Photo - Moscow Mountains and Palouse Fields by Alison Meyer
From: Ken Caldwell - April 18, 2019 - Remembering Wayne Marshall
|From: Velda Marshall Carlson:
Remember Mr Stephenson, the sience teacher in Junior high? Poor guy, we gave him lynigitis and he guit teaching.
|From: I would prefer to remain anonymous
Two score years and forty-nine days ago we were involved in the culminating act of our years together in the Moscow School system. Graduation!!! I had to look in my old Bear Tracks to find that Dean Phillip C. Petersen delivered the commencement address, but boy, I'm hard pressed to remember what he said. I do remember singing "No Man Is an Island" with the Choralaires , under the direction of H. James Schoepflin. And I have a vague memory of walking across the stage, shaking someone's hand and receiving a diploma. I've heard it said that if you remember the '60s you weren't there, maybe I was only half there.
I do remember in the sixth grade in the Whitworth School (1912 building) that it was more interesting watching and hearing the woodpeckers drumming on the steeple of the old Swedish Lutheran Church than it was to pay attention to what Mrs. LaFollette was trying to drill into my thick skull.
It was quite entertaining in physics class to watch Emery Barrus pretending to blow his nose on his shirttail. That drove poor Mrs. Day wild.
I could only take so much of that, physics that is, so transferred into Chorolaires at the semester break. It seems like a funny thing to do for a kid who wanted to go on to be a high school science teacher!
Speaking about one's aim in life, I recall an incident that took place in the first grade. In the Russell School, the boy's bathrooms had the old style urinals extended upwards from the floor to about as high as a first grader is tall (at that time I never understood the need for walk-in urinals). After a vigorous recess we always headed for the lavatory before returning to class. Side by side doing our thing I heard someone yelp, "that kid peed on my foot". Glancing down I was shocked as I discovered I was the guilty one. Perhaps this is why Ken Caldwell and I weren't the closest of friends throughout our twelve years of school. I really think I did apologize, Ken!
|From: Linda Wilson
No, I don't remember the name of my school bus (#10?) BUT I do remember our bus driver, Fred Horning. He was truly a laid-back, cool man. I was on the fringe end of the bus route. If my sisters or I weren't out by the road, Fred would still stop and wait. If he saw this was going to take awhile, he had a stool which he got out. Along with a rag and some Windex, he'd wash the windows of the bus while my sisters and I got our bodies out there. I have 8mm movies to prove that! Amazing! Also, in the Fall when there were apples on the trees along the road, Fred would stop, let all of us out to pick an apple. Then, we could eat them on the bus. Have times ever changed! Remember the school bus skating parties in Lewiston? Those were fun.
Also, does anyone remember Mr. Gould? Didn't he teach Algebra/math, or was it a science? Anyway, he had glasses three inches thick and wore horrendous ties. So, the guys throughout the school designated a day of the week, every week, as "Mr. Gould" day and wore crazy ties (to make fun of him). Kids will be kids, huh? And we were no exception. The guys should remember this alot better than I do, but I do remember Pat Agideous (sp?, a class or two older, very tall guy) who wore this outrageously long, wide polka-dotted tie. Laughed all day. We always wondered if Mr. Gould ever caught on - he seemed so dense.
Watching in fascination as Bruce Davey flipped his front teeth in and out of place over and over and over again in US history as he sat in the front row and stared at Mrs. Schuette. Must have been a bit distracting for her!
I have a million memories....
John Weber's '50 Studebaker without doors and his instant acceptance and friendship for the kid from down south, playing city league basketball in the old gym, Michelle....., the "contest" and trying to keep up with Tash, fishing on the Little Joe, sneaking out for a beer before we could face typing class, diving into snowbanks, painting the water tower, that fantastic '64 football team and coach Scott, M-club initiation (nobody could get away with that today!!), Morris breaking Bruce's nose between class, walking down to the bakery shop over lunch break, sloe gin, Shakey's pizza, the drive-in and trying to clean up Dave's mom's car the next day (what was she thinking letting us take her car?), Spring skiing at Sun Valley, hookey-bobbing around town, cruising main street....
I tell stories about some of the crazy things we did and nobody believes them!! Thank you all so much for enriching my life....and helping me live through it!!
Memories are pretty foggy for me,but if I'am reminded of something I usually remember!! Miss Gehrke: leading me to Coach Suttons study hall from Library!! Boy those pennies sure made a neat noise when they slid around the light fixtures!! Harold has mentioned the alarm clocks and pennies and condominiums!! HaHa but i also remember pictures from play boy and live CHICKENs huh Larry??? In Buck Youmans class a couple boys planned down some 2x4s about a foot long, that when finished slipped right under door handles to the library !!! Ya some were late for next class!!! I personally spent most of my Senior year in the Administrations office. I got to know Mr. Johnstone very well. Usally to do with parking of my car like in Superintendents (McDONALD) parking place over by the annex!!!! Or down across from tip -top so sun reflected in Mr. Johnstones office window. Ect..
