Sunday, December 15, 2013

A LOVE STORY: A NAIVE AND SENTIMENTAL TRIFLE


A LOVE STORY:  A NAÏVE AND SENTIMENTAL TRIFLE

“Eddie, there are many reasons I shouldn’t marry you and only one or two reasons I should.  You are handsome, dapper, a man-about-town, a lover of parties and late nights, worldly … I could go on.  I, on the other hand am plain, shy, not very social, a homebody …. again, I could go on.”
“I know all that Linda, except that I’m not sure I agree with your assessment of either of us completely. But more to the point, what do you think are the one or two reasons we should get married?”

“I love you and you love me.   That’s one.  We really enjoy each other’s company.  That’s two.”
“You know Linda, my parents are very attractive, sophisticated, party-goers, ambitious, social butterflies, … I could go on.  But they lack the two elements you say we have.  They don’t love each other and they really don’t much care to be with each other.  Their marriage is rooted in business, not love or affection.  Since I’ve been seeing you, I have felt for the first time as if  I’m in a real relationship.”

“I know how you feel now, Eddie, and I truly believe you.  What I’m worried about is that down the road, if we got married, you’d begin to feel the strain of being married to someone who couldn’t help you on your climb to the top.  Knowing how much I hate parties and most social events and how much you love them, you’d go by yourself.  You take the kidding from others about being the most single married man they know.  You wouldn’t want this to happen, but you’d start noticing the women who would take an interest in you.  You’d dismiss most of them, but there would bound to be some whom you genuinely liked and were attracted to.  You’d resist for a while, perhaps a long while, but then you’d relent.  And I wouldn’t blame you one bit.  But the marriage, the kind of marriage we both wanted, would be over.”
“Linda, first of all, I am ambitious.  I do want to move up in the business world.  I don’t love the social scene that goes along with it, but it’s part of the whole package.  What you need to understand is that, when I come to see you, it’s as though I can let go of the phoniness that surrounds me at work and I can be myself.  I could never get very far without that.  I’d become angry and bitter because I’d be trapped in the world I grew up in.”

“I know you feel that way, and I’m so glad you do.  Why don’t we just enjoy being boyfriend and girlfriend for at least a few months.  Let’s put the marriage talk on hold.”
“I’m willing to do that, only because I do love you and want you to be happy.”

And so, Eddie and Linda continued to date.   Eddie couldn’t wait to come over to Linda’s house.  Her parents were both teachers.  Their house was very modest, especially by the standards of his own house.  But, when he crossed the threshold of that house, he felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders.  Linda’s father and mother were also more likeable and approachable than his parents ever could be.  But it was mainly Linda who made him feel so relaxed and completely himself.
A few months passed.  Once again, Eddie broached the subject of marriage to Linda.

“Linda, we’ve continued to see each other and, at least on my part, I’m more in love with you now than I’ve ever been.  I really can’t imagine life without you.  Please marry me.”
“Eddie, I won’t go over the list again.  We know what the issues are.  I do love you and know that even in the greatest relationships there are bound to be difficulties from time to time.  I just don’t want to feel like I’m a burden to you.”

“That will never happen.  All the burdens I feel  or will ever feel are outside our relationship.”
“You need to be very traditional and ask my father for permission to marry me.  Will you do that?”

“In a heartbeat.”
“I tell you what.  Thanksgiving is in two weeks.  We always have a small Thanksgiving dinner.  My parents and I are usually joined by one of my uncles and his wife and one of my cousins.  Could you possibly come to dinner?  After dinner, or perhaps before dinner – no, after would be better – you could speak to my father.”

“That sounds wonderful.  We used to have a big Thanksgiving dinner with relatives from all over.  Then it gradually became more of a business associates event.  It hardly seemed like a family event at all.  Now, it’s just another day pretty much.  My parents will probably even go up to the ski lodge.  They don’t ski, but that’s where the business contacts all congregate.”
Thanksgiving dinner at the Miller’s was everything Eddie imagined it could be.  Linda’s relatives were just as down-to-earth and warm as her parents.  After dinner, Linda, her mom, and the relatives all went in to share stories.  Eddie asked Linda’s father if he might meet with him.  They went into the study, which looked just like Eddie thought a study should like.  It was brimming with books and was cluttered.  Mr. Miller even had to take some books off a chair for Eddie to sit down.

“Mr. Miller, you probably know why I wanted to talk to you.  But first, I just wanted to say how much I really appreciate the warmth and love you and Mrs. Miller have extended to me since I began dating Linda.”
“Well Eddie, you’re a fine young man.”

“Mr. Miller, Linda and I have been considering this for a long time.  We’ve been dating for two years you know.   I asked her to marry me three months ago but she put me off.  I asked her again two weeks ago and she said that I needed to speak to you first.”
“That’s so like Linda, isn’t it?  Eddie, I can’t imagine a more wonderful son-in-law than you.  I can also imagine the things Linda has said to dissuade you.”

“She has her list of reasons.”
“Linda and her lists!  I’m not going to state the obvious.  You both know the differences between you two.  I imagine Linda is worried that, at some point, you will find her less appealing.  You’re an honorable person and would never do anything to disrespect her, but she would know.  My thinking is that marriage is always  risky.  I’ve known people who seemed perfectly compatible go their separate ways and others who seemed to be quite unsuited for each other make a real go of it.  You do know that Linda can’t have children.”

“I’m aware of that, sir.”
“What’s so heartbreaking about that fact is that she loves children so.  She’d like ten of ‘em if she could.”

