1st Grade
by George Steffen
8th Grade Basketball
by George Steffen
My only memory of 1st grade was Nellie Sharp demoting me from
the "Cardinal" reading group to the "Bluebird" group. Provided several
of my classmates with a case of the giggles and finger pointing. I've
never forgiven her. Still in therapy. LOL
8th Grade Basketball
by Terry Spaeth
Speaking of “attractive” ladies, an eighth grade memory was our
parochial basketball team’s visit to GCHS for a little friendly
competition with our secular classmates. Upon arrival, some jocular
competitors directed us to our locker room... the girls’ showers. To our
delight, the A squad cheerleaders were showering after a hard practice.
After a fair amount of shrieks, we found our way to the correct locker
room, but not before fulfilling a cherished adolescent dream. Ahhh...
those were the days!
Kindergarten
by Connie Kohlhepp
In 1955 we town kids were eligible to enter
kindergarten. Our teacher was Mrs.
Bach. My memories of her are flowered
dresses and “spankings” on our birthdays.
She would pull us over her lap and clap her hand together to simulate a
spanking. I don’t remember much about
the school time except that we had graham crackers and milk each day. We all recited this prayer:
Thank you
for the world so sweet
Thank you
for the food we eat
Thank you
for the birds that sing
Thank you
God for everything.
We had show-and-tell and rest time each day. We all brought in a rug for rest time. Most of us had little rugs and had
to curl up to stay off the floor. George
S was the only one who had a long sleeping bag thing so he could rest in
stretched out comfort. He also thought
that he was pretty smart for knowing that the African violets I brought in for
show-and-tell really didn’t come from Africa as I fraudulently claimed. Our field trip that year was a train ride.
Recess on the Hill
by Helen Limberg
It was a cold and rainy night - no, really, it was a bright, sunny, cold winter day in Glenwood City, Wisconsin. It was recess time so all the students were out on the playground with the teachers standing around talking. All the adults were hoping the time would pass quickly and all the students were hoping they could get more time playing on the equipment or sliding down the huge hill on one side of the school property.
Sliding down the hill on saucers (curved, metal structures) was the favorite of the older kids. We would start at the top of the hill because that is where the school was and then sit on the saucers grabbing the cloth straps so we didn’t fall off. Going down the hill was a lot faster than climbing back up, especially when the tracks down started icing over. Then one could truly take a speedy and frightening trip down the hill. At the bottom there was a small flat area and then another small hill that led right into the road.
Well, you guessed it. During those icy days it didn’t take long for kids to end up in the street. It took longer for the teachers to realize that it was dangerous - not that the kids had a clue. My last trip down the hill wasn’t an eye opener. As I went down the small hill, I hit my head and it knocked me out. I came to looking at some of my friends asking me if I was all right.
As an aside, some of the playground equipment is now at the old Rivard homestead. The merry-go-round which also used to throw us off when it reached top speed is there as is some of the other equipment like the swings. It used to be a bed and breakfast so people could use the equipment.
A fire started in the school on July 31, 1958, about 2 pm. It was a Wednesday and both the Glenwood City and Boyceville fire departments help put out the fire. It took about 2 hours. I don’t think they ever found out how it started.
2nd Grade Fail
by Connie Rassbach
For the most part elementary students adore or
at least admire their teachers. I loved
all my teachers except for Mrs. Fick in second grade.
She was only there for one year that I know of
and maybe that’s because she really wasn’t cut out to be a teacher. I vividly remember that she taped Karl
Gordon’s mouth shut (probably for a good reason) but even back then that was
pretty harsh. I felt very sorry for him
as he was all red-eyed and crying and the tape left marks on his face. The only other thing I remember about that
year is an icy slide that the boys made from the top of the hill to the
street. They would come in from recess
with wet pants and had to sit in the laundry room missing the first part of afternoon classes while their pants were in the
dryer. Later classes had the privilege
of having Mrs. Bonte for second grade, and she was loved and respected. After second grade some of our classmates transferred to the new St. John's Parochial School.
4th Grade at Hersey
by Connie Kohlhepp
In 1960, when we were ten years old and in 4th Grade, we were bused to
Hersey because the old high school on the hill had burned down and the
high schoolers got our building; so we were sent to church basements,
Emerald, or Hersey. In Hersey we had half of the two-room school with
bathrooms in the basement that smelled like a sewage plant. One big
event that year was the grand opening of I94 from Eau Claire to
Minneapolis. Miss Gibson and Mrs. McGee loaded us all onto a school bus
so we could witness Gov. Nelson and Miss Hersey, Diane Petronovich, cut
the red ribbon. I also remember thinking at the time that it was
totally unnecessary to have a four-lane highway because there weren't
that many cars using it.
I don’t really remember what we studied except that Mrs. McGee organized us so that we presented songs while costumed that were eventually presented in Madison, Wisconsin. The whole class participated in some form. We were all costumed which meant hooped skirts. A male was helping us and he thought the girls would be embarrassed if he created the hoops on us. Of course it was no problem because unlike today’s costume fittings, we had all our clothes on.
Music Lessons
by Helen Limberg
During the summer of 3rd or 4th grade children in the Glenwood City Public Schools were able to pick out instruments to play in the school band. The director/instructor was Mr. John Clair and he taught the instrumental musicians all the way through high school. He was responsible for hundreds of children learning how to play an instrument, be part of a band, and compete in district/state competitions. In remembrance he has a curbstone at Havenwood in Glenwood City.
Taking the lessons was quite a project in organization. First, we had to pick the instruments. I think he guided us a little as to what might be good blends for the band. Then we had to learn how to play. In today’s world most students have group lessons, but we had individual lessons that were about 15 minutes. We took lessons all summer in the cafeteria of the grade school and during the year we were in a tiny room off the stage/gym. We had to leave our classes for the lessons and I don’t know how he got everyone scheduled. I guess the teachers were quite flexible. The band had practice once a week, I think, in the basement of the grade school. We also had choir so I think the groups shared the same room although on different days.
St. John's Mean Boys
by Connie Kohlhepp
After all our bus riding in 4th grade, we were
finally back in our own school in 5th Grade with Mrs. Gerber for our
teacher. She did a lot of teaching
sitting at her desk and reading books to us.
She was gray-haired and kind and had large bosoms that started at her
waist. I never liked to ask her
questions because she had cigarette breath which totally spoiled my image of
her. I would have liked to walk home
that year as we were the last ones off of a very long bus route and I could get
home faster by walking. However, there
was danger. Mean boys stood on the
sidewalk in front of St. John’s pelting bypassers with snowballs. Apparently St. John’s didn’t have the same no
snowball throwing rule the public school had.
So it was back to riding the bus for me.
I can identify one of these culprits but only by his initials TS in case
he became an attorney or something.
These same boys later joined us in high school and became leaders and
friends, but it’s never too late to confess and repent.
Sixth Grade Drama
by Helen Limberg
One of the most memorable projects during my “elementary” life was the historical drama we presented when I was in Mrs. McGee’s 5th/6th grade class. I think it was the first time two grades were combined and Mrs. McGee was a member of the state historical society. Little did I know that this would be the beginning of my drama interests.
I don’t really remember what we studied except that Mrs. McGee organized us so that we presented songs while costumed that were eventually presented in Madison, Wisconsin. The whole class participated in some form. We were all costumed which meant hooped skirts. A male was helping us and he thought the girls would be embarrassed if he created the hoops on us. Of course it was no problem because unlike today’s costume fittings, we had all our clothes on.
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