Thanks For the Memories, Wauchula Part 5

And now the 5th and final installment from Harry E. Mann, Author of some of the memories growing up in Central Florida.

In my senior year, I discovered I had a gift for public speaking, once I got over my initial fear of facing the class.  It really came in handy later when I discovered, much to my surprise, a call to the Christian ministry.  Typing in my senior year was another subject that bore fruit for a lifetime.  I used typing the year after high school when I was learning to be a bookkeeper, as an Air Force Radio operator, to revise college notes, and all the years of my career to write sermons.  I can't think of another course that has been of more practical benefits than touch typing.

As I approached graduation, college seemed to be impossible for me.  My family was large and our income was small.  I had worked part-time from the age of 12 to pay for my school clothes, school supplies, and spending money.  In May of my junior year I enlisted in the Army National Guard battery at Avon Park and began to think of a career in the military.  Wauchula Elementary School and Hardee High School had opened to me a wide world of adventure, and I intended to see that world courtesy of the United States Air Force.  

On June 3, 1957 I graduated with my class, and the next day I boarded a Trailways bus for the induction center at Jacksonville.  As the bus rolled through town, I took one last look at the place that had shaped my life.  I had many memories of growing up there—of education, religious training, friends, playing trombone in the band, talent shows, camping trips with the Boy Scouts--and all I could think was, thanks for the memories, Wauchula.  I'm off to see the world.

Thanks for the Memories, Wauchula - Part 4

Seventh and eighth grade hold a couple of treasured memories for me.  In seventh grade social studies class, the father of one of the boys, Curtis Wilson, offered to take several of his son's classmates on a trip to Sarasota and the beach and come home by way of Highlands Hammock State Park.  I only realized later that Miss Jessie chose those of us whose parents probably couldn't afford to take us on such a jaunt.  Our payment for the good time at the beach was to write up the trip and give an oral report.  The memory of that trip warms my heart to this very day.

In eighth grade English I was blessed to be assigned to Miss Jessie's sister-in-law, Mrs. Exie Cathcart.  Mrs. Exie drilled us in declining nouns, conjugating verbs, and diagramming sentences.  She gave us such a good foundation in English grammar that the professor in my college freshman English class often called on me to help clarify a point of grammar.  Thankfully, I had just taken a refresher course at my Air Force base in Japan to get ready for college.  I hope this article pays her the tribute she so richly deserves.

I had always been an A and B student at school (except in conduct) until my sophomore year.  That year I learned I wasn't cut out for higher math and turned to ag-class for my final science.  I also learned I wasn't cut out to be a farmer either—too much hard work and my citrus seeds failed to come up.  However, in English lit class I shined.  Miss Louise Southerland actually encouraged us to talk in class.

**********Part 5 Coming Soon**********

Thanks for the Memories, Wauchula - Part 3

If I recounted all my adventures on the “little side,” there wouldn't be room enough in the memoir, so I'll invite you to join me for a few memories of the second four grades.

It was a proud day when I was promoted to fifth grade and the “big side.”   For recess and physical education, we had a clay basketball court and the chinning bars.  I also lost a lot of marbles playing for keeps.  A lot happened in those four years, but I just want to mention a couple of things.  My most memorable grade was Mrs. MacDonald's fifth grade class.  One day one of the boys brought to class a beautiful white model sailboat.  During activity period, Mrs. Mac asked him to pass it around and let everyone get a good look.  One of the boys, Johnny Rhoden, colored the boat with a red crayon.   When his artwork was discovered, Mrs. MacDonald said, “Johnny, how would you like someone to do that to your property?”

“Well, Mrs. MacDonald,' he answered, “you've made some of my property red.”

Mrs. Mac burst into laughter and said, “Johnny, you always have to get the last word, don't you?”

Wauchula was blessed in the 40s and 50s to have not only a walk-in theatre but a drive-in theatre as well.  My other most memorable event that year was the talent show between the double feature on Friday night one week at the walk-in movie.  All week long one of the girls practiced singing a country song and yodeling at activity period.  

I'd been a singer all my life, and I thought I could do just as well.  So Friday night before the first feature, I screwed up my courage and found the manager of the theatre.  “I'd like to be in the talent show tonight.”

“Okay,” he said, and added my name to his list.

When the show began, several acts performed, including the young lady from my class.  Finally the master of ceremonies, I believe Albert Lane, called my name.

With some trepidation I made my way out on the stage and sang, without accompaniment, “There's a Tree in the Meadow.”  I was shocked when the audience, by their applause, awarded me third prize.  I had been stagestruck since my small speaking part in the first grade play.  Now I began dreaming of Hollywood.  I wish I could say I was sorry my classmate didn't win a prize, but I'm afraid my ego was too out-sized after my own triumph.  My dad bragged about my win to everyone he met that week, and I bathed in his praise.

***********Part 4 Coming Soon***********