“Sir, I know I can and will make Linda wonderful husband.  I don’t know how great a father I’d be anyway.”
“Eddie, you and Linda are both fine people.  I’ve noticed how you get along so well.  You’re an ambitious young man, but you also possess a great deal of patience.  I see your face light up when you come to the house.   The choice to marry you is Linda’s, but you both have my blessing. Just remember that marrying the person you love is the easy part.  Loving the person you marry is the hard part, and the only part that really matters.”

“I know that, and you have no worries.  I really appreciate your blessing, sir.  Linda’s the girl for me.”
Eddie immediately excused himself to go see Linda.

“Linda, we have you father’s blessing.”
“That’s great to hear.  Now, what about your parents?  They don’t like me, you know.  I’ve only been around the, a couple of times, but I got the message loud and clear.”

“They don’t like you because they know we’ll have a relationship they can never have.  I love them, but I don’t expect them to approve of our marriage.  That really doesn’t bother me.  I would actually be more troubled if they did.”
“I really think we can make this work.”

The couple went back into the house and Linda’s father made the announcement to the relatives.  It was a grand conclusion to a grand day.
Eddie then went home to an empty house.  He told some of the staff his news and they were delighted.  When his parents returned from their ski trip, he told them.  They weren’t delighted.  Eddie knew that from then on, even  the shallow relationship he had maintained with his parents would be diminished.

Linda and Eddie were married by a justice of the peace and then participated in a small, religious wedding service at a chapel where Linda and her parents were members.  His parents did not attend. They gave Linda and Eddie no wedding present.
During their first years of marriage, their lives followed the path Linda had predicted.  Eddie rose in the business world and managed to make the social scene enough to keep his name afloat.  He often brought one of his cousins along as an escort.  Linda would come to a few events, mainly dinner events where she didn’t have to socialize much.  What Linda didn’t understand was how Eddie felt each day he returned home.  He couldn’t wait to get home.  They’d typically have a light supper and then go curl up with each other and read to each other or watch a movie.  Sometimes, they’d go out to a movie, play, or concert.

Linda’s interest in plants prompted her to become active in the local botanical society.  She also became a favorite story teller at the library and hospital.  She had a full, rich life. 
Twice a year, they’d take a trip.  It was usually to a nature preserve.  Linda didn’t care for big cities and tourist destinations.  Eddie saw enough of them on business trips.  He lover their trips as much as Linda did.

Linda was also right about the fact that women would constantly make a play for Eddie.  When his cousin married, she no longer accompanied him to social events.  Women saw this as a sign that they could move in.  Eddie found most to be repulsively mercenary.  But, just as Linda predicted, there were a few whom Eddie found most attractive and likable.  However, he always managed to rebuff their advances most graciously.  He even took taunts that he was gay with no malice.  Taunts concerning Linda hurt more deeply, but he would always take a look at the person making the taunts and realize how lucky he was.
A major promotion at the company where Eddie had worked for fifteen years coincided with his and Linda’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

“Linda, what do you want to do for our anniversary?”
“I was sort of hoping we might go back to the place where we spent our honeymoon.”

“My thoughts exactly, which is why I’ve set everything up. There is, however, something we need to do.”
“And what might that be?”

“You know I’ve been promoted.  Well, the company CEO, Cary Basil, and his wife, want to have us over for dinner to celebrate. He doesn’t really care about my promotion, but he knows it’s the thing that’s expected of him.   Then, there’s going to be this big reception for me a week later.  Our actually anniversary falls right in between these two events, so we’ll have to delay our second honeymoon about two weeks.   I know how excruciatingly painful both of these events will be for you, but if you could manage to put on a good show, I’d be most grateful.”
“Well, you know for a fact, that I won’t put on a show for anyone.  Of course, I’ll be gracious and as charming as I can manage to be.  You’ve really been good all these years about not expecting me to go to many events.  It will be fine.”

The dinner at the Basil’s went as Eddie and Linda expected it to.  No one at the company really had kind words for Cary Basil.  He had been brought in as a hatchet man and was very successful in his mission. Scratch his thin veneer of gentility and one would find a viper.  His wife, made from the same mold, continuously threw barbs at Linda throughout the evening, but Linda managed to throw them off with poise.  After a superficially amiable evening, Eddie and Linda said good night to their hosts and immediately went to a little diner they like for a burger and a shake.
Eddie and Linda had a wonderful time on their second honeymoon.  The following three years were upset only by the death of Linda’s father.  Eddie’s father had died over ten years before but that event was a mere blip in their lives.  Linda’s father would be truly missed.  Her mother went to live in a retirement center nearby.   Linda received much recognition for her work on behalf of the botanical garden and her work with children.  Two banquets were held in her honor.  Eddie became quite amused at the fact that one of the banquets was held in the very same place as a banquet he had been to the previous week.  The setup of the room was the same.  The food was the same.  But the atmosphere of the two banquets could not have been more different.  While he still loved social events, the banquets honoring Linda were definitely more enjoyable and memorable.

Linda began having headaches.  At first, she shrugged them off.  But then, they started to be so severe that she went to the doctor.  He had some tests run.  A malignant tumor was found in her brain.  Further tests revealed that the cancer cells had metastasized into other portions of her body.  Except for the headaches, however, she felt fine.  The tumor was removed and she began cancer treatment.  Eddie decided it was time for him to retire to be with Linda.  They travelled as much as they could.  However, Linda reached a point where she couldn’t tolerate the trips and became home bound.
Despite her illness, the same feeling of joy and anticipation that came over Eddie as he approached their house continued in him.  Of course, he agonized over her gradual decline.  Their favorite pastimes remained curling up together and reading to each other and watching movies.  They still went out when she was up to it.  One night, they said goodnight to each other and Linda never awoke.

