard way. Those that didn’t die passed along an improved immune system. The Indians would take the same hundreds or thousands of years the Europeans did to develop immunities.

  Dinner was again a light meal. The entire family played monopoly after dinner. Mum and Mary devastated us. They landed on Park Place the first round and Boardwalk the second.

  We guys fought gamely, trading each other to get sets and buying houses and hotels as fast as we could. It was to no avail. The female Jackson Housing Empire took us down.

  We teased Mary about her running our real housing business. She told us she would do it if we boys would clean all the new houses. That girl is going places.

  I read more about my sailor hero that night. It is hard to imagine electing a life at sea knowing that you would be seasick at the beginning of every voyage. As bad as my ability to sing was, at least I wasn’t tone deaf. I could recognize our national anthem when I heard it.

  The weather had turned to a freezing rain on Boxing Day. This is the day after Christmas. In England in the old days this was a Christmas box with a tip or present given to those tradesmen who served the family.

  Mum told us that in England that was when they held the large mounted fox hunts. She said they were a lot of fun but could be very dangerous. She didn’t answer me when I asked her if she had ever ridden in one.

  I finally was so bored I finished up sewing on all the badges on my new scout uniforms. I met an English scout at a camporee once. He told me that we Americans wore so many badges on our uniforms we looked like Christmas trees.

  After all of the sewing I had to agree with him. My fingers were so sore. I tried using Mum’s thimbles but they were too small.

  Denny spent time with me updating patches on his uniform. He was now a patrol leader and had just made first class so he had to put the patches on his shirt. I must say my stitches were neater than his. I told him that and he got mad and told Mum what I said.

  For some reason she did nothing but laugh. Her two teenage sons were arguing about whose stitches were neater! After I thought about it I had to agree it was funny. I hoped John Wayne never heard of this.

  Friday was a quiet day at home. For kicks we kids spoke Spanish all day long. We were actually able to hold conversations. Mary did get us boys to attend a tea party to welcome her doll to the family. I doubted if the dolls would be around next year. How many accessories could they come up with for a doll?

  I had finished the Shawnee papers, as I took to calling them. I went ahead and typed two more clean sets. I would keep these and use as needed. Friday afternoon Dad and I had been invited to a meeting of the Logan County Historical Society.

  It was an officers meeting not a full meeting of the Society. Dad had made the phone calls to tell them of the proposed donations. They had invited Dad, but since I knew the most about the micro-fiche project for the old newspapers he asked me to attend.

  It was an informal group, the only person I knew there was Mrs. Rupert. The Chairman Mr. Piatt told everyone that Dad had called and wanted to make a donation to the Society. He asked Dad to explain what he had in mind.

  Dad told them as part of a purchase from the Radford estate he had ended up with the Manary Blockhouse. He would like to make that a charitable donation along with the funds to set it in place where ever the Society designated within the county.

  As Dad put it, “I don’t want to see it set up in Hawaii though the dedication would be fun to attend.”

  Dad then asked me to tell them what we would like to donate for the micro-fiche project. It was simple we would pay the immediate two thousand dollars to micro-fiche the existing papers. Then pledge two hundred dollars a year for the indefinite future to keep the collection up to date.

  I explained that Mrs. Rupert had shown me the old papers and their condition. The papers had helped me in several projects and I would like to keep them available for future generations. I gave no hint as to what the projects may have been.

  Of course they were very happy to receive the donations. It was understood that the Jackson family would be getting nice tax write offs from this effort. Since most of the officers were businessmen they spoke highly of Dad doing it this way.

  One of the members whose name I didn’t catch asked him how he had made any sort of a deal with Mrs. Radford. Dad didn’t really answer the question. She has quite the local reputation!

  At that point we decided to quit while we were ahead and quietly left. As we were leaving they were starting to argue about the best site for the Blockhouse.

  On the way home with me driving Dad and I talked about the group.

  He said, “They are going to have a hard time picking a site for the Blockhouse. Can you imagine what it would have been like if they got their hands on Blackhoof’s papers and medals?”

  “It would have taken them years to figure it out. If nothing else they have nowhere to display them. I still think we are doing the right thing.”

  “The State might provide funds but most likely they would have ended up in Columbus in their big building there or built a new museum in St. Johns or Wapakoneta.”

  I was feeling more comfortable driving all the time. I had done everything except parallel parking. That didn’t look like it would be too hard. I knew better from all the comments made by the older kids at school but had a hard time accepting it.

  Chapter 39

  Saturday morning I found out how hard parallel parking could be. Dad had me drive him down to the office. I had to park right in front of the store. I made it, let’s leave it at that. I would need some more practice. Like a bunch more before I was comfortable. If I wasn’t used to the stick shift it would have been really bad.

