Memories Spoken

11:40:47 AM CST
I want to spend a few moments with my grandparents.  There were never two finer human beings that walked the planet that Clarence (Dig) and Sadie Cole.  I called my grandmother Ma and worshiped her as did my grandfather.  In fact, I don’t believe I ever heard anyone say a bad word against her.  

She had been married once before but her first husband died.  They had one child my Aunt Etlhynn whom everyone called “Sis.”  The story goes that on the day she married her first husband someone saw my grandfather on the street and because of the look of despair on his face asked him what was wrong.  He answered, “The only woman I will ever love got married today.”  After her husband died he paid suit to her and married her and had five girls with her.  All of my aunts were wonderful but I was most fortunate in my mother as she was much like my grandmother in temperment.

My grandmother was a wonderful cook and we had Sunday dinners and holiday dinners at our house.  By this time my mother had moved back with her folks who had retired and moved to the north side of Ames.  This was in the Gilbert High School district and again I was fortunate to be able to go to school there with its small classes and caring teachers.  

My grandmother had an antique shop on the front porch and I grew up around beautiful things.  Art  glass, Wedgewood, cut glass and interesting furniture were among the many things we enjoyed.  Many people came to her shop and we always had to stop what we were doing to wait on customers.  

My grandmother’s father was a lawyer, educated in Madison, Wisconsin.  He had been mayor of Ames and Master of Arcadia Lodge Ancient Free and Accepted Masons.  My grandfather’s family moved here in 1865.  They came by rail and first settled near the area of Homewood Golf Course.  Later (1875) they moved to the home place at 13th and Burnett.  The house I remember as belonging to my three maiden aunts.  Originally the Coles had come from Ireland and settled in western Massachusetts.   They were farmers and bricklayers and builders.


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11:39:39 AM CST
I had many of those throughout my Junior High and High School at Gilbert, Iowa.  We moved there when I was in eighth grade and it was a wonderful place to go to school.  There were only 17 in our class and I was the outsider.  Most of them had been together since kindergarten.  There was only one boy I did not get along with and as I think back on it now he was short.  That may explain it.  

The teachers there were outstanding.  My civics teacher was Helen Nichols and she had moved to the Gilbert School system when she married Judge Nichols.  At that time the school systems were still repressive and controlling as far as their teachers were concerned.  She chose to marry the Judge without permission from the school system and lost her job in Ames.  Their loss was my gain because she became not only one of my finest teachers but a friend with whom I kept in touch for many years.

I learned to drive while I was a student at Gilbert and our driving instructor took us to Des Moines to practice driving.  I am sure that is one reason I was not afraid to drive in Los Angeles when I went there to visit my mother’s sister between my Junior and Senior year.

Mother had gone out for a visit between Christmas and New Years and she had a wonderful time.  She wangled an invitation for me to go out the next summer and while I am sure it was a financial burden for her a train ticket was purchased and I boarded the train the next summer for a trip across the West to Los Angeles.  I think our country has made a great mistake by not developing the train system.  

It is a great way to travel and the observation cars revealed a never-ending panorama of the kaleidoscope that is America.  I sat for hours as the scenery went by with never ending changing landscapes.  I especially loved it when we went by and through mountains.  I was traveling with my money pinned to my undershirt and was very suspicious of my seatmate, a nice elderly lady, who I had been assured, would probably try to rob me of any money I had.   I learned card tricks from a traveling gentleman in the club car.  Took meals in the diner and thoroughly enjoyed my self.  Later I was to travel to the East coast on our Senior Class Trip to Washington, DC and New York City.  I traveled from one coast to the other within one year.  Not too bad for someone who had never been outside ofIowa and Nebraska.

Travel is a great teacher and I have been fortunate to travel to many places.  My favorite method of travel is by automobile and I love to plan and take a road trip, stopping when there is something interesting to see or just looking at the scenery as I whiz by.  

Gilbert also gave me my second experience in theater.  The first was an abortive attempt by someone to hold a class in “creative drama” in the auditorium of the Ames Public Library.  I was paired with another individual and told to pretend I was riding a horse around in a circle and hold a conversation with my partner as if I were George Washington.  After a not very successful attempt I dropped out after the first class.  I much preferred the Junior and Senior Class plays at Gilbert High School - One of them being “Granddad Steps Out.”  Not great theater but the audience (consisting of friends and family) seemed to like it and because of that experience I later joined the College players, Cedar Rapids Community Theater and ACTORS in Ames.  More about that later.