Eddie took Linda’s death hard.  But then, as he was looking through her things, he discovered several scrapbooks she’d compiled over the years.  Some of them were comical and featured clippings of all of his business activities and all the social events he has attended.  Some were filled with copies of their favorite poems and readings from books.  One special book was a series of “letters” Linda wrote to Eddie and to others over the years.  They were attended for Eddie’s eyes only.   There was enough material to see him through his grief.  He never tired of revisiting them, especially the letters.
One letter was especially poignant.  It was dated two weeks before her death:

My dear Eddie,
I want  to thank you for all you have done for me, not just in the last few years, but for our entire lives together.  I’ll be going soon, I know.  It’s funny.  I’ve never told you this before, but the first time I laid eyes on you, I said to myself, there’s the man of my dreams!  But he’s so worldly and handsome, he won’t give me a second look.  Even though I kept putting off any commitment  we might make to each other-- the hardest thing I have ever done, by the way—I could see in your eyes how much delight I gave you just by being who I was.  You not only gave me a second look, you never took your eyes off me for over thirty years. 

Eddie, I hope you will find someone else to love after I’m gone.  It won’t  be the same.  I know, however, that over the years there were most likely some women that you found appealing.  Knowing you, you won’t settle for anything other than the one that makes your heart sing.  You probably won’t spend your time together reading poetry to each other and enacting sections of novels and plays.  There will be something else that will be your harbor of love.  Embrace it.  We had our time together, and it cannot be duplicated. 
Finally, my dear.  Forgive your parents.  They weren’t perfect and didn’t have lives that were especially happy.  They made you.  And for that, they always had a special place in my heart.  Take flowers to their graves and love them the way they could never love you, or each other. 

Say hello to the children for me when you seem them.  And don’t forget to water the plants!

All my love and all my heart,
Linda

WHAT AN EYE!


WHAT AN EYE!

 “It’s not right!  It’s just not right!”
“Well, Mizz Percival, I went by the color card you gave me and matched the tint as close as I could.”

“Let me see that card!”  Minnie Percival snatched a card from the hands of painter Sam Wilson and held it up to the newly painted wall.  “There are at least 20 shades of difference between this card and the wall. They are as close as London is from Tokyo!”
“Miss Percival, all I can say is that I did the very best I could to match the wall with the color of the card. 

Sam Wilson’s helper Greg joined in. “Mizz Percival, we’ve repainted this room four times. We want you to be happy, but there is only so much we can do.”
“I guess it will have to do.  I know I’m picky.  My sense of color is very strong and I notice the minutest differences, It drives me crazy.  Once I get the furniture back in the room and with paintings, mirrors, and drapes less of the wall will show.  I know you did your best.  Thank you.”

Minnie Percival left the room.  Greg Barkus remarked to his boss, “That’s one eccentric old woman.”
“She’s odd, Greg, not eccentric. There’s a difference.”

“Like the difference between the color of this card and the color of the wall?”
“No.  She really does see the finest differences between shades. It’s always been a problem for her, sort of like a person who hears the smallest differences in musical tones. I think that’s called perfect pitch.”

“I don’t mean to make a fuss about this Sam. The only thing is that we have spent four days on this room and I doubt we’re getting paid much for it. I’ve got a family to support, and so do you.”

“It’ll be okay, Greg.  We’ve had some great jobs this summer.  Let’s get this room cleaned up.  It’s early, so why don’t we stop by for a beer before we go home.”
“You buyin'?”

“Of course.”
“You’re on.”

Sam and Greg pulled up the drop cloths, cleaned up the room, and headed for their favorite watering hole.
“Did I ever tell you about Minnie Percival, Greg?”

“No. What’s there to know?  She’s an eccentric, I mean odd, old lady.”
“I’ve known Minnie Percival all my life. My father, and grandfather, knew her parents.  My grandfather did lots of work for them way back.”

“So, she’s an old family friend then. That’s why you put up with her.”
“She puts up with me is more like it, Greg.  Her mother and father came to Charleston from Boston in the early 1940s. They were tired of the cold. He was a physician and she was a gemologist.”

“You mean a jeweler?”
“Not exactly.  She was an expert on minerals like crystals and gemstones.  My grandfather said they were very nice people, but they stayed to themselves.  Dr. Carlton liked to sail, but wasn’t really into the social side of sailing. That’s the reason they chose Charleston.”

“So Miss Percival must have been married.  I guess I figured her to be an old maid.”
“She was married, to an Arthur Percival.  That’s part of the story.”

“Have we gotten to the interesting part of the story yet, Sam?”
“No, but I guess we’d better get on home.  I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.  It really is interesting.”

The next day, Sam and Greg started on a new job.  At lunch time, Sam decided to stop by Mrs. Percival’s to see how she was doing. 
“Oh Sam, it’s so nice of you to come by.  Please forgive my outburst yesterday.  You know how I am."

“Don’t think anything of it, Mizz Percival.  I hope you can live with the room.”
“Now that the room is filling up again, it’s okay.  I don’t think that room had been painted in 20 years.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re satisfied.”
“Oh yes, I need to pay you.  We agreed on 15 dollars I think.”

“That’ll be fine, ma’am.”
“Well, I’m going to add 5 dollars.  Give that to your helper. I’m sure he thought I was quite rude.”

“Not at all. Greg’s a great worker. He just gets impatient.”
“Well, I apologize anyway.  It’s always so good to see you, Sam.  Do you mind if I call you if I need something else painted?”

