Dear Readers,
I recently had an email exchange with a high school classmate, Robert Fisher. The following contains the rest of one story, Thora Jean Tampke’s “Go-West Show,” for which I will fill in the gaps. It segues into another story. Since I admire Robert’s writing, I will not try to improve it. My part is in italics.
In the spring of 7th grade our core (English/social studies) teacher, Mrs. Tampke must have felt like she had enough talent in her class to produce a little variety show on the theme of Westward-Ho! of the 1860-1890’s. I have kept her name as is because most of her students will remember her for all the right reasons. We all just loved her. She was a wiry little silver-haired woman, inspiring to the max, but who stood for no nonsense, and who treated us like we were her extra-special (brilliant!) class of 7th graders. Once she showed us the covers on the projects of students from a bragadocious neighboring teacher, and said, “Look at this!" She held up a booklet with a large object hanging on it and some lettering in gold glitter. "Isn’t that silly to have pasted a whole tip of cowhorn on colored construction paper! How long is that going to stay on? How is anyone going to read what’s inside? I don’t think Mrs. So-&-So has any idea about proper artwork for project covers. I am so happy with my student’s covers! So many wonderful ideas, and so much good, hard work. I’m so proud of you all!” She'd lowered her voice, as she spoke to us confidentially. We didn’t dare repeat it outside the class or she might never tell us another juicy secret again!
In the planning stage of the Go-West program the students really “helped” Mrs. Tampke by submitting writings and poems for presentation. In my case, I opened the show with the folksong “Sweet Betsy.” From then on I was known as a singer. Robert’s email was an inquiry about the verses of this song….which are many and not very standard because it recounts all the terrible episodes experienced by the Overlanders traveling to the Great West. I told him that there were as many versions as there were minstrel travelers. He continues…..
The western theme presentation for Mrs. Tamke's class was the beginning of the grim slide for me. I was terrified of speaking in public, and had to turn down the big part she had assigned me. One twit who was temporarily bigger than I was made fun of me for that. Hard to believe, now people ask me to speak at their parents' funerals and their daughters' weddings, and I love it. No bigger ham anywhere.
Seventh grade was also when I learned the importance of boys having muscles, and I didn't have any. Again, too late to do the child any good, I lifted weights for forty years and at age 58 could put lots of kids to shame on the bench press. That is all gone now, but the memories are terrific. And my sons loved it.
Well, this is disappointing. (Here, Robert is referring to a rousing marching song about entering 7th grade and going to Jr. High. He thought I was responsible, though I was not.) I wonder who was responsible? The only other female that comes to mind was Belle Marie Dawson. Not sure how musically oriented she was. As a fifth grader at Arthur Circle she did cause a row in Mrs. Scalf's class. Perhaps that is why she is memorable.
Mrs. Scalf was an older woman (probably all of 40) poised to shower terror and pain on anyone who got out of line, especially mean little boys who talked back. She would either throw chalk or grab the offender by the collar muscle.
Poor Belle Marie was at the uppity little girl stage of her life and would quite readily talk back. More importantly, she had developed an almost involuntary response of exasperation that included a shoulder shrug and a ceiling sweep of the eyes.
On this day to be remembered, she crossed Mrs. Scalf in class over some matter, Mrs. Scalf cautioned her, and, really involuntarily, Belle Marie gave the shrug/sweep response. This absolutely infuriated Mrs. Scalf. As we fifth graders watched, the warning-response cycle repeated itself several times until chalk was thrown AND the collar muscle was grabbed. Belle Marie was sobbing but could not stop the reflex. "Don't look at me like that!" " I will not tolerate that!" "Owwww!!"
Nobody laughed. We could not accept what was unfolding. Belle Marie was powerless to stop her response, and Mrs. Scalf grew more furious with each cycle.
I do not recall how it ended. It seemed it went on15 minutes, but probably took only a minute. It was the basis of legend, though. Even today I can email John Stahls in Tyler, Texas and say "Belle Marie" and he'll know what I'm dredging up.
OK, you didn't write the song. Yes, I was in Mrs. Tamke's class. Another story there.
I’ve discovered that memories from 5th to 9th grade can be pretty indelible. Mrs. Scalf has gone down as a cruel teacher who overly humiliated and punished Belle Marie. I don't recall a teacher being that mean to any young student during my 1 through 12 school years. There were some teachers with harsh tongues & mean glares, but I don’t think anyone ever touched a child aggressively.
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