The picture above is the elementary school I attended. Sorta. It’s been remodeled and renamed multiple times. They’ve built on giant sections that I don’t recognize, including the fancy-pants entrance in the photo. That shit didn’t exist when I went there. In fact, we entered on a completely different side of the school. As God intended. The whole thing is an abomination, a Frankenstein’s monster version of a once-proud house of learning. I don’t even like to drive past it now. The old baseball field in the back is gone… It’s depressing. It was called Dunbar Elementary when I went there, and is now something ludicrous like Dunbar Primary Center. What in the world?! I’m getting all fired up just typing this.
Anyway, today I’m going to briefly run down a few completely random memories of things that happened while I was in that building, and turn it over to you guys. Hopefully you have some similar memories of your own to share? Let’s get started, shall we?
There was a kid named William who had one Spock ear. Word on the street was that he held it that way, with his fingers, for many, many hours. Then it was permanent. One day he sneezed during class and a long string of snot came out, that nearly reached the floor. It was swinging there for an instant, still attached at the source. Then, with a great snort, he reeled the whole thing back in. I was both appalled and impressed.
During fourth grade we played BINGO a lot, or some learning-version of it, anyway. We had cards, and little plastic discs to mark them with. A kid named David would stand the discs up on their edges, and flick them like a paper football. Sometimes they’d go long distances, and it was all great fun. One day he did this and the disc went sailing, twisting and turning through the air. Then, to our absolute amazement, it landed directly in Mrs. Hill’s cup of coffee. A few minutes later she lifted it to her mouth to take a slurp, and noticed the thing floating in there. She just casually removed it, took her slurp, and continued with her day.
In that same class each of us were assigned a different animal, and allotted several days (weeks?) for “research.” At the end of that period of time, we’d have to stand in front of everyone and read a report we wrote about the animal we were assigned. It was a major project that lasted forever, it seemed. And one thing they kept reminding us: do not just copy stuff straight out of the encyclopedia. Everything must be written in our own words. The disc flicker from above, not the smartest person I’ve ever met, got up there with his scribbled notebook paper, and began, “The beaver, pictured at left…”
During sixth grade they were talking about starting a school newspaper, and asked us for our input on what features we’d like to see in the monthly publication. Another not-so-bright kid named Mike suggested “weather.” I thought that was hilarious.
In fifth grade our teacher, Mrs. Miller, was standing in front of the class talking to us. At one point she took her pen and scratched her forehead with it. Apparently she believed it was closed, or had the cap on it, but it wasn’t. So, we just sat there and watched as she inexplicably scribbled blue ink on her face. Good times.
Mrs. Hill, the fourth grade teacher with the BINGO cards, looked like Larry Csonka in a peasant dress. She was generally nice, as I recall, but had her moments. A girl named Tammy always had a messy desk, with papers and crap sticking out in every direction. A couple of times during the year Mrs. Hill ordered Tammy out of her seat, grabbed the entire desk/chair combination, and shook it above her head like King Kong. Everything came raining down, and Tammy was told to put it all back neatly. It was great!
During fifth and sixth grades (I think) we were occasionally forced to go to the “all-purpose room” and engage in what was purported to be square-dancing. An old guy from our town would come in and run the whole program, and it was ridiculous from the start. We’d “swing” the girls so fast their feet would literally come off the floor. And one time the old guy left the room for a few minutes, and a kid named Keith grabbed his microphone and shouted, “Swing your partner round and round, take her to the toilet, flush her down!” The entire exercise was barely contained anarchy.
A kid named Jerome would regularly fart in class so loud people in passing aircraft could probably hear it. It was nothing short of amazing. I remember he wouldn’t tilt to one side, as most stunt-farters do. He’d place both feet on the floor in front of him, and hoist his ass off the chair. Then he’d put his entire abdomen behind it, and create a crisp and sustained blast that had to be heard to be believed. The teachers would yell at him, but he would not be deterred.
During fifth grade (I believe) we kept going back for seconds in the cafeteria, trying to eat as many tater tots or new potatoes (there’s controversy about the actual food item involved) as possible. We were all keeping track, and attempting to outdo each other. And, for whatever reason, the cafeteria ladies just kept ’em coming. The next day we were all called into a room and given a raft of shit about it. They were not happy, for reasons I didn’t really understand, and wanted to know how many each of us had eaten. And everybody who admitted to a number higher than 15 had to wear a giant pig-shaped paper plate thing pinned to their shirts, with the words NO SECONDS written on it. I think some of the parents got mildly whipped-up about that, but mine didn’t. They just said something like, “What kind of dumbass would eat 22 new potatoes?”