“I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t”
Minnie Percival gave Sam a genteel hug and Sam went to the bank to deposit the check.  When he returned to the new job, Greg was busy completing the prep work.

“Greg, here’s a check for your work for Mizz Percival.”
“$175.00.  That’s more than I expected.  Are you sure you’re not giving me everything she paid?”

“Of course not, Greg.”
As they began their work, Greg commented, “I’ve been waiting to hear the interesting part of Mrs. Percival’s story.”

“Okay.  I’ve given you a bit of history.”
“Yeah – couple from Boston, physician, gemologist – but not a jeweler --, moved to Charleston, he liked sailing, your grandfather worked for them.”

“Thanks for paying attention!  Okay, this is back in WWII times.  Minnie Carlton was a teenager.  Like most teenage girls, she was obsessed with fashion. But it was the depression, and even physicians didn’t have much money to spend on things like fashion. Minnie made her own clothes. My grandfather liked to talk about how she even dyed the fabrics she would use to make dresses and shirts and jackets.  You know about her eye for color.  He said she would have these big pots on the back porch where she would dip the fabric and then hang it up to dry.  Not only that.  She made her own patterns.  She would go ‘round to all the stores and closely examine everything.  But she didn’t just make her own clothes.  She made clothes for her mother and father and for lots of people.  There were lots of needs in those days.”
“Still are. Gotten to the interesting part yet?”

“We’re getting there.  Because she made lots of things for her father, she spent lots of time at men’s clothing stores.  She studied the way shirts were made, the fabrics, but also jackets, trousers, socks.”
“And underwear?” Greg chuckled.

“She didn’t take it that far, that I know of.”
“Okay.  One day, these two FBI agents showed up at the Carlton’s house and asked for Mrs. Carlton.  They wanted her to assist them in an investigation of the possible smuggling of gemstones out of the country to support the German effort in the war.”

“Okay, now you’ve got my interest.  I’m a WWII buff.”
“As they spoke to Mrs. Carlton, Minnie sat quietly and studied the two men.  Because she was this mousy teenager, the two agents didn’t pay any attention to her.  But she was paying attention to them.  She noticed things about the cut of one of the agents’ shirts and also his socks. They seemed unusual to her and aroused her curiosity.  The two agents left but came back the very next day.   Minnie noticed that the same agent was again wearing an unusual shirt and that was, to her, an odd shade of white.  Men in those days only wore white dress shirts but, as you well know, she could spot differences in shades. She also noticed once again, the socks he wore. This time, she also noticed cufflinks he wore. They seemed to her like gift cufflinks and not ones he would have likely bought for himself.  After they left, she asked her mother, “Mom, did you happen to notice one of the agent’s cufflinks?”

“Of course I did. The gemstones immediately caught my eye.  I tried not to pay attention, but gave them a glance every so often.”
“There’s just something a bit off about his clothes, and those cufflinks.”

“Minnie, me thinks you’ve been reading too many spy thrillers.”
“You know I don’t read that stuff, mom.”

“Honey, they seem to be dedicated agents and are looking to see if I can help them with their investigation.  Your imagination is running wild.”
“I suppose so.”  But Minnie was convinced that something about the agent was off.  She went to the library and found the address for J. Edgar Hoover, director of the FBI.  She wrote him of her suspicions but kept the letter purposefully vague as to her mother’s name and her last name, but she did give the agent’s names.  She didn’t think about the fact that he could easily find out her and her mother’s names. She did receive a letter from Mr. Hoover, which she luckily intercepted before her mother looked through the mail.  Part of it read:

“We have one of the agents you named under scrutiny and appreciate the details you noticed.  We are on top of this and will keep you informed.”

“So one of the agents was a double agent?” Greg asked.
“Yes.  Minnie’s mother was curious as to why the agents never returned to their home but just assumed the FBI didn’t need her. About a month after all of this, J. Edgar Hoover himself came to their house.  It was all very hush-hush at the time.  He explained to Mrs. Carlton what Minnie had done.  Minnie was presented with a certificate of appreciation, a letter from President Roosevelt and one from Mr. Hoover, and a check.  It was an exciting day, but one about which they had to be quiet for years.”

“Now, that is interesting.”
“There’s more.  My grandfather told us all of this for years as a backdrop to a very personal story.  One of my granddad’s brothers was stricken with polio.  Every spare penny my family had went for his care.  The Carltons were well aware of this and did what they could. Minnie stunned everyone by signing over her check to my family to help pay for my great-uncle’s treatment.  He survived and lived for quite a while.  I got to know him a little when I was young.”

“That’s tremendous, Sam.  Now I know why you love Mrs. Percival so much.”
“Well, there’s another twist to the story.  The second agent who visited the house, the one who was honest. His last name was Percival.  He had a son about Minnie’s age.  The son’s name was Arthur.  Arthur went to The Citadel and met Minnie at a mixer for cadets with locals.  Minnie was a student at Winthrop College, but was home for the weekend and went to the mixer.  Arthur knew nothing about what had happened a few years before, and Minnie had forgotten the name Percival.  But Arthur’s father never forgot, and when Arthur told his father of his interest in Minnie, the father instantly remembered the name and told his son that he needed to marry Minnie.  They married and, as Arthur was an officer in the Army, they lived all over the world.  Arthur was killed in Vietnam and Minnie returned to Charleston, and to the house she had called home when she was a teenager.  She never forgot the color of the living room and, when it came time to repaint it, she wanted to return it to the color it had been when the family first moved in the house.  She remembered the exact shade.”

Friday, December 13, 2013

THE BULLDOZERS


THE BULLDOZERS

“Can you believe who just come in to teach our school?”