Well: thats all i can think of now except for getting in trouble in Biology class for putting tacks on chairs and writting on (NYLONS) FORGIVE ME LORD FOR WHAT I HAVE DONE!!!!
|From: "Keep my name out of this":
One time I stopped by to see a friend. There were some other girls there, and we sat around the table talking. There was one girl, though, who hovered behind me and said, "How would you like to have your hair cut?" Snip. Well, I really hadn't planned on having my hair cut that day. I mean, I didn't know it was on my agenda for that day. She didn't wait for me to say, "Yes", "No", "Let me think about it", or "Over my dead body". I think it is possible, though, that I may have said something like "uh" or "um", or something along that line. I was so stunned that I think I may have been comatose for a moment or two. However, I couldn't very well go around with my hair long on one side and with a short bob on the other side, so I ended up with a short haircut that I hadn't planned on. But, it was kind of funny. Kind of. Sort of. In a way. I guess. Maybe. I do know she meant well. She had good intentions. She simply felt she must intervene on my behalf. My hair must go! And it did.
Well, Mike, you've touched on a number of the unforgettable memories during our tenure at Moscow High. However, there were a few more that came to mind when thinking of Miss Maybelle and the library, i.e., the limburger cheese in the heat vents, the alarm clock, the penny nailed to the floor and the condom (I think we called them something else) tacked to the bulletin board. Although Miss Gehrke probably received more than her fair share of attention, seems that Lorna Schuette fell victim to at least one other memorable incident, the "centerfold" in the pull-down map. As a group, there was certainly no shortage of creativity.
Is it possible that we had some kind of strange affection for Maybelle Gehrke? I mean, personally, I wouldn't give someone I did not like the time of day. Most of us play practical jokes on those we consider friends, not people we dislike. I believe that if a student needed help, Miss Gehrke would be the first in line. In fact, I think there is at least one graduate in the class of '64 that would not have received a diploma had it not been for Maybelle Gehrke.
Here's a memory that classmate Dick Nelson has no doubt forgotten. Dick had stopped by the house one day. As we were talking I just happen to have a pellet gun in hand and without thinking, 'POP' right on the butt. He took verbal exception and referred to me as the close relative to some female dog among other things, but never mentioned it again. Time passed and it was history, at least for me. Apparently, not for Dick. He was again at the house and oblivious to me, grabbed that pellet gun and 'ZAP' right in the same place. Revenge was his. The pain subsided shortly and I really didn't give it much more thought. Turn about is fair play. Right? A few days later I catch a glimpse of my rear in the bathroom mirror. A perfectly round unbelievably purple bruise 4 - 5 inches in diameter. The next time I see Nelson, I advise him of my rather bizarre bruise. He says, "Ya, I know."
Picture this. You're home alone taking a little afternoon snooze. Out like a light in the ol' Lazyboy. Suddenly, you're awakened by a noise of sorts. While still in that semi-conscious state between sleep and total consciousness, you finally realize it's someone banging on the door and screaming, "FIRE, FIRE!" You come out the chair like a bolt of lightning and head out the door only to find another classmate thoroughly enjoying the moment. Thanks for the memory, Tim Brown.
Another memory, for me, was that daily bus commute to and from school and sharing stories (???) with friends Pam and Mo. By the way, for those of you that also made that bus ride every day, do you remember the name of your bus?
There's no doubt more, but I'll end with a memory that takes us back to the library. Enjoyed sitting at the round tables slightly out of sight of the "evil eye" pitchin' pennies. Yes, those were some great mammaries . I mean memories.
And a final thought:
Who can possibly forget Maybelle Gehrke??? So many memories and most of them so politically incorrect.... Being chained in the library; having live chickens with you while chained in the library; getting the "evil eye stare" for whistling softly under your breath (over and over and over); seeing how many spitwads in takes to fill one of the "upside down" bowls on the ceiling lights; over the course of an hour, seeing how many books you can creatively "re-file" in new and interesting locations; being summoned into the back-room for a serious heart to heart talk; being banished next door to the study hall where nothing interesting happens..... Those were the days!!
|From: Barbara Martin
Does anybody remember Mr. Shane? MJHS 7th grade ALL girl Math class! That poor man, I've always wondered if that was a planned thing, wonder if that's why he left the school district?? We should have given him a "survivor" award! Sure was fun though and he was a super guy!