In sixth grade I picked up one of those “tornadoes in a jar” things. Remember those? I started to shake it, to create the tornado, and it slipped out of my hands. The jar shattered and sent colored water and shards of glass flying in every direction. The custodian, Mr. Echols, was summoned, and was not amused. He’d always been super-nice to me, but turned on me that day. I was mortified.
Also during sixth grade somebody scratched the word FUCK in the bathroom door. Each classroom had its own small unisex bathroom, and somebody defaced the inside of the door. The new principal, Mr. Ellis, was outraged and ordered that the door be removed, until somebody confessed. So, our only bathroom had no door. I can’t remember how that worked, exactly. But I do remember the boys continued to use it anyway, and everybody could hear them peeing, loudly and clearly. The girls, though? I don’t know. But it only lasted a couple of days, and somebody finally broke, under the social pressure. And it was a girl! Amazing. I’m sure they had their eye on me, or one of my friends. Oh well.
I need to call it a day, my friends. I could easily do a part II on this subject, but I’m all out of time. I’m turning it over you guys now.
And I’ll see you again on Monday.
Have a great day!
Now playing in the bunker
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I always thought the square dancing thing was a WV only deal. But apparently – it took place all over the country.
We had square dancing class in west central Ohio so you knew how to square dance at any wedding you attended.
It must have been a national (or at least Southern/Appalachian) elementary phys ed trend in the late 70’s/early 80’s, as we had it out West Tennessee too
I went to Catholic School in Baltimore and we had square dancing sometime in elementary school, maybe 4th grade. The creepy thing was that the boys and girls had separate phys ed classes so we had square dancing where some of the boys had to be “girls.” I don’t remember which gender I was assigned during that class but I’m sure I was scarred nonetheless.
Upstate New York even had the square dancing. Absolutely mortifying.
There was a kid in our elementary school who had complete alopecia. We treated him very badly as a result. I’m still wracked with guilt when I think of rotten we were to him.
When I was in first grade I got in trouble for showing our class the travelling art teacher’s ‘surprise’ project of the day. She parked her cart in front of me so didn’t see me pull a finished example off the cart and wave it around to the whole class while she was trying to get them all worked up. A proud moment for me, until she turned around and banished me to the back of the room. Pretty sure that was the day I received my first kiss from a boy – he appreciated my efforts.
Of course this is all shrouded in the mists of time, and I might be off on a couple of details, but the broad strokes are still good.
Went to school in the DC suburbs (Maryland). We also did square dancing…I got swung into a wall.
Back then they still allowed corporal punishment, and we were terrified of the principal. I do remember having a kid in my first grade class that used to have to see Mrs. Poland on the regular for a spanking with a yard-stick.
Yea – I recall paddling. That was still going on when I was in high school (1980-1984).
I must be a juvenile at heart because I was laughing at everything. I was at the non-stop giggles when I hit the fact that the champion farter would not be deterred. I almost blew snot at that one. Well played Sir!
“stunt-farter” – heh heh
A classmate’s last name was Boubon, which was funny for obvious reasons to a 10-year-old. Decidedly less funny was her predilection for consuming Elmer’s glue (only pre-dried, lest you think she was some kind of animal) and copious amounts of mucus, straight from her booger hooks. I still, 20+ years later, remember the fluidity with which she Hoovered up a thick rope of snot connected from her nose to her finger. It remains one of the most horrifying sights of my life.
My dad had a story from when he was in elementary school; this would have been the early 1930s. Supposedly one of his classmates would eat ketchup and glue sandwiches (glue meaning white school paste).
Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose.
In 2nd grade while at recess, a bee got on the inside of my jeans. I remember running around
like an idiot, and then getting the paddle by the principle. To this day I’m confused on the relationship
between the two events on that horrible day in 1973. I told my dad about it, he left the supper
table, and took off in the El Camino and didn’t come back for about an hour. I asked my mom about it later and she told me”Your dad doesn’t spank you, he’s sure not going to let someone else spank you, so he went to have a talk with your principle”. Oh yeah…
We had square dancing in 1983 for gym. My girlfriend had gym the same time as I did
so it wasn’t too bad.
Two “events” that I was involved in in high school that I’m still quite proud of. Spray painting a big
Ozzy Rules on the driving simulator that was parked in the parking lot. It was quite the scandal…
And sneaking into the biology department and releasing ALL of the rats that were caged for dissection?. It took the teacher hours to recapture them. And I am not anti-dissection by any means.
I can remember in biology we had to dissect rats. When we were finished my friend and I were designated the task of disposing of the bodies in the dumpster, make sure its the dumpster – NOT the incinerator. The rats had been killed using chloroform or some such that was VERY flammable – we had a great time throwing them in the incinerator and watching them explode!!
That is brilliant!
Farts. So many farts… Funny then, funny now.