“Those kids are going to chew her up and spit her out.”

“That bunch is as mean as snakes, and the devil’s spawn to boot.”

“Now hold on.  They’re as mean as snakes, I’ll grant you that.  But they’re our spawn.  Then again, living in this godforsaken place, maybe we are the devil.”

“I give her a day at the most.  She’ll pack her bags and head for the hills.”

Such was the conversation at the general store about Minnie Tyler, the petite – maybe five feet tall and ninety pounds wringing wet – young teacher who just moved into Mrs. Graden’s house.  The one-room schoolhouse she’d be running had been without a teacher all summer.  The kids had run the last one off and bets were on that they’d make short shrift of the new one.

As soon as she arrived in town, Minnie Tyler headed over to the barn-like structure that was used as a school.  When she opened the door, she couldn’t believe her eyes.  “How can any learning take place here?” was her question.  Not only was the place falling apart.  What desks there were were ramshackle.  It looked abandoned, just like the town it was a part of and the people who lived there – abandoned and forgotten.

It was some forty miles down curvy mountain roads to the nearest other community and school.  So the little town of Oliver’s Gulch lived in its own world and flew under the radar as far as the state was concerned.  People made do by making do. 

Minnie Tyler set to work putting the school in some sort of order.  She patched and mended and got it into some shape.  She made a long list of needs and contacted the state department of education.  They all but laughed her off.  So she got in her car and went to the nearest good-sized city with the pitiful supply card she was given.  Of course, like most teachers she used with a good portion of her own money  as well to buy the supplies she thought she would need – including soap and washcloths.

The first day of school, the kids all gathered in the schoolhouse.  They were somewhat impressed by all the teacher, or someone, had done to whip it into shape. But to them it was still a school.  Minnie Tyler waited until she assumed that everyone who was going to come to school had arrived.  She then strode into the large space reciting the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution.

“Does anybody know what I just recited?”

“’The Lord’s Prayer’?” one jokester jeered as everyone laughed.

“You’re close.  It’s the “Preamble” to the U.S. Constitution.  Anyone know when that was written?”

Again, another jokester piped up, “Before you was born, I bet.”  Again, gales of laughter.

Minnie Driver then asked another question.  “What do you all think this school needs?”

The largest boy in the room then said, “A bulldozer!”  Once again, gales of laughter.

“Well, you’re all alive, so you can learn.”  She then got a wooden crate and set it right in front of the biggest boy.  She got on it so she could look him straight in the eyes.  “What this school needs is a football team!”

Cheers went up from the group.  But then, the biggest boy spoke up.  “Right.  A football team.  Lady, look around you. We got maybe eight kids in here who might be able to play football.  The others are too young or they’re girls.”

“I see that .. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Boyd Stanton. And what’s your name?”

“My name’s written on the blackboard.”

“Well, it might as well be written on the roof.  You know, none of us can read.”

Minnie Tyler got off the box and walked determinedly to the blackboard.  “My name’s Minnie Tyler, M-I-N-N-I-E  T-Y-L-E-R.  Minnie Tyler.  I’m from Brooksville.  Anyone ever heard of Brooksville?

“I got an aunt who lives there,” a shy girl spoke up.

“What’s her name?”

“It’s Laurie Donavan.”

“I know Laurie Donavan.  She’s a nice person.  She works at a health center there.  And what’s your name?”

“I’m Brenda Madigan.”

“Boyd Stanton and Brenda Madigan. Two nice names. Two strong names. Two good names.  I bet you all have good names.”

By now, the entire group was mesmerized by this teacher. She pointed to each child and had them say their names.

“Leah Page.”

“What was that?  Speak up!”

“Leah Page.”

“That’s better.  That's a beautiful name.  Say it with the beauty it deserves.  Now, about this football team.  You want to call it the Bulldozers do you?”  The group all laughed.  “Let’s go outside and pick out a place for a field.”

The group all walked outside and around  the back of the schoolhouse.  Right there was an abandoned field.  It was perhaps too small for a regulation football field, but it was level and  rectangular.

Minnie walked the length and width of the field.  The kids just stood in amazement.  “This is a nice rectangle.  Who can tell me what a rectangle is?”

“It’s like a square,”  one of the younger boys shouted.

“You’re absolutely correct.  Now, I want  us all to get in a line and pace out the width of this field. Let’s take nice big steps and count as we go.  All lined up?  Here we go.  One, two, three, four, …”

“So Boyd Stanton, how many steps did we pace off”

“Twenty.”

“You’re absolutely correct.  Anyone get a different number?” They all laughed, as they had counted together.”

“Now, let’s go over here and do the same thing this way.”

They paced out the length of the field.

“So, Leah Page.  How many paces is the length of the field?”

“Eighty.”

“I couldn’t hear you, Leah Page.”

“Eighty!”

“That’s better.  Everyone agree?  Now, let’s build us a football field.”

“How do we do that?” Craig Fowler, one of the smaller boys, asked?

“That’s a good question Craig Fowler.  Any answers?

“I guess we need to mark it off,” Brenda Madigan replied.

“So let’s do it.  Craig Fowler and Leah Page,  you two go round up some boards – nice and straight and not too long.  Anyone have a rake?”    Almost every hand went up.  “Well, why don’t you all run home,  grab a rake, and come back here.”

The children all ran home.  Craig Fowler and Leah Page found some boards.  Minnie Tyler showed them where to place them to mark the perimeter of the field.  The other children quickly returned and raked off the field.

“Now, we’ve got us a football field!” Minnie Tyler exclaimed.

“This ain’t no football field!” Boyd Stanton yelled out.

