Reinhardt Memories

Subject: Reinhardt memories
Date: 5/15/2007 11:20 pm

Since the reunion, Steve, Shari and I have been exchanging many emails with memories about going to Reinhardt, Gaston and BA. I thought I would share this one with a larger group.

Larry was a friend of mine, especially in the second or third grade. I visited his home one time; he lived over near the Catholic school, which was out of our district. His mother worked in the school cafeteria, and she likely got permission for his transfer so she could take him with her to work. I saw Larry’s picture in the 1967 annual and I think he was the only boy who had stuck with his crew cut and butch wax; I admire him for that. Some of the dumb girls pestered me to stop wearing my hair like that a year or so earlier.

At Reinhardt, I followed my older brother’s style of having a big waved over front and combed back sides—I’m sure there are better hairdressing terms for that Elvis style. Each August, when our moms surveyed our worn out, too small clothes, they would pack us off for a new set of Lee jeans, a little long but rolled up to allow some growing room, some high top basketball shoes [made of canvas and rubber, not petroleum-made products], or sometimes some Hardys leathers, possibly with taps on the heels.

Larry had an insider’s view of the Reinhardt cafeteria. Those of us who spent seven years there grew to love it. My mother was not a nurturing box lunch maker and most years I bought my lunch everyday. I always had a second and third trip to the hot roll with butter and ice cream counter. My favorite on the weekly menu was a Mexican dish—I think enchilada pie with chips.

In addition to cafeteria workers, we had janitors, who wore dark uniforms and hung out much of the day in a little basement where they had a machine to clean the chalk from the erasers.


Reinhardt janitor room had entrances from right of
stage and also from outside back of auditorium.



We children were organized for other ancillary support duties. One year, I arrived early each day to be on the U.S. and Texas flag raising team. I had learned all about flags because each morning as a class we recited the Pledge of Allegiance and Pledge to the Texas flag.


Circa 50s flagpole base at left of telephone pole. Photo
taken June 11, 2007.


Another year I was on the street patrol, and arrived early, rain or shine, and went to some special storage rooms in front of the auditorium where they stored the crossing flags, guard belts, yellow rain coats and galoshes.


Closet at rear of auditorium.
Taken June 11, 2007.

I never knew the Reinhardt physical plant did not include air-conditioning. If you’ve never had something, I guess you don’t miss it. I vaguely remember a special trip to the film room (I believe the only room in the school that was air conditioned and popular with teachers in late spring). Didn’t they have all kids, divided by sex, attend a special film show of sex education? Did we have to get our mother’s permission?

Schools in our Reinhardt era had to have many special facilities. Children are to be cultivated through activities such as gymnastics, dancing, singing, playing the flutophone, and making art. In Mrs. Keeler’s physical education classroom, we had a gym floor with long benches on three walls. Two days a week, Mrs. Keeler played square dance records and we honed our dancing skills—doing allemande lefts and allemande rights. Once a week or so, we had a special activity where the boys from one side of the room were allowed to rush across the room to select their female partner for the dance. And another day, the girls picked the boys... It sort of allowed the carrying out of a natural pecking order of childhood male-female attraction. On two other days a week, the tumbling mats came out, and we practiced our somersault, backward somersault, cartwheel, spiderwalk and flip. When we were bad, for things like breaking a no talking period, we were required to get down on our knees and place our nose on the stinky bench. This was similar to our bomb drill exercises, in case nuclear warheads came flying toward Reinhardt, when we were required to crouch in a fetal position in the hall in front of the lockers with our hands grasped behind our necks.


Circa 1960. Likely 6th or 7th grade class during tornado
drill. From Reinhardt Library. June 11, 2007.

Mrs. Keeler was outdone in my book by Miss Jones, the music teacher. What I would give to have the songbook from the third grade or so—great Southwest songs like Clementine and Celito Linda, and rounds like Dona Nobis Pacem. What were some of the others? And we all tested our musical instrument skills by being required to purchase and learn to play a flutophone.

In the art classes, what was the thin man’s name—Mr. Mattox?, we learned to use crayons, watercolors, tempura paints, did some ceramic work. I was on a team that created a sculptured model of the human eye and also followed the teacher’s instructions to create a three dimensional piece with geometrical placement of string that hung on the wall in front of the principal’s office for several months.

When it came to having a teacher who was in control, Janie Wilson had to take the prize. One snap of her fingers would bring the entire auditorium to total silence. Janie taught us to have school plays, chorus productions, speeches and much other neat stuff. I was honored to be in an evening production, where all the parents came, where a small group of boys, dressed like Elvis, with turtleneck shirts, sang “Watching All the Girls Go By.” All the moms and dads laughed and thought it was cute.

I was in a used bookstore recently and saw a teacher’s resource manual printed by Dallas ISD in the 50s that laid out their marvelous auditorium teaching curriculum. If the school systems could still recruit such cream-or-the-crop women like Janie Wilson, they should bring that back.
We started most days in the gymnasium. When you walked to school like I did, you tended to congregate on the blacktop or inside the gym if it was raining. Before school, with our backs to the wall, we would throw old volleyballs with cuts for handgrips, trying to smash someone at the other end of the gym, to pass the time before the first bell.

Gym classes were run in a very organized fashion. Boys from each class would line up on the floor behind their class captain and co-captain. The girls were lined up on the other side of the gym. Seems like most days we spent some time in calisthenics, Mr. Gerber leading the boys and Miss Moore the girls. We would do sit-ups, arm rolls—boy that really made your arms tired—push ups, leg lifts and other neat exercises.