  Dad had about an hour’s work to do at the office, so I waited for him. Having nothing better to do I retrieved a flashlight out of the trunk of the car or boot as Mum would say and went to the basement. Now Dad had been down there, but it was just a quick check for leaks and other problems.

  The place was bone dry. It was also pretty spooky for some reason. I found out that I didn’t need the flashlight as there were plenty of lights. Once those were on the place wasn’t spooky anymore.

  It was several rooms connected together. You could see where a coal furnace had been removed. There was now a modern gas unit near the stairs. Another roo
m used to be the coal bin. It looked like the coal chute door had been boarded over.

  I looked everywhere I could. I had visions of the Pit and the hidden compartment in the blockhouse, but I found nothing. Well almost nothing. There was a cigar display case. It had five old wooden boxes of Cuban cigars in them. I checked, but the cigars in the open boxes were completely dried out. There was one box that had never been opened. There was also a fancy looking humidor box but it was empty.

  I took all the boxes upstairs and dumped the dry cigars out. I didn’t open the sealed box and assumed the cigars would all be dried out, but it was nice to have an unopened box. I would take the boxes home for our Spanish class.

  I didn’t know what we would do with them but they were cool looking. These were all made from cedar not cheap cardboard. They all had a picture of Teddy Roosevelt leading the Rough Riders.

  The humidor looked like it might have some value. A metal tag on the bottom said, “Benson & Hedges Copper & Brass Campaign Chest Humidor.” If nothing else it would make a nice box to keep papers in.

  After Dad was finished at the office we checked out a duplex our company had just bought. It was in pretty good shape. Dad and I manhandled a sofa to the curb that someone had left. Other than that it could all be carried by one person. We were getting good at cleaning these places out.

  I checked out the attics and basements of both units, but they were pretty clear. There were the usual odds and ends of old tools and canned goods in the basement. The attics typically contained busted window screens. I don’t understand why people kept them but they did.

  Dad checked all the windows. Two had problems being raised. In both cases the ropes for the sash weights had rotted. These were a simple replacement. This occurred so frequently in older houses that we had extra rope, actually cotton clothes line, at home.

  We decided to bring boxes back tomorrow and carry all the junk to the curb then. Denny and I would do that while Dad repaired the windows. He would then schedule an extra trash pickup by the city. After the place was cleaned out we would paint the interiors next week.

  As we worked Dad gave me a brief update on the housing business. As of last week we had twelve units rented out, so had exceeded the original goals. The rents were paying the mortgages, adding to reserve funds and still leaving enough left over for the family to take out one hundred dollars a week. Right now in Bellefontaine the average wage was forty dollars a week, so we were doing all right.

  Dad had offers in on four more units and had hopes for at least three of them. The owners of the fourth one had unrealistic price expectations. It was part of an inheritance and the owners lived out of state, so they didn’t know local conditions. They didn’t understand that houses in Bellefontaine weren’t worth as much as in California.

  Our business was now a member of the Chamber of Commerce and the Better Business Bureau. With a family membership at the country club we were becoming known as prominent local citizens. Dad and I thought that was funny. We were just us. Not that long ago Dad had been working on the railroad extra board hoping to get called for work.

  We also talked about what we would do with the boathouse. It was really too big for just one boat, but not big enough for more than twenty so it wouldn’t be useful for a boat storage business.

  The structure itself was solid. It was a brick building on a concrete foundation. Why it was built on an island I will never know. Anything of size and weight had to be barged over.

  About the only thing it was good for was as a marine repair center. The only problem with that was the competition had buildings on land which their customers could drive to.

  Dad told me, “That building was put up in 1906. Brice Radford bought it around 1938 so he wouldn’t have known why it was put there or what is was intended for. When it was built there was nothing else on the island. They probably meant to expand but it didn’t work out.”

  Today there were four cottages on the island. They were all in disrepair and hadn’t been used in years. Indian Lake had really gone downhill since the war.

  “Dad, I wonder who owns those cottages?”

  “I have no idea Rick, why are you asking?”

  “It would be neat to own the whole island.”

  “It would, wouldn’t it,” Dad mused.

  He went on to say, “I will check on whom the owners are at the Russells Point City office. Who knows, we may end up with a private island.”

  We continued cleaning out the duplexes. The time went fast as I day dreamed of a private island, pretty girls and nude sun bathing. I wonder what nude girls look like?

  We finished up and headed home. The youth center was open tonight so I decided to go there. I dressed casual in khaki, white shirt and sweater. It was not too bad of a walk downtown.