“Boyd Stanton,” Minnie Tyler retorted, “why isn’t it a football field?  And what’s my name?  I’ve got a nice name just like you.  I like to hear it.”

“Miss Tyler,” Boyd Stanton replied, “it ain’t no football field ‘cause there ain’t no yard lines and there ain’t no goal posts.”


“Well, Boyd Stanton, why on earth do we need those things?”

“We need’em cause that’s what football fields have. That’s why.”

“What’s my name, Boyd Stanton?”

“Miss Tyler.”

“Mr. Boyd Stanton, why do we need yard lines?”

“Miss Tyler, to let us know where we are on the field.”

“And, Craig Fowler, why do we need  goal posts?”

“I dunno.”

“What’s my name?”

“Miss Tyler.  I dunno.”

“Anyone know why we need goal posts?”

“’Cause then you know when you’ve made a touchdown,” Willie Starfield spoke up.

“You’re absolutely right, Willie Starfield.”

“And Craig Fowler, what’s a rectangle?”

“It’s like a square.”

“What’s my name?”

“It’s Miss Tyler.  But you didn’t make Willie Starfield say your name.”

“You’re so right, Craig Fowler.  Willie Starfield, what’s my name?”

“It’s Miss Tyler.”

“Thank you, Willie Starfield.”

Minnie Tyler then walked on to the field and began reciting the “Preamble” to the U.S. Constitution.

“Was that ‘The Lord’s Prayer’?”

“No!” they all shouted.

“What’s my name?”

“Miss Tyler,” they all shouted.

”Then,  what was it?”

They all got quiet.’

“It’s the “Preamble” to the U.S. Constitution.  You know, I think we’ve learned enough for one day.  Why don’t you all go home now.”

“But Miss Tyler,” Boyd Stanton exclaimed, “we ain't finished the field yet.”

“There’ll be time, Boyd Stanton,” Minnie Tyler replied.  “We’ll make some progress tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Miss Tyler,” they all said as they turned to head home.

“Goodbye Bulldozers!” Minnie Tyler replied.

The next morning, Minnie Tyler headed to the schoolhouse, but decided to check on the field first.  To her amazement, there were  lines drawn around the perimeter of the field and yard lines drawn.  There were even goal posts.  During the evening, some of the students had come back and finished the job. Minnie  Tyler was impressed with how even the lines were and how careful the students had been in spacing out the yard lines.  She ran to get a tape measure.  Even though the distance between the yard lines wasn’t quite a yard, the spacing was amazingly accurate.

She then went to the schoolhouse and found every student present. There were even two more who hadn’t shown up the first day.  She walked up to each student and said good morning to each one, calling out each one by name.  She learned the names of the two new students.   She then began reciting the “Preamble.”

“Okay folks, what did I just recite.”

“The ‘Preamble’ to the U.S. Constitution, Miss Tyler,” they all responded in unison, some giggling as they spoke.

“That’s absolutely correct. I love those words.  I hope you do.”

“Miss Tyler?”

“Yes, Brenda Madigan.”

“Miss Tyler, when we had other teachers before, we would all say ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ at the beginning of each day.  Do you believe in ‘The Lord’s Prayer’?”

“Yes, Brenda Madigan, I believe in ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ and I pray it every day.  You know what?  I’d like us all to close our eyes and say ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ to ourselves.”

A young student raised his hand.

“Yes, Matthew Brock?”

“Miss Tyler, I don’t know ‘The Lord’s Prayer.’”

“Well, Matthew Brock, do you know any prayers?”

“I know Grace.”

“Well, why don’t you say that”

“What’s my name?” the little boy giggled.

“Your name is Matthew Brock.  That’s such a nice name.  It’s a strong name.  it’s a good name.  So, now, let’s all close our eyes and say our prayer.”

With previous teachers, when the students would recite “The Lord’s Prayer,” it was half-hearted at best and the teachers could notice giggles when someone got the words mixed up.  Now, the students all stood perfectly quiet and with eyes closed.  Little Matthew Brock and a few others did take a peak every now and then to see if others had finished, but then they closed their eyes tightly once again.

The students then began to take their seats.

“Hold on class,” Minnie Tyler said as she motioned for them to stay standing. “We’re not going to sit down for a while. You know, I saw something this morning that was absolutely wonderful.  You know what it was?”

“No,”  Boyd Stanton replied, “ what was it?”

Minnie Tyler remained quiet, looking intently at Boyd Stanton.

“What was it, Miss Tyler?”

“What I saw was that some of you took it on yourselves to do some homework.”

The class laughed.

“The football field looks absolutely wonderful.  I think we need to go out and inspect it.”

The class immediately left the schoolhouse and went around to the back.

“Okay class,  I have some questions.  I’m  so impressed by how evenly all the lines are.How in the world did you know how to space them?”

“Well, Miss Tyler,” Willie Starfield spoke up, “my dad’s a builder, so I asked him if he would help. We showed him how we’d paced out the length of the field, and found that it was eighty paces  He measured a pace and figured it was a little less than a yard.  So then, he figured that if you were gonna have lines to mark the yard lines and the goal lines, you’d have to take off a little more to make the right number of yard lines for a football field.  So, we measured and made sure they lines were spaced just right.”

“That’s wonderful, Willie Starfield.  Okay, now we’ve got to get our teams.  We’ve got eight boys who are old enough to play, I think.  And we’ve got four girls to be cheerleaders.  And we’ve got four boys who are too little to play but who can help out the team.”

“Miss Tyler?”

“Yes, Johnny Todd.”

