The Rolla Boys™-Chapter 8-B

Football played a significant role in my childhood between the ages of about 9 and 15. I acquired my first "genuine leather" football for Christmas in 1969. It was an official Ted Williams signature brand and it came from our local Sears Catalog store, located on Kings Highway-now a Chevrolet dealership. Ted Williams was a baseball player, but in the 60's Sears and Roebuck paid Ted for the use of his name and apparently put it on all of their sporting goods related merchandise until celebrities like Martha Stewart and Oprah Winfrey came along. I'm not an expert on Sears, but my Mom worked there for about 25 years, so and I recall a fair amount of related details.
I received a football helmet that same Christmas which also came from Sears. It was white with double red stripes running front to back down the center of the helmet. I was the only kid in our neighborhood with a helmet and the other kids sometimes complained if I wore it during one of our frequent games in Jim Ballentine's back yard. Apparently, it put them at a competitive disadvantage if I wasn't as concerned as they were about running head first into one of Mrs. Ballentine's 2 cast iron clothes line poles. My Ted Williams football, however, was a huge hit. I couldn't begin to count the number of touchdowns scored with that football-probably a thousand or more.
Before the Christmas of 1969, we played neighborhood ball with Ballentine's Voit football, made from extra hard industrial strength synthetic rubber. Jim's Mom was a gym teacher at the high school and his Dad was the Vice Principal as well as a former coach. As a result, they always had plenty of sporting equipment laying around. I don't know for sure where they got that darn football, but when Big Jim wound up and whacked you in the head with it at point blank range, you didn't forget it!
When we were kids, my little brother Mark and I used to play in the side yard at our Uncle Pat and Aunt Katherine's house in Jefferson City. I was 4 years older and a lot bigger at the time, so I'd play on my knees to make it more fair.
Unlike most towns today where kids start playing full contact football as soon as they can walk, we didn't have tackle football in Rolla until the 7th grade. We did have intramural flag football that pitted the 3 primary local elementary schools against each other in interscholastic competition (I heard about other ancillary elementary schools in Rolla like Eugene Field and Benton, but no one I knew attended either of these schools or even knew for sure whether or not the schools actually existed).
There were 2 flag football leagues-5th grade and 6th grade. We played several games each Fall at Green Acres Park, located just down from the main cemetary and across the street from the Delano gas station.
As a side note, the Delano gas station was owned and operated by the oldest set of twins I'd ever came across while growing up. These 2 guys were probably in their mid 30's at the time I started driving. I'd stop in every few days to put 5 or 6 bucks worth of gas in my car at their self service pump-a relatively new idea in 1975. I don't know what I thought became of twins when they grew up, but apparently I thought they stopped looking like each other. These guys didn't stop.
At the end of the elementary football season, the championship games were played at the high school under the lights There was a 5th grade boys championship and the 6th grade boys championship (girls were not allowed to play organized football in the 70's and boys were not allowed to play with dolls-unless of course the dolls were GI Joe or Johnny West and you didn't get caught playing with one past the 3rd grade or so).
Aside from a few basketball tournament title games, the only championship game I was ever personally a part of, was the "Rolla Elementary School 6th grade Intramural Flag Football Championship of 1971". As a young kid I'd watched several high school football games sitting under the lights at Lions Memorial Field and dreaming of some day myself being out there. I'll never forget the feeling of running out under those lights in front of my Mom and Dad, brothers, a small handful of class mates, and the parents of some of my friends. From the perspective of a 12 year old small town kid, I felt like The Rolla Boys and I were on a big time stage that night. I'm confident Johnny Unitas couldn't have felt much differently when he ran out onto the field at the Orange Bowl in Super Bowl V of that same year.
As if things could possibly get any better for me that night, I caught a long touchdown pass in the second half from our quarterback Randy Warrenton (it's my understanding that Randy still holds a tie with my brother Larry for being the biggest kid in history to graduate from Fort Wyman Elementary). Randy could throw the ball a mile as well as run like the wind. He probably could have just ran the ball himself and scored on every other play, but taking his Que from Broadway Joe "Willy" Namoth of the New York Jets, he knew there was more glamour in throwing the ball than in running it. As a result, he threw the ball a big part of the time. This wasn't good for our running backs Beaver Moses and Rick Milner, but they caught their fair share of passes as I recall.
I caught the ball on the run over my shoulder and when I looked down field I saw only one kid between me and the end zone. I'll never forget the look on his face as he focussed all his attention on the two red flags flapping in the wind from the belt around my waist. He was wearing gloves and a stocking cap and as I tried to run around him, he fell down on his knees and reached out with both hands, grabbing at my flags. It felt like he pulled both of them loose but I didn't hear Coach Wilson or Coach Whitick blow their whistle, so I kept running. When I hit the end zone and realized both of my flags were in tact, I couldn't believe it. I had actually scored a touch down in the Championship game, and it was an awesome feeling. I recall running back to the guys and jumping around giving each other "5's" (not high 5's as the high 5 wouldn't be invented for several more years-just the original old horizontal 5) and it was wonderful! It was the coolest thing to happen to me personally in my budding sports career.
The score went back and forth the entire game and late in the 4th quarter we found ourselves down by less than a touchdown (we didn't kick field goals in Rolla grade school football, so each extra point attempt was either a run or a pass).
It was a classic ending. We had the ball on about their 15 yard line, with just enough time on the clock for one final play. Randy of course called a pass-the classic "Everyone out", which in our play book meant everyone except the center and maybe the guards went out for a pass. The open man that night wound up being my old buddy, Larry Hodgey. Randy yelled out the predictable, "Down, set, hut" and we all took off running in the basic direction he told us to while we were in the huddle. I was covered and apparently so were Beaver, Rick, David and Shorty Harris. As I ran around on the left side of the end zone trying in vain to get open, I looked over and saw Larry standing there in the middle of the end zone absolutely wide open. Randy rared back and let fly with one of the sweetest spirals I'd ever seen him throw. The ball sailed threw the air as if on a rope. The perfect pass from my old buddy Randy, hit the sure handed Hodgey right in the middle of his chest. Oh the sweet, sweet feel of victory. How the Wyman girls would swoon and fawn the next day at school (and maybe even a few Mark Twain girls the next time we went to a show at 'The Uptown Theater'). I would probably have my choice between "going with" the famous Carrie Milner or the fabulous Vicki Volts. We'd be league champions of the Rolla Elementary grid iron. All those days playing football down on 'The Field' were now finally paying off. But these visions of granduer would prove to be premature. Randy's perfect pass hit Larry in the middle of his chest. As he attempted to wrap the ball up in his 11 year old arms, it bounced threw his hands and fell slowly but surly to the ground immediately at his feet.
The whislte blew, the other team started their championship celebration and poor Larry stood there, dejected and stairing at the dead ball laying on the end zone turf immediately at his feet. We just walked off the field, without fan fair and without saying anything. The first loss of our final season of elementary school flag football began to sink in.
It would'nt be the last time we'd taste the agony of defeat in an interscholastic event. But up to that moment, it was the most gut wrenching loss any of us had experienced in sports competition.
The Rolla Boys went through a character building experience that evening, and we all lived to tell about it. I wonder how many of my old buddies remember our championship game, on that fall evening of 1971? I don't think I'll ever forget it!