I went to PS 39 in Brooklyn, but my memories are few and hazy since it was only for kindergarten and first grade. I do remember Miss Lighter, a 50-something teacher, demonstrating simple harmonic motion of the tricep fleshbag as she wrote on the board.
After that I went to parochial school. There were many field trips. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge – the teacher stopped for a smoke, as one does – and we ended up at Fraunces Tavern. I would appreciate it more now than then, being brought to a bar on a random Tuesday. Another trip was to a meat packing plant, where we watched newly-dead cows getting their skin peeled off. There was also Teddy Roosevelt’s home, and several others. And lest we forget, there was (in 4th grade IIRC) a kid named Lawrence who jumped up on a desk, dropped trou, and hollered “lookit my dick!”
Great update, Jeff! Man, so many stories come to mind. In 4th grade the new kid, Charles, drank 11 1/2 pint cartons of milk, we kept buying them, he kept drinking. We were back in class when he puked out of nowhere. It was about a 15 foot diameter puddle of milk and chewed food. Ms Calvin yelled at us for making him do it. My friend Steve was really good at unlocking combination bicycle locks. We would go out to the bike rack at recess , 6th grade, find two or three that were the same style and colour, and switch locks on the bikes. At the end of the day there were all these kids who couldn’t get their bikes unlocked. At lunch one day my friend Lance mixed a bunch of food together in a disgusting cocktail. Out of nowhere, he flung one handful in the air and it stuck to the wall near the ceiling , where it stayed through 5th and 6th grade till I left the school. No telling how long it was there.
Hey look! Jeff delivered on a Thursday! Amazing!
I went to Catholic school and let me tell you, those nuns didn’t stand for any boolshit. I went from grades 1 – 7 then we moved and I went to public school. I went from the school attendance of about 240 to a CLASS SIZE of 280.
In Catholic school, our “gym” was also the assembly hall, the stage, a kitchen in back, etc.
In the new public school there were lacrosse fields, weight rooms, showers, the whole nine yards.
I didn’t adjust very well. Couldn’t wait to graduate.
Fascinating.
In 5th grade at Dunbar Elementary I was unfortunate enuf to see a 250 pound kid eat boogers. The same year, a dude named Kenny wiped a booger on my back and several classmates acted like I did that to myself. Seventh grade a sassy black young lady took gum out of her mouth and swirled it lasso style around and it flew onto me. Hated the smell, sight and taste of gum ever since.
KG, don’t remember much about that except that there was some stupid nap time I didn’t want nothing to do with.
Gr1. The standalone demo phone system (real phones, make em ring etc) and plastic dinosaurs.
Gr2.The only nun in the school. Not a lot of patience for anything. A giant stack of laminated ‘Jumble’ puzzles.
Gr3.Fractions. And the kid who snapped his leg multiple times. One I remember is he was running across the “soccer” field and managed to get his foot caught in a hole or something and down he went with a snap.
Gr4.The religious folk singer guitar playing teacher. New to the school, got a choir started, folk songs, hymns. Blah. To this day I can’t stand hearing either. I also got my ‘bullets’ nickname from the school bully that year. I forget what I did to him when I snapped, but I didn’t get bothered anymore. Maybe I cracked him upside the head with a toy pistol. Yes, I was into guns already.
Gr5.Best teacher in the school. Miss (Mrs?) Dyson. Patient, Able to explain stuff to anybody. Every friday was game day with candy prizes. Platform shoes and mustard yellow sneakers seemed to take off that year.
Gr6.The tiny Honda Civic driving teacher. Miss somethingerother. Probably a lesbian in hindsight. had that typical white woman fro so common in the 70’s/80’s. Fieldtrips to the local Tennis club–Also my first good look a hot womens boobs at that tennis club. We all had to sit out in the hall on the floor waiting for the bus to take us back to the school. Turns out I was seated across from the womans change room door. At that time, I knew I liked what I saw through that door when somebody came out or went in, even though I probably didn’t know yet why I liked what I saw. I blame that for starting my quest for nice boob porn. =-)
Gr7. Three mile island. Teacher drove an IH Travel All. Guess I was a budding gear head even then since I remember what a lot of people drove.
Gr8.New Cool Teacher to the school. Mercury passed hand to hand in science–and I mean, a blob of mercury passed around. Smashed the hell out of my knee, doing some stupid stund. Had a lump the size of my knee, hurt like hell, could barely bend it, bruised like hell and went through every color of the rainbow while it healed, was a crutches for a while, eventually hobbling around with one cruch. Gradumation!
Booby porn is the best!
My 11th grade physics lab teacher would often leave the class while we worked on book lessons. One day, just before the teacher returned, a student opened up a natural gas valve that was used for Bunsen burners and he said, “Everybody act like you are passed out.” The teacher freaked out smelling gas & thinking we were all dead. The teacher never left the class again after that day.