Even after starting school three months late that fall, I still made good grades and picked up four credits, which was normal. The following summer I did some extra studying, wrote some book reports, took tests on the work, and made three extra credits. That made seven; I needed nine more to graduate. Once in awhile a good strong student was allowed to take five subjects. My record convinced the teachers that I could do even more than five. So, with their help, we persuaded the superintendent to let me take seven subjects that second year. B-plus was the lowest grade I made that year, despite the extra load. We tried to get the superintendent to let me take all nine, but he refused. I could have made it easily, but we couldn't get his permission to let me try it.

By the end of my second year I was 21 and had 14 credits. I needed two more. I enrolled again that fall, but before I got my books, Papa told me he needed another truck driver and couldn't afford to hire one and keep me in school. So I quit school and drove a truck for him.

While I was in school I was not thought of as a "book-worm," probably because I didn't spend all that much time studying. I lettered in football that second year. I also took first place in the half-mile run, shot put, discus throwing, and something else. Would you believe it: I've forgotten what the fourth event was. Along with athletics, I also took first place in declamation.

While I was a Freshman, I was a.s.sistant editor of our school paper which rated second in the state. With all four grades competing in writing "Cla.s.s yell," "Cla.s.s song," and designing "Cla.s.s pennant," I wrote the song which won first place and designed the pennant that won first place.

We had another contest to see which cla.s.s could raise the most money to pay on the doctor bill for one of our football players. We Freshmen won that contest.

In my Junior year we had a contest to determine which cla.s.s could publish the best edition of our school paper. When it came our turn, we Juniors won first place and sold three times as many papers as any other cla.s.s. I also painted all the posters for advertising games, plays, and other school activities. And then I placed them in store windows all over town. I was allowed to take a student with me on these poster ventures. Only one requirement, he had to have an "A" rating in his grades. And I must say, looking back from where I sit today, I can easily see how my stupidity stood out in those days; I always chose boys to go with me.

We Juniors put on a play which we presented in Hamlin and in other towns nearby. We first put the play on in Hamlin at the picture show as a dress rehearsal and we charged admission. Then we presented it again a few weeks later at the same theatre and played to a full house. Then we played it at the same place a third time by popular request. The play went over so well in Hamlin, we decided to present it in other towns around. I know we played it in Rotan and I believe the other town was Anson. The name of the play was "Clarence," and I played the t.i.tle role. You may remember, Booth Tarkington was the author.

Naturally, all this publicity didn't hide me from public view. I was well known around the little town of 2,500. During that time I also worked in garages, filling stations, grocery stores, tire shops, and welding shops, besides driving a truck now and then when I was needed.

I painted all the posters for advertising the play which we put on in Hamlin and other towns around. Usually four of us Juniors went to other towns to place them in store windows. We didn't go after school; we went during school hours, and only straight "A" students could go.

One day four of us were delivering posters to Rotan-two boys and two girls. The other boy was driving and I was in the back seat with one of the girls. She was not "my" girl-just a nice respectable school girl. I don't think I even had a girl to call my own, or maybe I did. If I had one, it was one of the teachers, which was strictly against board rules, so we had to keep it secret. No student was allowed to date a teacher. Well anyway, there we were in the back seat of the car, me socially handicapped, and they having all kinds of fun teasing me about being so timid and bashful. They got a big kick out of watching the girl edge over toward me and seeing me slowly scoot away from her. I was just being cautious. How was I to know what a city girl might do to a country boy like me.

Our school athletic club was always short of money for uniforms, b.a.l.l.s, bats, and other equipment. To help make money for the club, we sold candy in one hallway at high school. I did all the buying, keeping the records, and half the selling. Another regular job for me was making whitewash and marking off the football and baseball fields.

Now you can begin to see why I didn't have to ask permission to go and come when I needed to. It would have been a waste of time. And I just didn't have all that much time to waste. I was busy. They granted me the privilege of going without asking and I was careful not to abuse that privilege. They usually knew where I was and which student I had picked to go with me. You may also be getting the idea that I could have carried nine subjects that Junior year. I did all these extras, took seven full courses, and made "B-plus" and "A" all the way.

By this time I had begun to learn a little diplomacy which I had lacked in the seventh grade. During my Freshman year-my second one, that is-Miss Packwood was in her first year of teaching. In her history cla.s.s I sat on the front row right by her desk. Four boys sat in four seats on the back row and gave her a rough time, cutting up and constantly disrupting the cla.s.s. They got so bad that she actually cried at times. The boys didn't know it but I did. She tried hard to hide her frustration and emotions. But she was at a loss to know what she should do next.

I caught those four boys out at the toilet one day and had a diplomatic conference with them. I placed myself in the group of five who were dealing our teacher misery. I pleaded to them concerning our responsibility to her. "How would we like for someone to do to our sister what we are doing to this girl?"