We also learned how to be entrepreneurs at Gilbert.  I joined the Future Farmers of America which was part of the Vocational Agriculture program taught by Guy Stockdale another teacher who became a friend.  Come to think of it most of my Gilbert teachers became friends and one of the best is Coleen Campbell who was my business/typing teacher.  As a part of this group we had to have a project. I raised chickens and made out like a bandit.  My grandfather loaned me an old house that stood on his property, which we had used as storage and a playhouse.  I purchased chickens and fed them and then he purchased them from me.  We took them to Boone to have them processed and besides the profit from the sale of the chickens I got to help eat them as my grandmother fixed them for Sunday dinner.



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11:37:58 AM CST
I am getting ahead of myself.    My mother married Charles Jackson and we moved first to Atlantic, Iowa, where my sister Ginny (Virginia Ruth) was born.  Later we lived in Jackson, Neb and finally south Sioux City, Nebraska.  I learned a lot during these years.   One thing I learned was never to go swimming in the river and tell some friendly man your name.  When I got home my mother asked me what I had been doing.  I told her and of course did not get into trouble because I had not lied. I was, however, sternly warned not to do it again.

I also learned never try put out a fire with a pillow.  It happened this way.  It was a really hot night shortly after my sister had been born July 1 of 1952.  My stepfather was sleeping in the bay window in the dining room.  Mother had gone to bed and was having a cigarette in bed.  She thought she was putting the cigarette out in an ashtray but missed and put it out in a mattress instead.  When she woke up she screamed fire.  (This scream was heard several blocks away.)  She woke us all and we immediately panicked and ran all over getting something to put out the fire that had caught the curtains on fire.

My stepfather was sleeping in the nude and when the girl who lived upstairs came down to our apartment he realized he was naked and she realized that she had no top on. They immediately rectified this situation and all of continued our firefighting activities.  We went right through the bathroom and it’s large bathtub and into the kitchen to get water.  I picked up an iron skillet and carried this small amount of water to toss it on the bed.  

Eventually I figured that I could probably put it out by beating it with something.  (I am sure that I had seen this somewhere at the movies.) I picked up a pillow and began to beat on the fire.  Of course it caught on fire and we had feathers all over the entire house.  We eventually did get the fire under control and the fire department came and made sure that it was out. It would not have been so bad to clean up if it had not been for the feathers, which blanketed the floor in every room in the house.    I learned several things from this experience mainly that you should not smoke in bed nor should you use a pillow to put out a fire.  

Atlantic is in southwest Iowa and I enjoyed my time there.  I joined the Boy Scouts andwent to camp.  We always crossed the street so that we would not have to walk past the large grey dilapidated house with monkey cages in the back. We did this because older kids told us that a mad scientist lived there and he would grab us and put us inhis cages and we would never be heard from again..  I attended Jackson Elementary School which was neat because at that time I was going by the name Jay Jackson.  I learned about polio and to stay away from the creeks that went near our home.  Iron lungs were a threat and we all tried to avoid circumstances which would lead to polio. It was not until several years later that the polio vaccine was invented.  It was truly scary to live during those times.

I also learned that short men were sometimes difficult to get along with.  There was a man who lived up the alley from us and he was just nasty to us kids.  Mom told me that short men many times felt inadequate and that I should excuse/forgive him his nasty behavior. That advice has stood me in good stead for many years.  Mother was a peacemaker and never liked conflict.  She was a good friend to everyone and I was very fortunate to have her for a mother.

I had a paper route and remember that $10.00 went missing from my collection money and was not until much later that I figured out that my stepfather, who was an alcoholic, probably took the money to buy a bottle.  Chuck was a really great person except when he was drinking.  Sometimes he was great when he was drinking.  I still remember the nice baseball glove he gave to me one time after he had been drinking.  It was super!

We went on lots of picnics and I was never sure when I was eating fried chicken whether it was thr crunchy coating or June bugs I was ingesting. The picnics were highlights as were trips back to Ames.  We would “bull it through” never stopping.  Chuck would drain out some of a bottle of 7 up and then top it off with whisky to sip as we drove along. It was a wonder that we were not all killed but by the luck of divine providence and the ability of an alcoholic to function while under the influence we were spared although his job was lost because of his drinking.