The Rolla Boys™-Chapter 8

It wasn't long before we heard a vehicle rumbling up the drive. Howard had called to let us know he and Cool wouldn't be in until sometime around 9 p.m., so we knew it must be our good old friend Vic DaWatt from Denver. The last time either of us had seen Vic was 5 years earlier at our 20 year high school reunion in Rolla. We were looking forward to spending a couple days listening to tales of Vic's former grid iron escapades at RHS and William Jewel College, where Vic played football for 4 years and occasionally attended a class.
When I'd contacted Vic a couple months earlier about coming down, I honestly figured he wouldn't make it. Vic lives in Denver, Colorado with his lovely wife Karen and their 2 boys, where Vic is Director of Admissions for a prestigious university. With busy work schedules, family activities and the logistics of getting from Denver to Barry County, I just figured something would come up at the last minute that would keep him from attending our get together. But there he was in his sock footed sandals, climbing out of the Chevy Cobalt he'd rented in Springfield, Missouri. As always, he looked relatively awake, very relaxed, and ready for a weekend of no plans and no expectations.
We unloaded Vic's car and put his bags inside the cabin next to the gun safe. After a quick stop off at the commode, Vic found an empty chair on the deck where he, Beav and I spent the next couple hours eating Ranch Chile, drinking mostly non-alcoholic beverages, and catching up on what had been going on recently in our individual world's.
The subject came up of how Beav and I had first met Victor, and we both remembered it vividly. I first became aware of Vic DaWatt's existence on the 15th day of August, 1973-the first day you could legally start torturing kids in the state of Missouri under the guise of "football practice". It was also the day we met the new rookie football coach for the Rolla Junior High Bull Pups, Coach Theodore Arthur. I don't know who impressed me more; the new kid from Springfield who would quickly become the new star running back for our 8th grade football team, or the new Coach, who would eventually become the Principle at our old Junior High School. In any event, both these guys were cool and in their individual ways made great additions that summer to my ever changing 13 year old world.