Well sir, the results of that little conference surprised even me. Not a single one of those boys bothered that teacher another time the rest of that year. I never told Miss Packwood what had taken place, nor did I ever mention it again to the boys. Although I had not been guilty of any of the wrongdoings, in my talk with the boys, I included myself as one of them and shared the blame in order that they might listen to my argument. I was proud of the boys for listening to me and I was proud of me for having been able to influence them, and help a friend who was in trouble.

The last year Coach Hinton was at Hamlin High, Superintendent Greene asked him to come two weeks before school started and get the football boys into training. Coach asked about pay for the two weeks. Mr. Greene seemed to think the board would be glad to pay him for his time. Then he told Mr. Hinton, "If they will not pay you, you can take your pay out of the athletic fund." Mr. Hinton came early and kept his part of the bargain.

As it turned out, the board didn't pay for the two weeks. Mr. Hinton waited and waited and they still didn't pay. He was too much of a gentleman to ask for the money. He figured perhaps they would pay him at the end of the school year, but they didn't. So he took his pay out of the athletic fund as Mr. Greene suggested. And at that point some of his so-called "best friends" turned against him, telling that he stole the money and left town. It simply wasn't true. I knew about Mr. Greene's promise. There was never any reason for anyone to doubt Mr. Hinton's honesty. He was never anything less than a gentleman.

You may have the idea that I am telling you I didn't get into trouble at school. That's just not true. However, I didn't deliberately plan it. Most of my trouble was accidental. For instance, during the Christmas holidays one year, workmen revarnished the desks in the study hall. When school reopened, the varnish was dry, but you know how fresh varnish is, even after it is dry. When you sit on it for an hour your pants sort of cling to it. Well, as I have told you, we were a poor family, and I had the pants to prove it. My pants were old and thin, but there were no holes in them when I sat down. And there was only one hole when I got up an hour later-a big one. I first suspected something was wrong when I felt a breeze. I knew it for sure when I looked down and saw the seat of my pants still clinging to the new varnish.

Needless to say, that was another time I didn't ask for permission to leave the building. I backed out the door, hurried down the stairway and ran, trying not to turn my back on anyone all the way home.

While I was a Freshman in high school, one of my jobs at home was to hitch up a team of horses each day after school, drive seven miles to the Neinda gin, load a wagon with cottonseed, drive back home and leave it for Papa to unload the next day. But then one day I didn't make my regular trip.

In school that afternoon our teacher was called from the room for a long-distance phone call. She was gone a long time, and the longer she stayed away the worse things got in our room. Long before she returned kids were throwing erasers, throwing books, running around the room, fighting, and even running out one door, down the hall, and back into the room through another door.

When the teacher returned, she caught them in the act. I say "them" because I made it a point not to do anything contrary to rules. I had special privileges I didn't want to lose. I wanted to be trusted. As a matter of fact, there were two of us who did nothing wrong-Mable Hudson and I. But the teacher didn't know that. She told us she was ashamed of everyone of us. And she kept us all in an hour after school.

That was the cause of my missing my Neinda trip and that was why Papa was not at all happy. In fact he was very unhappy. He asked why I was late. I told him I had to stay in. He asked what I had done to have to stay in. I told him, "Nothing."

He was sure I was lying, because, he said, "Teachers don't keep kids in for nothing." Then he added, "I thought I had at least one boy I could trust to behave and tell the truth."

It was too late to haul cottonseed that day. I felt I had let the family down, but through no fault of my own. Or maybe it was my fault. Maybe I should have explained to the teacher, but I didn't. Nor did I explain further to Papa. He didn't seem to be in the mood for further talk from me.

My teachers knew me pretty well. A little explaining might have done the trick. They knew I had never lied to them. On the other hand, if I had explained to the teacher, and if she had not kept me in, I would have been called "teacher's pet" and she might have wound up being hated by my cla.s.smates. I found myself in an awkward situation where I didn't know what to do nor what to say. So I kept quiet and found myself being punished by the ones who meant the most to me, my teacher and my father.

Did I turn against them because they told me they were ashamed of me? Certainly not. I understood how it looked to them. They didn't ask any further questions, and I offered no further explanation. They still trusted me and I trusted them. And I didn't lose any of my special privileges at home or at school.

Throughout my school years, the first day of April was a special day for school kids. The afternoon of April Fools' Day was a period for students to have a good time. If the teachers would not allow a fun-party that afternoon, some of the pupils, if not all of them, would run away from school. This was customary, and if most of the kids ran away, it was generally understood that there would be little or no punishment.

I was only about nine years old the first time I ran away from school on April Fools' Day. Three of us boys slipped away at noon and soon after one-o'clock we saw that we were alone. We also knew we couldn't return to school because we would be punished for being late for our one-o'clock cla.s.s.

We realized we were in trouble and would have to try to think of a way out. But first of all, we had to get farther away from the schoolhouse so the teacher wouldn't be able to find us with a search party. In fact, we ran so far away and spent such a miserable afternoon that we failed to see the other students going home from school. We had planned to join them and all arrive home at the same time. And after that-well, that was as far as a nine-year-old could plan. After that I had no idea how any good thing could happen to me.