We then went to Jackson, Nebraska a small, mostly Catholic, community about 10 miles west of Sioux City.  The town was nestled in among some high hills and was a great place to hike.  I learned never to try to heat acan of beans without putting a hole in it  I went on a camp out by the (probably polluted) stream where we used to swim and took food along to cook.  I built a small fire (Boy Scout remember) and proceeded to heat some hot dogs and a can of beans.  The beans would heat just as well in the can, or so I thought, and so I put them in the middle of the fire.  After a few moments and an explosion there were beans all over the place and I never tried to do that stunt again.  

I always called my stepfather “Chuck” with an occasional “Dad” thrown in but not nearly as often as I should have.  He taught me many things, how to kill a chicken without cutting it’s head off, how to toss baseball and of course, about sex.  I still remember the large storeroom where he gave me “the” talk.  I think most of it went right over my head.  I did not make the connection between the “balloons” the older boys had and the condom box with a Greek warrior on the cover labeled “Trojans” which I carried around in my see through shirt pocket.  When Mom noticed that I got another “lecture” from Chuck.

As I stated earlier this was a mostly Catholic community.  I think there was one other protestant family in town.  The school had been a parochial school for most of its existence.  Recently it had been turned over to the state but the Catholic Church and meeting hall right across the street.  You could look out the windows of the school and see the priest walking back and forth to visit his parishioners.  I was not used to Catholic Priests and did not understand the long “dress” which he wore as he went on his visits.

One day I was playing with the other boys on the field between the meetinghouse and the church and he walked by.  All of the kids I was playing with immediately said “Hello Father” and I just said “Hello” a big mistake as he spun around with skirts flapping and began to descend on me.  I had seen him grab others by the ear and knew that I was destined for that fate.  The kids started to yell “He’s not Catholic, Father” and I was spared the indignity of having my ear pulled.  For some reason this instance has stayed with me and I doubt that I will ever feel comfortable around a priest in a long robe.

I learned the “Our Father” and “Rosary” by listening to the radio.  We had dug a fort under the ground in the side of a hill and wired it for electricity and had a radio in our “den.”   It was great fun to crawl through the tunnel entrance and hide out from the world.  The only radio station close by was a Catholic one and every evening someone would read the prayer which starts; “Hail Mary full of grace.  They called her “Mother of God.” I don’t think I ever could understand how God could have a mother but at that point in my life it was just neat to have a hide out from grown ups.

I had a beagle puppy when we lived in Jackson and my sister and I both loved Boots.  He was a lot of fun but we had to watch him as a highway ran right through town and beagles are notorious for catching a scent and running after whatever they are hunting.  As fate would have it Boots wasn’t killed on the highway but on the dirt road, which ran west of our house.  This was one of my first experiences with death.  While we were living there my mother’s Uncle Lew died and I suppose the experience of losing my pet helped me to understand the sadness my mother felt over his death.  

Pets are great teachers for kids and I have learned a lot because of the pets I have owned.  They have each enriched my life and I am grateful for each of them.  

My first black friend went to school with me in South Sioux City.  For some reason I had never been around a black person though I had certainly seen many of them in Ames because of the University.  We had a short friendship since we only lived there for a month but it made an impression on me.

Another impression I had in South Sioux City was a teacher who could not handle her class.  The boys were kind of rough and would rag her unmercifully.  I think it was to get her to cry which she would do frequently in front of the class.  I don’t know how long she lasted but I can still see her standing in front of the class wiping her eyes.  I felt sorry for her but did not respect her.  I much preferred the teachers who were stern but loving.


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11:36:07 AM CST
My mother worked at the home economics department at Iowa State College and my friend Dennis and I used the College as a playground. We used to haunt the halls of the college.  The statue of the Winged Victory in the home economics building was impressive.  Standing in front of it and looking up at its armless shoulders transported me to a different era. In the basement there were cages and cages of white rats.

The entire campus was impressive and we were given free reign to wander and explore.  I don’t think my mother would have allowed me to roam the campus today but in the late 40’s and early 50’s it was a different world.  

One of the most impressive buildings was the Memorial Union and we would sneak into rooms such as the Great Hall.  It truly was a “great” hall. I usually went in and stood and looked up at the beautiful woodwork that was given a soft glow from the lights high on the balcony.   Very impressive to my 10 year old mind.  I was later to find out that members of my family helped to build the Union. I still enjoy going to the Union and watching people.  