The Rolla Boys™-Chapter 7

As Beave and I relaxed on the deck awaiting the arrival of Victor, Kevin and Howard, we continued sharing stories about our youth. Recalling our days at Wyman, we talked about how much we enjoyed running around on the asphalt playground, littered with a broad assortment of metal objects and structures, placed strategically by the custodial staff to maximize tripping and falling. We actually had a piece of play ground equipment called THE TOWER. It was a 15 foot tall metal structure made out of World War II scrap metal purchased from Warren Deany's local military surplus yard, and painted a brilliant crimson red (apparently it was painted red so when kids fell off of it and busted their heads open, the blood wouldn't leave discernible stains on the equipment). The tower steps were comprised of rusty, sagging metal chains bolted to the tower legs. The chains made it somewhat difficult for even the non chubby kids to climb the full 15 feet to the top. If you did manage to complete the dangerous climb and pull yourself up onto the platform before one of the 6th graders could push you off, you had a 360 degree view of the entire school grounds, including "The Field".
The Field was where we played tackle football during recess (for you younger folks, back in the 60's in Rolla, Missouri, you could get away with playing tackle football in grade school without pads, without helmets, and without the fear of getting sued for accidently knocking out another kids tooth or breaking his collar bone). Kids were tough back then, as evidenced by the actions of my friend Gordon Startle who played recess football with his arm in a cast (I think he broke it falling off the tower). He cold cocked me with it one time during an after lunch game, which resulted in the only serious fight I personally ever found myself in while attending Wyman. Neither of us landed a hard punch and we were friends again by the time the bell rang to come back inside.
When I think about the asphalt playground; the tower; the pole; the highly feared 15 foot tall curvey apparatus with horizontal bars for climbing up and over (which only 9 guys were ever able to do without having to be "sent up" to see the school nurse to have a few stitches put in their scrotum); the 13 foot long by 8 inch tall metal balance beam (the number 1 tripping hazard for grade school kids in the 60's, designed by dentist and pediatritions); the vertical 4 foot cast iron poles for jumping over with the objective of not racking yourself to death, and the 40 foot slide surrounded by ashpalt and concrete, it strikes me that our grade school playground 'then' closely resembles the training course used 'now' by the Navy Seals. Man how things have changed.

The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 6-B

I should note that Miss McCutcheon was actually more than a pretty face-she was an all around excellent 4th grade teacher. I'm confident I learned as much that school year as I did any other. In addition to the teachers I personally had at Fort Wyman, we were fortunate to have a number of other fine teachers as well-teachers like Mrs. Wixon; Miss Woods; Mrs. Beyers; Mrs. Wright; Miss VanBibber; Mrs. Barry; Mrs. Jones; Mrs. Whitney; our music teacher Mrs. Vickers, and of course that doggone school nurse I was so deathly afraid of. I spent the better part of 5 years of my life hiding from that woman. Our school nurse actually wore a white, standard issue hospital nurses dress uniform, carried an assortment of tongue depressors in her pocket (which she was apparently authorized to shove in your mouth for any reason and at anytime she saw fit), wore a stethoscope around her neck, and if that wasn't enough to scare you to death, she topped all that off with one of those old style nurses hats-you know, like the ones they used to wear on General Hospital. If you were "sent up" to see her one on one, it probably meant one of 3 things: she was going to give you a shot, pull a tooth, or stitch up your scrotum. I can't for my life recall her name, but I'll never forget her face, or that ever present smell of alcohol (isopropyl-not Jack Danials). And I can tell you this: she could clear a hallway of an unauthorized gathering faster than Mrs. Wixon with her 3 foot long paddle with holes (the one she kept in the coat closet). The only thing that worked faster at clearing a room than sending in the school nurse, was for someone to yell out, "Double Recess".... and I think that only happened once.

The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 6

Wyman Elementary School is where I met and became life long friends with not only Beaver Moses, but also the likes of Rick Milner, Randy Warrenton, Larry Hodgey and a host of other Goomers, most of whom I've had only speratic contact with since our years in Rolla. I started school at Wyman Elementary in the 2nd grade in 1967, after having spent 2 years across town in the 1st grade at Mark Twain (actually Mark Twain Elementary was a fine school, but old loyalties die hard and I'll always be a Wyman man at heart).

I loved all my teachers in grade school, starting with Miss Gribz in the 2nd grade; Mrs. Shackelford in the 3rd; as mentioned Miss McCutcheon in 4th; Mrs. Rutherford in the 5th, and finally, Mrs. Less in the 6th (her son David was one of my good friends and a nice school "asset" when good plans went afoul).

