Woke up this morning, Nickerson on my mind.

That should be a country western song!  Woke up this morning, you were on my mind.  Forget who sang that, but this morning I woke up remembering when I was a little girl in Nickerson, Kansas and for some reason I was remembering the layout of the school and the lunch room.  Lunch room?  Who am I kidding?  The school was a red brick which was 2 stories tall.  There were 4 double doors to get into the school; two in front and two in back.  Face the school and on your left was the main entrance.

Well, here I made a little sketch of it.  It is not drawn to scale, but let me tell you, on top is the bottom floor.  See you come in the main entrance which is the upper left corner.  On your right is the first grade room.  I remember the alphabet marching above the black board.  But that is not why we are here.  See that hallway running down the middle?  See that table and those benches?  That was the lunch room.  At the end of the hall was the kitchen, restrooms and janitor.  Here was the heart of the school as far as I could tell!
Now this is what I looked like back then.  This is actually my mother, but even today I could pass for her.  Look at those shoes!   Button ups!  I wore brown Buster Browns.  Remember that ad?  "Arf!" then "That's my dog Tide.  He lives in a shoe.  I'm Buster Brown, look for me in there too!"  They came in two colors.  Black and Brown.  I mean you could get a pair of Black shoes or a pair of brown shoes.  In later years they introduced white and then combined white with them and the Saddle Oxford was born!  That is a whole nuther story.

Ah, the kitchen!  When we arrived at school the ladies were all ready at work cooking.  Mrs. Ritchie was the cook and her brother-in-law, Mr. Ritchie was the janitor.  I think that was right.  In later years, I think he committed suicide.  I recall her as a short, kind of heavy, very sweet lady.  He was always very kind.  Anyway, at the appointed time the kids were allowed to file past the end of the table and pick up their plates and a carton of milk.  (I think it was actually still in glass bottles at that time.)  That was if you could afford the meals.  If not you took your lunch sack, pail, or box and set at the far end of the table.  Seems like the far end was always more populated than the hot meal kids. Although I remember eating hot meals there, so it must have happened a  time or two any way.  I know I carried my lunch in a paper bag which I must be sure to bring home.  Do not remember what I ate, but I do remember that meat was a rarity and peanut butter was a real treat!  And bread was a nickle a loaf!  (I also remember being very jealous of the kids who had the fancy tin lunch boxes.  And today they sell on eBay like gold!)
And another thing, showing that the government was always taking care of us was that once a month, in the middle of the morning, we were sent down to the tables where we were given a paper cup full of orange juice.  This was given to us so we got out vitamin c and did not develop Rickets or some such incurable disease.  I am sure that the one glass of orange juice once a month was the only thing standing between me and being dead today!  But it sure was good orange juice, and the only time we ever had it!
Now a lunch room is a far different thing.  No way would kids be allowed to eat in the hallway.  I know when they were building the new grade school in Nickerson, one of the selling factors was that it would have a lunch room!  Course it was built after I left grade school, so I never got to see it.
Another thing that stands out in my mind is the music room.  It was at the head of the stairs and very small.  There were shades on the windows that were designed to block out light or to keep light from escaping.  This was in case the Germans or Japanese or  some one came and bombed us.  I do not think we ever used them, but you just never knew back then what might transpire.  Early in my school days, the district purchased an older frame school building and moved it to the property and it became our new Music Room.  When it was time for music we marched single file out the door, across the school yard (being careful to stay on the side walk so as not to step on any of the weeds.), and into the music building, which was very big and very airy and we loved it.  Miss Barkiss was our teacher and some years later she would marry David Houston, son of the principal of our school.  That is all I know about that!
I do remember the last day of school was always cause for celebration.  We would be full of anticipation for the coming summer, but we would be sad because we would not see our friends.  Seems people did not visit then like they do now.  Oh I would walk over to my best friend, Barbara Hawk's house and we would play, but that was a long ways over there and when I left she would walk me half way home.  But school ending was always a big deal.  We may have had a picnic!  I think we did!  And the band would play and we would listen. And my eighth grade year which was my last, a bird flew over and pooped right on Gay as she played her Clarinet and she did not even wince, just kept right on playing!  Always admired her for that though I never told her so.
I often wonder about my teachers. Miss Donough  was first grade and she married a guy I think was named Breece in the middle of the year.  Mrs. Wait was second grade, Miss Holmes was third,  Mrs. Howe was fourth.  (She got a thorn in her intestine and almost died.)  Miss Swenson was 5th, Miss Lauver was sixth, Mr. Bollinger was 7th and Mr. Schriber was 8th.  At least that is how it goes in my mind.  Nobody ever quit.  Nobody ever got fired.  Nobody ever molested anybody and as far as I know they are still all there in Nickerson, Kansas where I left them.  Mr. Bollinger owned the movie theater and tickets were 7 cents.  It was open on Friday night and Saturday afternoon.
When I was in 4th grade Aunt Helen came and enrolled me in Brownies, which was the precursor to Girl Scouts.  Bought me a brownie dress and hat.  She was very rich and had no kids.  Her brother was Frank Wocknitz who made bologna named "Tony's Bologna" and it was the only kind we ever ate and was carried by both grocery stores.  Lord only knew what was in that other bologna.  And when he died, that was the end of the business cause he took the recipe to the grave.
Well, I could gas all day long here, but I need to get busy.  The memory is a wonderful thing.  I am sure mine is accurate.  But if it isn't one of two things will happen; either someone will email me with their memory or they will say, " Oh, I had forgotten that!  I am so glad she remembered!"  But if there is anyone out there who remembers my good old days, and me, give me a holler.  We will have a great visit, if we remember why we came.