“Miss Tyler, I’ve got a bad leg and I can’t play.”

“That’s fine, Johnny Todd.  You can referee, okay? “

“Thanks, Miss Tyler.”

“Miss Tyler?”

“Yes,  Dillie Jessup.”

“I don’t want to cheerleader.  That’s too girly-girl for  me.  What can I do?”

“Why don’t you referee with Johnny Todd?”

“Okay.  Thanks, Miss Tyler.”

Minnie Tyler had purchased some balls she thought the kids might be able to use.  They weren’t footballs, but they’d do for the time being.

“Let’s work on our passing game.  Everyone can do this.  I want you all to line up -  eight on this yard line and then eight, facing the others on this yard line.   How far apart are you?”

“We’re ten yards apart,” Leah Page said proudly.

“Well, not exactly,” Johnny Todd commented.

“What’s my name?” was Leah Page's reply.

“Not exactly, Leah Page.  The lines weren’t made ten yards apart.  They’re a little shorter so you could get the right number of lines in the field.”

“You’re absolutely correct, Johnny Todd.  But you’re correct, too, Leah Page. Even though we know that the lines are not really ten yards apart, we’re going to pretend they are.  So now, this line is on the thirty yard line and this line is on the forty yard line. What I want you to do is to throw the ball easily to the person across from you but zigzag so the ball travels down the line. Real easy now. “

They practiced that for a few minutes. “Now, I want both lines to move back about two yards.  That’s it.  Now, how far apart are you?”

“We’re fourteen yards apart, Miss Tyler,” Willie Starfield said.

“You’re absolutely correct, Willie Starfield.”

“How’d you know that, Mr. Math genius?” Boyd Stanton asked.

“Well, we were ten yards apart, about anyways.  Each line moved back about two yards. So that makes four more yards apart.  Four and ten makes fourteen.”

“What’s my name?”

“Four and ten makes fourteen, Boyd Stanton”

All the kids laughed.

After they practiced throwing for a while, they practiced running with the ball and handing off the ball to others.  Then they practiced running the yard lines.  Minnie Tyler got Dillie Jessup and Johnny Todd to stand on the sidelines and make note of how far each person ran to practice their refereeing skills.  As they practiced, Minnie Driver wove math, geometry, physics, and anatomy into their practice.

They took breaks every so often and Minnie Tyler would teach them about the rules of football. 

“How’n the heck  do you know so much about football, Miss Tyler? “Willie Starfield asked.  “You’re a girl.”

“I have two brothers, Willie Starfield, and a dad.  I may not look like it, but I’ve played my share of touch football with my brothers and dad.  I’ve even gotten tackled a time or two!”

The days passed quickly.  Minnie Tyler would often observe from a distance the students practicing on the field. She would never fail to recite the “Preamble” to the U.S. Constitution, and pretty soon, the students were reciting it with her.  She never failed to have them silently, and with eyes closed, say “The Lord’s Prayer,” or another prayer they knew.  She had the cheerleaders make up cheers.   They had been in school for over six weeks and had yet to sit at their desks.

On rainy days, the class would meet inside.  Sometimes, Minnie Tyler would have students clear a large area.  They would practice throwing, hiking, and handing off.  But they would also take turns going up to the blackboard.  In the grand tradition of the one-room schoolhouse, the older students would help the younger ones learn how to write.  They also had story-telling time, as well as such traditional activities as show-and-tell.

It was the middle of October.  Although they had begun to scrimmage every day, they’d never played a game.  “Okay, Bulldozers, I think it’s time for a real game, don’t you?”  So, Johnny Todd and Dillie Jessup, armed with whistles and handkerchiefs; the three cheerleaders-- Leah Page, Brenda Madigan, and Bethany Ragsdale-- cheered with hand made pom-poms; and the two teams of five players each got into their positions. Things were rough at first, but every student put their heart and soul into what they were doing.

One morning, Minnie Tyler woke up to find a gentle snow falling.  The first snowfall of the year always made her giddy.  She made her way to the schoolhouse early to stoke up the stove.  She had been shocked earlier to discover that the stove didn’t even work, but she used that fact to teach students about thermodynamics.  She had purchased five large thermos bottles, which she filed with different hot drinks,  such as hot chocolate and tea,  which she served, along with jam and crackers.  She noticed that not all the students had winter clothing, so she taught them how to make clothes from fabrics she had purchased.  She knew that the folks in Oliver’s Gulch were too proud to accept handouts, but were happy to make their own clothes.  She even recruited several ladies in town to help finish things up.

On this first snowy morning, as the children were enjoying their hot chocolate, jam, and crackers, Minnie Tyler announced, “Okay folks, let’s get bundled up and go for a walk.  It’s not that cold, and I have something I want to show you.”  They put on their coats, some they had made themselves; their scarves and caps, all hand made; and gloves.  While still clutching their large mugs of hot chocolate, they followed Minnie Tyler out back. They walked past the football field, with Minnie Tyler fielding questions along the way.  “Which U.S. President was a football player when he was a college student?” “I’m a ramblin’ wreck from where?”  She mentioned the names of colleges and universities as much as possible.  She loved instilling in them a pride and love for their community while at the same time lifting their sights beyond the mountains that surrounded them and separated them from the rest of the world.

They arrived at the edge of the woods. Minnie Tyler then began reciting the words of Robert Frost’s famous poem, “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.”  “Whose woods these are, I think I know.  His house is in the village though.”  The students didn’t catch on to the fact that she was reciting a poem and Boyd Stanton interrupted her recitation with the comment, “Mack Conrad’s house ain’t in the village, Miss Tyler.  He owns this forest and he don’t live anywhere nears here.” 