One of the biggest surprises was a day in the sixth grade or so when Mr. Gerber had all us boys compete in a strength test. One of the activities was to climb the monkey bars. Steve, who had never been a great athlete, was the strongest boy in the class. He was to the top of those monkey bars in an instant. I could only get up to the fourth or fifth bar. So it goes that our childhood bodies distinguished and differentiated us once again.

Each year in the spring, we had the big outdoor field day where each class competed for ribbons—blue for first place, red for second place and gold for third place, in events such as standing broad jump, running broad jump, free throw and hundred yard dash.

If I were ever to go back to Reinhardt for a visit, I would want to go back on Carnival night. The PTA moms put on this big shindig in the fall, I think around Halloween. Each classroom was set up with fun activities like apple bobbing, cakewalk, and darts. They always had a scary room, I think in the art room, where you did scary, nasty thinks like put your hand into a hole and into something nasty like spaghetti. Seems like they also had a big bake sale so we went home with some great cakes and cookies.

We had fun on Valentines Day too. Everyone would make a sack and tape it to the wall. We would all post our Valentines, then read through the cards and messages in our sack. I one year received a very special valentine from Priscilla McClure. I think she must have been sweet on me.

We Reinhardt kids were fortunate to have many intelligent and dedicated men and women teachers and a really fine school system as well as many baby boom cohorts whom we can remember—45 or so years later--with fondness and generosity for each and every one.

Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Julie Jenkins BowlingDate: 5/16/2007 1:16 pm

Do you remember the girl in Mr. Maddox room who hurt her leg on the window while cleaning and had to have Mr. Bolton the janitor carry her to the nurses office just before the end of the year? that was me. I remember Mrs. Ripley looked like Olive Oil, but back in thoses days we did not know who Olive Oil was...I remember all the memories you recanted and we lived a much easier time, we just did not realize it at the time. We had all that we needed and wanted at the time. We had more of our parents attention than children of today, times are sooo much more stressful for our kids' kids. Remembering the "good ole days" calms and soothes me. Thanks for reminding us to look back at that time of our lives.

Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Steve WilenskyDate: 5/16/2007 9:25 pm

Why Don Hancock, you old...... Your reminiscing just ripped apart old long-buried scar tissue. You see, your eloquent use of the word "crap" just happened to catch my fancy in the 4th grade. I was very proud of the addition of a new word to my vocabulary and was equally proud to use when the opportunity presented itself. Well it seemed that one particular opportunity occurred in Mrs. Keeling's class ( I probably was frustrated that I could not execute the basic cartwheel for the jillionth time). Well, Mrs. Keeling was not as impressed with my word choice as I was. One of the unfortunate occurences of having your father precede you in the school you attend is that too many teachers know too much about you. Mrs. Keeling's response was not to reprimand on the spot. No, she knew of a much more dastardly punishment. She called home. When I arrived after school I received a generous double-header of a bar of soap which my sainted mother use to so disinfect my mouth, I blew bubbles until the 6th grade. The nightcap was reserved until my father returned home whereupon he practiced his forehand volley with his special paddle and my derriere masquerading as a tennis ball. Sadly, I was unable to return any of his shots. So thanks, Don, I was having a rather nice day.

Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Steve WebbDate: 5/16/2007 10:08 pm

Well, since we're on Mrs. Keeling's case, did any of you have the "pleasure" of her sitting on your head while she had you place your nose on the "stinky" bench? That was one of her SPECIAL tortures if you continued to speak while on your knees, nose down! It only took one occassion of this sort to make a believer of me! Is it too late to call Child Protective Services?? Steve, your parents and mine must have read the same child-rearing books. If I got in trouble at school, I also got a double dose of punishment at home. Man, it was enough to keep us in line - usually...


Stephen Webb, age 58, with nose
to stinky bench. The old PE room
has other uses but a bench sits in hallway
in front of office, painted Ram's blue
over the original walnut finish.
Taken June 11, 2007.


Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Don HancockDate: 5/16/2007 10:42 pm

Steve, when I taught kids new words like that, I also thought I always told them not to use them in front of the teacher. I may not have got through that unscathed. It seems that during that time I was asked by Mr Gerber to walk out for a little conference on one of the playing fields. He told me he had several reports of my bad behavior and I better straighten up or else. This man-to-man talk sounds infinitely milder than what you received from your parents.

Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Steve BeeneDate: 5/19/2007 3:42 am

Boy have you brought back the memories...and I do remember climbing up the monkey bars.... What really was a hoot was years later when Webb and several others of us all got season tickets to the Opera with Ms Wilson and Ms Moore. It is hard to go out for drinks with someone who could make you freeze simply by pointing their finger at you.....


Photo taken June 11, 2007.

Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Don HancockDate: 5/19/2007 8:04 pm

I would have loved to have seen those two. In my earlier message, I mentioned Janie Wilson’s finger snap (I use her first name because I don’t remember if she was a Miss or a Mrs.). I really think she preferred to use a triple meter fanfare motif—SNAP, SNAP, SNAP—which reverberated through the auditorium space and jarred our childhood brains to attention. It’s a mystery how she so effortlessly was able to condition so many thousands of little minds that went through that school. Is it my imagination that she also pinched children who were bad?

Subject: RE: Reinhardt memories
Author: Lynne Barber DavisDate: 5/19/2007 10:39 pm

Indeed she did pinch. I used to be one of the privileged few who were couriers between Miss Wilson, Miss Moore, and Mrs. Keeler. It always amused me to no end to see that Miss Wilson called Mrs. Keeler "Tootsie".