  I had told Mum I would call a cab if it was raining when it was time to come home. The center was only open until ten o’clock, so I wouldn’t be out late.

  The place was crowded when I arrived. There wasn’t much to do in the winter. One could go to the movie, bowling alley or up to the Lake and roller skate. If the weather permitted ice skating. Unfortunately it wasn’t frozen right now. So here we all were out of school and bored on a Saturday night.

  I looked around, but Cheryl wasn’t there. I should have called her and seen what her plans were. Tom and Tracy were there so I stopped over to say hi. Tom asked where Cheryl was. Apparently he thought we were a couple.

  Tracy spoke up and said, “She is at Linda Spiller’s pajama party.”

  This was news to me. Not that it mattered. We sat and discussed who was going with whom. Tracy wanted to know if I really liked Cheryl. That question appeared to be innocent but I must have had the deer in a headlight look because she started laughing at me.

  “Yes I like her, she is a pretty girl with a nice personality,” I replied with a little exasperation in my voice.

  “I would like to date her, but I’m not ready to go steady. If you remember I will be leaving town at the end of January for that movie.”

  Tracy took on a slightly distant look. You could see the whole social order of the school being reviewed as she figured out the effect of me being gone. It was like that Univac computer with all those punch cards being sorted.

  Apparently my being gone wasn’t going to cause social devastation because she quickly smiled and said, “That won’t be a problem since you can’t go to the Prom.”

  I had just gained a valuable insight into the workings of high school society! Start with the Prom as the focal point and work everything backwards from there. Hey this is easy!

  Then Tracy mused, “Then there is Easter Break and St. Valentine’s Day...hmm.”

  Well maybe not so easy.

  Later that night my not so young sailor was an Admiral in the West Indies. He had fame, fortune and the pretty girl but was still insecure. He always acted as if the devil was at his heels. Maybe that is why he had fame, fortune and the pretty girl.

  Sunday after church we went over to the new rental units and cleaned them out as planned. Church was easy after Christmas Eve. Compared to that evening the place was empty. We attended services and even were able to sit down.

  At one point we had to stand as we were introduced as new members. After Church people came up to us and welcomed us to the parish. I was invited to the youth group that evening.

  I attended the youth group. It was in the basement of the church. They attempted to have discussion on teenage problems. They didn’t get too far. We were lectured on various practices.

  I really wasn’t concerned about growing hair on the palm of my hand. I wasn’t certain that I would be a regular member of the group. I knew all the kids there,but not well.

  Later that night I had finished rereading all twelve books of my English sailors life and times. I thought it would be neat if they were all rewritten for a space navy in the future. They would be fun.

  Chapter 40

  Monday was a day of slush. It had warmed up
enough that everything was melting. Mum had breakfast ready and had an announcement for Dad.

  “I have been to J C Penney, Sears, Uhlman’s and Montgomery Wards. I haven’t been able to find a dress for New Year’s Eve. We are going to Columbus.”

  “Rick, you will be in charge here for the day. Mary can go with us as she does not mind shopping unlike some I could name.”

  When Mum is in this type of mood, one says, “Yes ma’am.” There was no discussion here, just marching orders.

  It took them about an hour and a half but Mum, Dad and Mary were on their way. That left Denny, Eddie and me. I wondered what we would do for the day.

  Denny spoke up, “Let’s go hunting!”

  I thought about it for almost a heartbeat. I could imagine us out with shotguns. Eddie had never been out in the field. I swear my life flashed before my eyes.

  “I don’t think so. It’s too nasty out.”

  Wet they would understand, logic never.

  “It’s early yet. Let’s watch cartoons on TV for a while.”

  “Captain Kangaroo is still on. Maybe they will have Rocky and Bullwinkle today.”

  “Yeah, it would be neat if they had Boris and Natasha,” Eddie said as the thundering herd moved to the living room.

  Well that bought me half an hour or so. It was more like an hour but then they were back, “I’m bored,” from Denny and “What are we going to do,” whined Eddie.

  “We could walk down to the library; see if any new books are in, then I will buy lunch at Don’s.”

  Lunch at Don’s interested them. We put on our jackets and headed out. When we got to the library they didn’t have any new books set out. I did have one bright idea. I took them down to the basement and showed them the old newspapers. That proved to be a life saver. Denny liked the old advertisements and Eddie the comics.

  Eddie started at nineteen thirty four and started reading every Terry and the Pirates ever released. He also liked Mandrake the Magician which started the same year. He didn’t go back to nineteen twenty four for Little Orphan Annie.