Another part of the Union that was awesome to me was the hallway through which you entered on the North side.  As you approached you passed the Four Season Fountain that was sculpted by Christian Peterson.  We are fortunate to have this great artist’s work in our community.  They enrich us all.

After passing the fountain you entered the Union through revolving doors and walked around, never over, the brass zodiac imbedded d in the floor.  The entrance took you out of bright sunlight into a reverent glow from stain glass windows through a hall with names on the walls.  I did not know that these were the names of those who had given their lives for our country but learned later that way why it was the Memorial Union.  I still get goose bumps when I walk through this hallway dedicated to brave men and women who gave their all to our country.  

Having this resource in our community greatly enriches all of our lives.  People from all over the world come to Ames, Iowa and I grew up seeing people wearing beautiful long saris from India and beautiful clothing from Africa.  I am not sure that it made as much of an impression upon me at that age but as I think back on it and, occasionally, see someone wearing this colorful garb today I am grateful for growing up in such a cosmopolitan community.

One of the ways I was able to use this wonderful resource was when I developed the Friendship Fair experience when I taught sixth grade at Whittier school.  I got an idea and worked with Gene Clubine, Dorothy Folly (?)  and Dennis Peterson at the International Resource Office at the University.  We would bring in 8 to 10 International (I never use the term foreign as that means “outside” and no one is outside the family of man.)  students and they would bring artifacts from the Resource Center or which they had brought with them.  We would set them up in small groups around the room and divide the students up so that there was a ratio of no more than one to ten.  The students from school would be instructed to bring pictures of their families to share with the international student.

We would ring a bell every 20 to 25 minutes and students would “fruit basket upset” and move to a different station.  They did not get to meet with all of the international students but they traveled to 5 to 7 different countries in the course of a day.  The International students would eat lunch with us; get a tour of the school and go out to recess with the class.  It was truly a great experience for all concerned and I am happy to say that the program spread around the state and occasionally I still hear of a “Friendship Fair” being held somewhere.  Of course the format is sometimes changed to fit the needs of the school but I am proud that these fairs have enriched the lives of our students.



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11:34:56 AM CST
The school I attended was Beardshear Elementary School.  It was a giant of a building (to me) and you either went upstairs or downstairs when you first came in.  One of my classmates was a lad named Nick Nolte.  

One of the things I learned from Nick was how to get around parents.  I would tell my mother that I was going to Dennis Wendell’s (another classmate) house to play.  Dennis told his mother he was going to my house.  I don’t think Nick had to tell anyone where he was going.  We had a grand time in the pine forest on 13th street building a fort.  That is until I looked across the way and saw my grandfather’s car parked on 13th Street and my grandfather striding across the field coming to take me home.  

I don’t remember any punishment for this episode but I also don’t remember ever doing it again.  Nick went on to a career in the movies and is a terrific actor.  I am a fan.  I was also a fan of his mother, Helen, and remember her as a really glamorous lady, tall, pretty, if not beautiful who wore floor length quilted satin robes.  Since my mother preferred short duster type robes Mrs. Nolte seemed exotic indeed..  She moved to Phoenix, Arizona and I used to call her and visit when I went through on a trip.  I followed Nick’s career before he hit it big through her updates.  She predicted “He is going to be a star someday.”  A prediction that proved true.  

My mother and I lived with her parents (Clarence Gordon and Sadie Cole) on the United States Department of Agriculture Hog Cholera Research Station.  My parents had been divorced and I only have one memory of my father coming around to see me.  On that occasion I referred to my grandfather as “Dad” so I imagine that was an excuse for him not to revisit.

The Research station had a large white house on it without an indoor bathroom.  One of the things which was put on was the bathroom and I remember the switch from outside to inside.  It was quite a difference.  For one thing it was a lot warmer and for another the smell was much nicer.  

There was a station office , a one story building with offices on the north end and intriguing labrotories in the middle with an operating room connected to pig pens on the shuth. My grandfather worked with another man whose name was also Clarence.  They used to call each other P.T. and I called Clarence Cameron P.T. also never suspecting that P.T. stood for Pig Turd.  

