Column brought back memories

To the editor:

Jack Ronald’s column about my alma mater, General Shanks, was spot on and, being so, brought back an avalanche of memories I’d long forgotten.

J.R. was sure right about the fact that the old school would have been a flue in the event of a fire. Of little not, but what would have been major in consequence, was the fact the wood floors were all oil-soaked. It kept down the playground dust, ya know.

J.R. was right about the fire escapes. They were a major draw to every kid south of Main Street. Actually, there were two.

Stubby, the short one, was exited on the south side of the building between Ms. Langston’s room on the southwest corner and Ms. Howser’s room on the southeast corner.

The big one also exited on the south, but turned right (west) right away. It exited between Ms. Linton’s room and Ms. Leahey’s fourth grade class.

The big one was a drawing card, as mentioned above. Rumors were rife about the big one. The most notable of them was Ms. Linton getting stuck during a fire drill.

Ms. Linton was a jolly soul of more than ample girth, but I really doubt if she was ever stuck. The reason for my doubt was bread wrappers. Bread wrappers were made of wax paper. And the big one was always well waxed.

Playground slides were also waxed, but the big one was enclosed and the wax made it super fast on the descent.

Because of the wax, getting to the top of the big one was next to impossible. Entry was made by climbing up an impossibly slick tube. The school would never open its doors to allow every urchin on the south side a “free ride.”

Since the big one was so slick, very few made it to the top and most rides were cut short, limited to how far up a boy could climb. The best results, as far as climbing, were attained by going barefoot and pushing your back against the roof of the tub.

As for J.R.’s question about the entrance to the big one, it was, as mentioned above, in a coat hall between Ms. Linton’s fifth grade room and Ms. Leahey’s fourth grade room.

The third grade room was on the first floor on the northeast corner. The teacher was Ms. Roos, in my opinion the meanest female teacher to ever earn a license, and she always drove her 1948 Plymouth too fast.

Like J.R., I can’t recall the admission cost for the ride, but I do recall saving my 25 cents and investing it in the fish pond, held in Ms. Ray’s first grade coat hall.

Happy memories,

Larry Chittum

Portland