But we were caught in our own trap. Since it was April Fools' afternoon, the teachers turned out school early. The other kids got home an hour earlier than usual. And what I got when I got home was no surprise. My biggest surprise was that I didn't get a whipping. Of course I got a good talking-to, but no whipping. That little experience taught me to be better organized next time before attempting mutiny in any form.

I believe the next time I ran away from school on April Fools' Day was when I was a Freshman in Hamlin High School. Now, it was such a long time ago I know I will not get every little detail exactly right, but for all practical purposes and intent, it happened about like this. We were well organized, to say the least.

It was April Fool's Day, one o'clock in the afternoon. We students were all seated in the study hall, each at his regularly a.s.signed desk. In the parking lot out front were two trucks and a number of automobiles, all parked orderly and aimed in the direction of the Double Mountain River.

The entire student body had been warned that the school board would not tolerate running away on the first of April. Those who did would have all their grades lowered by ten points.

When the one o'clock bell rang, the study hall teacher said, "Rise and pa.s.s to your cla.s.ses."

We stood up and pa.s.sed all right, but not to our cla.s.srooms. We marched out of the study hall and downstairs, taking a select group of teachers with us. By the time the superintendent realized what was happening, we were all loaded into our vehicles and heading for a sandy playground in the channel of the river. The kidnapped teachers gave us very little trouble. They liked it.

We were told later that three girls showed up for cla.s.s in one room. Their teacher asked, "What are you girls doing here?"

They told her they didn't want their grades to be lowered ten points.

And the teacher told them, "No one is going to knock ten points off your grades. Get on out from here and have a good time."

We were not only organized in making our get-away, we had also arranged for a little bit of entertainment by surprise. Three of us boys had made a man-size straw dummy, and while all the other students and teachers were playing in the sand down in the river, we boys secretly took our dummy up on a high cliff across the river, and there on the edge of that cliff, in plain view of the spectators below, Virgil Davis and I got into an argument which ended in a fight.

Before we took the straw dummy up on the cliff, we arranged for one boy to remain in the crowd below to call attention to our fight up on the cliff. We boxed and pushed and shoved and rolled and tumbled. Then we rolled behind some bushes to where we had the dummy hidden. And when I came back into view, I was wrestling the dummy instead of Virgil. When we rolled near the edge of the cliff, we struggled to our feet and I knocked him over the edge and he fell to the river below.

This was no big deal but it was different, and it brought a few screams from the gallery below.

By the first day of April the following year, the school board had decided that this April Fool thing had gone too far, and they convinced us kids that they meant business. We knew there was no way we could pull another stunt like we pulled the year before and get away with it. We accepted the new ruling and had no intention of causing any trouble.

However, just before the lunch hour that day I was talking with some boys and jokingly said, "We'd better not run away but when they tell us to pa.s.s to cla.s.ses, we could just remain seated." I hadn't really meant it and we didn't plan action. If I had meant it, I would have suggested that we remain seated only a minute or less, just to demonstrate student solidarity, and that not in defiance, but rather in fun.

But I underestimated the effects of my little suggestion and the solidarity of the student body. When one o'clock came and the teacher said, "Rise and pa.s.s to your cla.s.ses," not one student got up. I was surprised. Something was happening here beyond any suggestion I had made.

Other teachers got together, whispered a few words in their huddle and one of them gave the order again, but still no one made a move. Then Mr. Hinton came out, spoke a few words of advice to us and asked us to go to our cla.s.ses. This time three girls got up and went to cla.s.s, perhaps the same three who showed up for cla.s.s the year before.

By this time I had begun to feel guilty and uneasy. I didn't know who had planned all this nor whether it was the result of my suggestion, but I knew I could be held responsible because of what I had said. The thing had gotten out of hand and someone could get hurt. I knew that someone could be me. This just wasn't right, but I didn't want to be the one to spoil something someone else had planned, if indeed someone else had planned it, so I went along with the scheme.

Next, Mr. Greene called a student into his office. I don't remember who the student was, but he soon came back and took his seat with the rest of us. And again, another teacher asked us to respond, but we didn't.

Then Mr. Greene sent for me, and at that moment I guess I felt smaller than I had ever felt in my life. I think I could have crawled through the knothole in our back porch, through which I put so many calomel tablets when I was a little kid. I thought to myself, "This time they have caught me, I'm guilty, I'll be kicked out of school, and I have no idea how severely Papa will punish me this time."

But my worry had not been necessary. I learned right away that Mr. Greene and the teachers were not looking for someone to blame for this unpleasant incident, but rather, they were looking for a leader-a Moses, mind you, to lead these students out of the study hall and into the cla.s.srooms, thereby keeping us all out of serious trouble.

I went back and took my seat in the study hall. Again one of the teachers said, "Rise and pa.s.s to your cla.s.ses."