There were pigs aplenty on the station as it was the research station devoted to the eradication of Hog Cholera.  They developed the crystal virus vaccine there and were always doing post mortoms of the deceased hogs.  I remember the operating  room where this occurred as a large room with gray white walls and windows on two sides.  I generally smelled like disinfectant and was kept very clean.  I followed in the footsteps of my aunt by watching my grandfather work on the hogs.  My mother’s sister told the story of accompanying her father on trips to farms and watching him operate on cattle.   Evidently the cow would stand quietlywhile he operated on them

In the operating room dead hog would be brought in and stretched on its back.   Its four legs each tied to a chain and the hog would be stretched out on the table.  An incision would be made from neck to lower belly and the organs would be taken out and examined.  I can still visualize Granddad thrusting his hand into the open cavity and pulling out a heart or a liver or a handful of bowels.  He smoked a cigar while he did this to kill the smell coming from the hog.

After examination the hog would be taken to the rendering works plant just across the
Skunk River.  The research station was on a high bluff on the east side of the river.  The rendering plant just across the river and when they fired up to render the dead animals the odor was worse than the animal for whom the river was named.  We were not spared the aroma even though we were high on the bluff.  Granddad’s cigar could no kill that smell.

We also had guinea pigs there and I enjoyed playing with them.  My grandfather told me that if you pulled on a guinea pigs tail his eyes would pop out.  I have shared that bit of wisdom with every student who brought one of these creatures into my classroom.  Of course some of them believed me immediately,  Others politely informed me that guinea pigs had no tails.

One animal which seems to be all tail is the snake.  The research station had woods to the north and south.  The woods on the south side were seldom ventured into but those on the north were fair game.  We would play cowboys and Indians (politically correct in that era) and build forts.  The fun went out of it for me when I came across a snake slithering along.  I think it was the unexpectedness of it that startled me and I was sure that it was going to bite me and poison me.  In retrospect this small harmless garter snake was probably just as sure that I was going to harm it and it took off in the other direction.  Being a first rate coward where snakes are concerned I no longer enjoyed playing in those woods.   This is the woods where I got the TeePee poles for Miss Mabee’s project.

A large farm house with two bedrooms upstairs and a kitchen, dining room and living room (where we put the first TV) was below.  There was also a lean-to shed for storage where my grandmother kept her excess antiques.  She was a collector and the house was filled with beautiful, old things.  Look but don’t touch.

The house had a sleeping porch and there is nothing quite as wonderful as sleeping on a sleeping porch.  Surrounded on three sides by screens the breezes blow gently over you and the scent of new mown alfalfa brought pleasant dreams – the first aroma therapy.

Growing up in Ames, Iowa was like growing up in a large, extended family.  

My mother and father had divorced when I was four years old and we moved in with her parents Clarence (Dig) and Sadie Cole.  My grandfather was the head of the Hog Cholera Research Lab on east 13th street and mother would drop me off at the School in the morning.  As there was no school lunch program I would go for lunch at my grandfather’s brother’s home, a large brick house at 522 Crawford.  The house was built by my grandmother’s father and the brick veneer put on by my great uncle.  I can remember him putting the brick on the house and to me it is still the grandest house in Ames.

After school I would play and then walk to Main Street with Miss Steele. (That is where I learned about the gentleman walking on the outside.)  I would wait for mother at Dixon’s drug store where I read comics and occasionally had fries and a green river or a coke.  After she finished work mother would pick me up and we would go home, except on Wednesdays when I would go to my great aunt and Uncle’s at 522 Crawford for supper and wait until later to go home.

My grandfather had three unmarried sisters who lived at the “home” place at 13th and Burnett Streets.  One of them was a first grade teacher at Roosevelt School for 40 years.  Later in my career I wasfortunate to teach at Roosevelt School and loved the experience. I would spend Saturday nights with them (I think that is when my mother was out partying) and Uncle Lew and Aunt Kate would come for supper and we would always go for a drive afterwards.  Uncle Lew had a Nash Rambler and would close doors by gunning the car forward until they slammed shut.  

Aunt Avis and Aunt Kate and I would ride in the back seat.  I don’t remember that Aunt Liz went along but she may have.  Aunt Kate Mike and Uncle Lew rode in the front.  I was thrilled when I had grown tall enough to stretch all the way across the back seat from door to door.  These were great times always followed by climbing the steep stairs to the upstairs bedroom, through the great cold center room which had once been a large room for the male members of the family to sleep in to the smaller rooms on the west side of the house where Aunt Kate and I would lay and tell stories about Mrs. Peabody, a thoroughly imaginary person who entertained us for hours.

