Blue frosting.

 

Mom shifted into a lower gear as we rounded yet another corner, while driving to school, on the slick, snow covered road.  It was snowing and blowing so hard, that the wipers had a hard time keeping the windshield clean.  Almost, as if out of nowhere a shadowy figure appeared on the roadside.  As we got closer we could see that it was a young girl.  She was bundled against the cold wind, wearing a coat much to large for her.  A scarf was wrapped around her head and tied under her chin.  She walked slowly as the boots she wore seemed too large for her feet.  She immediately moved off the road into the bar pit.  Mom stopped the car and I rolled down the window to ask if she wanted a ride.  She moved farther away from our car, shaking her head from side to side, it became very apparent that she wouldn’t accept a ride from us.  

My Mom was driving me to Wood Grove, a one room school that I attended for the next five years.  It was December 1950.  I was eight years old, in the third grade and we recently moved from Porterville, Utah to Lake Fork, Idaho. Wood Grove, truly a one room school, with only twelve students.  Students of all ages sat in the rows of desks filling the room. The teacher sat in a desk at the front of the room and black boards covered the wall directly behind her.  Windows lined a wall and a piano stood on the other side of the room.  A large pot belly stove, radiating heat, filled an entire corner.  Freshly split wood stacked nearby, and coats hung to dry behind the stove.  Boots, mittens and caps lay strewn on the floor.  The smell of wet wool permeated the air.

I quickly removed my outer layer of clothing, while the teacher arranged a desk next to the wall for me to sit in.  I sat down behind a boy, with blond hair, named Jimmy, also in third grade.  Just then the door opened and in walked the girl, we had seen on the roadway.  She sat in the desk behind me. I soon learned that her name was Connie and everyday, she walked over a mile to school, in any kind of weather. 

  Connie was a very shy girl and hadn’t been around a lot of people. When spoken to, she would duck her head and turn away. Homes were far apart in this valley, so it was not easy to socialize.   All the families were poor farmers, loggers or mill workers. No one wore expensive clothes and most of the kids rode horseback or walked to school. Wool was the best choice for winter and the Finish people were always knitting socks, sweaters, hats and gloves. In the summer all of us rode bicycles or walked to school.  By my second year in school at Wood Grove, Connie and I had became best friends.

  

I learned that her mother seldom left their house and didn’t drive.  Her father, worked at the local saw mill. She had an older brother, named James. Connie’s family lived on a small acreage with outbuildings for their cow and chickens. Their house was a small two story building with an outdoor toilet nearby.  I spent many hours and sometimes overnight at their home playing with Connie.  I ate meals with them and liked visiting there.  One thing I remember vividly is a 9 X 12 dark chocolate cake, with bright blue frosting.  It is the only dessert I remember and we had it many times when I went there to play.  I wonder if it was something Mrs. Thompson made to add color to her days.  

Mrs. Thompson worked very hard, and kept their house spotlessly clean.  Not easy to do since their house lacked electricity and running water.  She hauled water and heated it on the wood stove for cooking, bathing, laundry and cleaning.  She ironed the families clothes with irons heated on the wood stove and they read using kerosene lanterns. Her name was Madeline and I thought that was a beautiful name.

Connie lived about two miles away and I would ride my bike there, and we would play house all day.  We labored for hours making mud pies in all shapes and sizes. Family dogs, stretched out in the sun, watching us while we pretended to cook lunch for them.  It took very little to keep us entertained, our imagination providing us everything that we needed. Television had been invented, but not available in Valley County.

Connie spent many days and nights at my house and with my family.  It gave her the opportunity to socialize with my larger extended family and in the process I think she became more outgoing and gained self confidence. She lost some of the shyness. 

I remember my years at Wood Grove as a special part of my life.  The 50‘s were a wonderful time to grow up.  As farm kids we all worked hard, doing the endless chores, milking cows, feeding bummer lambs and calves.    Our lives were uncomplicated and our freedom was endless. The five years at Wood Grove School passed quickly.