Elementary school was great for most if not all of the Rolla Boys as far as I know, but I find myself remembering the 4th grade as one of those moments in time. It was essentially "Elementary Camelot". Not only were Beaver, Rick, Randy, Larry, Steve Patter, Brent Moyerstone, Harold Dunnstreet, Tommy Williamson, Shorty Harris and David Lester in my class, we also had a host of pretty girls like Gretchen Fine, Vickie Volts, Carrie Milner and numerous others. The fact we had a teacher who was surly the prettiest and nicest teacher in the 8 state area, was a major bonus. I don't remember voting on the issue of how "Hot" Miss McCutcheon was, but if we had, I'm pretty sure we would have voted her "The Teacher Most Likely To Be Fantisized About" in junior high. As memory serves me, this was her first teaching assignment out of College. Not that it mattered to us-I don't think we would have cared whether or not she could read or write, as long as she stood in front of the class every day and let us look at her and watch her talk.

She actually could read, however, and did just that for about 10 minutes or so nearly every afternoon when we finished up with lunch and recess. One of the books I vividly recall her reading to the class was Charlotte's Web, by acclaimed author E.B. White. I remember her in a mini-skirt standing in front of the class reading that darn book. (I can't be certain how often Miss McCutcheon wore a mini skirt to school, but I know for sure she did on at least one occasion-it was blue.) All the while she displayed perfect posture and her signature dimpled smile. To our amusement, she would often times laugh out loud at the antics of Wilbur the pig, Charlotte the spider and Templeton the rat.

I've often wondered whether or not she realized at the time the lasting impact she'd have on the kids she taught that school year; those who were fortunate enough to be drafted into her inaugural 4th grade class in the late Summer of 1969. I know she had a profound impact on me. If I live to be a hundred, I'll never forget that blue dress!

The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 5

"Russell D, ya Ol' Codger-man it's good to see ya", yelled the Beav as he jumped out of his Jinx mobile before it had a chance to come to a complete stop.
Steven Ray Moses had picked up more than one mannerism from his Dad Lou while growing up on Lynwood Drive, in a home that had perhaps the coolest and now most storied basement in all of Phelps County. One of those mannerisms was saying things like, "You old codger" or "You old farmer". If I live to be a hundred, I'll always remember Lou Moses making me feel welcome at their home every single one of the hundreds of times I visited there, beginning when Beav's Mom Jeanine was my Cub Scout Den Mother in 1967, and ending as I recall sometime in the fall of 1977, around the beginning of our senior year at RHS. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I spent the night at the Moses home, played touch football in their sloped and relatively short back yard, or stopped by on Friday nights to pick up the Beav before heading off to watch the latest John Wayne movie at "The Uptown Theater", or to get pizza at Tim's in preparation for cruising the strip to look for girls; girls as I recall we seemed to rarely find. I don't know for sure where all the girls were when we went looking for them in 1975-1978, but apparently they were someplace other than anxiously waiting along Pine Street for us to come driving by so they could jump in our car and throw themselves at us. Although this is how I envisioned it when I was 14 and dreaming about "getting my license", I don't recall it ever actually happening-not even one time. Though at the time, our consistent inability to find girls was frustrating, I know now I'd rather have all the other wonderful memories of growing up in Rolla, such as those that involved the Moses family, who resided very happily all those years at 1127 Lynwood Drive.
After exchanging welcomes and good to see you's at the front gate, I hopped on my 4-wheeler and told Beav to follow me back to the cabin. I took it kind of slow on our way in to give my old buddy a good look around at our little slice of woodland pie, beautifully situated essentially in the middle of Barry County nowhere.
We arrived at the cabin within a short couple of minutes, with enough daylight remaining to get my old buddy unloaded, shown around and situated with a steaming hot cup of "Black as the Ace of Spades Ranch Coffee", before the sun began it's nightly descent on Butler Holler.
As I stood in the kitchen slicing onions, opening cans of tomato sauce and kidney beans, and browning vast quantities of extra fat hamburger, Beav and I began updating each other on the various going's on in our respective lives over the past several years. It takes a while to prepare a near perfect pot of Ranch Chili, and as I diced, sliced and stirred, we shared stories and opinions on a wide variety of subjects; everything from how great each of our wives were, to how proud we both were of our kids and numerous other topics pertaining to family life and related matters. It didn't take long however, for the two of us to find our way to the front deck and for our conversation to find it's way back to the specific time in history, when we actually started becoming good friends. As we both fondly recalled, It was the day after Labor Day, Tuesday September 2, 1969. The specific place was what became our mutual 4th grade class at Fort Wyman Elementary School (a veritable bastion of decency and All-Americanism).
Although I didn't realize it on that hot September morning as I said good-by to Mr. Davis and stepped off bus #11 before walking through the front door of my school, as I'd done numerous times the previous 2 years, this would not be a normal first day of school. It was a day that would go down in the personal history of several Rolla Boys as perhaps their most significant first day of school ever. This was the day a very select group of 9 year old snot nosed boys became, in their eyes, men. It was the day we all met our new 4th grade teacher; the fabulously beautiful and very sophisticated, Miss Caroline McCutcheon. Upon seeing her for the first time, I knew immediately, she definitely was NOT my Dad's 4th grade teacher!