I learned about a strong love of family from these people and from my grandmother’s sister Ethyl Meeker.  My mother had five sisters three of who lived in Ames.  You can see that with that large a family there was not much I could do that someone didn’t find out about and let my mother know.  This was the norm in those days.  Almost everyone knew who you were and who your parents were and they all watched out for you and made sure you were safe.  I was a tall kid and so easily spotted around town.

One disadvantage of being tall was that people always assumed that you were older than you were.  They expected more from you than you were ready to give.  I do remember one instance that stands out in relation to my height.  Ames had several movie theaters, The Collegian and the Capitol on Main Street and the New Ames and Varsity in Campus town.  The manager of the theaters was Joe Gerbrach and he was a frustrated impresario with special shows and games for us to play when we went to the movies.  He hung his sailfish and swordfish trophys in the outer lobby.  

The Capitol had matinees on Saturdays and I remember being dropped of to go to the movie when I was 11 years old.  I had enough money for a child’s ticket and went to buy my ticket.  The ticket seller did not believe my age and would not let me in.  I was upset and went down to Dixon’s drug to telephone my grandmother who came right into town and read the ticket seller the riot act.  “That boy does not lie.” was one of her statements and I think that is one of the reasons that I learned never to lie.  If someone as good as my grandmother was going to stick up for me in that manner I would not be able to lie in the future.

Movies were a large part of our entertainment lives then.  Television was just beginning to be popular and we listened to dramas on the radio.  We used to go to movies regularly and I used to love the front rows.  Cowboy and Tarzan movies were big draws and we learned that the good guys always won and one person could make a difference.  One of the fun times at the movie theater was to have giant “kiddy” matinees and Mr. Gerbrach was the Master of Ceremonies.  He would dispense silver dollars for the kids who could eat soda crackers and then whistle some tune.  There were balloons and games and then of course, the movie.  

Over the years I have watched thousands of movies.  The movies I grew up with “left you at the bedroom door” as my mother used to say. Things have changed since then.  There were also moral lessons that we learned by watching the movies and we also grew up with some of the greatest talent the world has ever known.



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11:33:29 AM CST
A Memory Spoken
By Jay Cole Simser

For most of my 62 years, beginning when I was four years old, I have been associated with one kind of school or another.  For the past 38 years I have been an elementary school educator.  During those years I have learned a lot.  (The teacher always learns more than the student).  In addition I have had a lot of life experiences all of which have given me some insights.  I hope you enjoy reading this.

Early Years

I grew up in Ames, Iowa and had a marvelous experience with my elementary teachers,  Juanita Steele, Vivian Maybee, Marguerite Kirby, and Evelyn Carlson were dedicated professionals who saw to it that students learned.  

Miss Steele  was a fairly tall, prematurely white haired woman with a stern demeanor.  My mother visited class one time and told me years later that she thought she was too strict.  Nevertheless we loved her and would do anything for her.  She taught me that the reason a man walks on the outside of the street is so that the lady would not get splashed by mud as the horse and buggy or car drove by.  Of course I later learned that there was a different, far older, reason but I still like her version best..  She also made sure that I was well grounded in reading and began my love for reading.

The word to describe Miss Maybee was sweet.  She was not as tall as Miss Steele but was a really nice person and a good teacher.  We were doing activities and projects designed to give us life experiences and help us to learn long before the hands on method of learning was popular.  In her classroom I remember that we brought in poles from the forest and made Indian (Native American now) teepees in the classroom.  

Miss Kirby, fourth grade teacher, walked with a limp.  I am not sure what the reason was but suspect that it had something to do with her hip.  As she walked past me onetime I reached out and touched her hip.  It was hard, not soft like skin would be.  It had to have been a brace of some sort.  I am not sure why I reached out to touch it,  It could have been a dare or just natural curiosity.  I am thankful that she did not notice.  Miss Kirby read to us from the books of Marguerite Henry and I still love and read her books.  She lived on a farm not far from Ames and a highlight of the year was a trip and picnic to her farm.  Even though I lived on the Hog Cholera Research Station her farm was a wonderful experience for us.

Miss Carlson was  the principal and was very strict and because I was an ornery kid I got to see her on several occasions.  While she was strict you still knew, deep inside, that she liked you and wanted you to do your best.  She also taught 1/2 days so we had her as a teacher as well as principal.

Years later when I joined the faculty of Ames Elementary Schools Miss Steele and Miss Carlson were both still teaching and both of them took me up to the Superintendent of Schools and introduced me as a former student.  I don’t know what Mr. Hetzel thought but I was honored.


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