Without missing a beat, Minnie Tyler responded, “Is that a fact, Boyd Stanton?  And where does Mr. Conrad live?” 

“I don’t rightly know, Miss Tyler,” Boyd Stanton replied, “I just know it ain’t in this village.”  Minnie Tyler continued with the poem.

“That was really pretty, Miss Tyler.  Did you just make that up?” Johnny Todd asked.

“No, Johnny Todd.  That’s a poem by a man name Robert Frost.”

“Is he any kin to Jack Frost?” Willie Starfield quipped.

“He might very well be, Willie Starfield. He might very well be. Speaking of Jack Frost, it’s getting a little cold.  Why don’t we go back in.”

“Miss Tyler,” Brenda Madigan commented, “I don’t mean to be rude, but why’d you drag us out in the cold to look at some woods and hear some poem?”

“’Cause we see these woods all the time but don’t really look at them. We just sort of take them for granite,” Bethany Ragsdale commented.

“That’s granted, not granite, Bethany Ragsdale.  And what’s my name?”

“It’s Brenda Madigan. And I knew it was granted, not granite. I was just talkin’ like the older people talk, for fun.  Anyways, I liked that poem, Miss Tyler.  I want to commit it to memory.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Bethany Ragsdale,”  Minnie Tyler remarked as they made their way toward the school house.

The hard of winter set in, and more classes were held inside.  But still, the students never sat in their seats.  Minnie Tyler always found a way to keep them up and moving.  One day, she arrived at the schoolhouse with her pull wagon filled with thermos bottles, crackers and jam and opened the door to find the room freshly painted.  Some of the students and their parents had taken it on themselves to spruce up the rather gloomy interior of the schoolhouse.  At the front of the room, on one side of the blackboard she found a large framed and cross-stitched “Preamble” to the U.S. Constitution and on the other side, a similar cross-stitch of “The Lord’s Prayer.”   Many of the parents of the students were present that morning.

Somewhat overwhelmed, all Minnie Tyler could say was “What a beautiful , beautiful sight to behold!”

“Miss Tyler,” Brenda Madigan commented, ”We just wanted to let you know how much we appreciate you and how much we love you.”

“Thank you so much, Brenda Madigan, and Leah Page, and Bethany Ragsdale, and Boyd Stanton. …”  She called out the names of all the students and then asked the parents who were present to introduce themselves.  She noticed some things covered up with cloth.  Her curiosity was aroused.

“Miss Tyler,” Willie Starfield said, “we know how much you love football, and we love it too.  But it’s too cold most days to play now, so we thought of some things we might do indoors.  We got our parents to help out.  We’d like you to uncover the things we’ve made.  Well, we didn’t make everything.  Somethings were made by our relatives and kinfolks, but they want us to use them.

Minnie Tyler went over and lifted up the cloths that covered the items.  Underneath she found some gymnastics equipment, such as a pommel horse and two beams.   She then went over to a large covered area to find a beautiful  curved set of benches  with tables on which sat dulcimers and bells.

“These are absolutely the most beautiful and wonderful things I’ve ever seen!”

“You know what this is, Miss Tyler?” Leah Page asked.

“It’s a hammered dulcimer, Leah Page, and it’s a wonderful musical instrument.”

“Do you know what the word ‘dulcimer’ comes from, Miss Tyler?”  Boyd Stanton asked.

“No I don’t, Boyd Stanton.”

“It comes from a Latin word that means 'sweet,'” Boyd Stanton replied.  He then picked up a dulcimer and, with hands that were obviously used to hard work,  began to strike the dulcimer  with mallets.  From the mouth of the big, rough-hewn boy came a beautiful rendering of “I wonder as I wander.”  Every note from the dulcimer and every sound from his voice was like honey.  Others who could play the dulcimer or ring the little bells soon joined in a beautiful song Minnie Tyler had never heard. 

“That was so wonderful.  You couldn’t have made that up.  I mean, you were all playing and singing together so beautifully.”

“We’ve been singing that song for years, Miss Tyler,”  Dillie Jessup commented.

“Well, Dillie Jessup, you’ve certainly all kept mighty quiet about it." 

“It’s just something we do at home, especially in the wintertime when we’re stuck indoors.”

Through the winter, the students practiced their football on nice days and did their gymnastics, singing and dulcimer playing on nasty days.  All the while, they learned mathematics, geometry, physics, astronomy, Latin, French, Old English, poetry, literature, history, geography, religion, and so much more. They even began playing football with some of their parents.

Minnie Tyler noticed that she had met every single parent except for the parents of Boyd Stanton.  They never came to anything.  Because most of the students lived on small farms that were spread apart, she was unlikely to run into them.  People largely kept to themselves.

One afternoon in late spring, as students left school to go home to do chores, Minnie Tyler called out to Boyd Stanton. “Boyd Stanton, can I talk to you a minute?” “Sure, Miss Tyler.”  “Boyd, I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve noticed that your parents don’t seem to make it to the school.  I’ve never even met them.” ”Well, Miss Tyler, my pa’s handicapped and has to be in a wheel chair. He can’t get around very good.  My ma doesn’t like to leave him by hisself, I mean himself.  They’d like to come to things, but it’s just not possible.”  “Well, Boyd Stanton, I’m sure some of the other parents could help out somehow.” “My pa’s a proud man, Miss Tyler.  He’s also pretty angry a lot of the time. He got injured back when he was just twenty somethin’, right after I was born.  He feels sorry for hisself, I mean himself, a lot, and just has a lot of anger that comes out.”  “Again, I don’t mean to pry, but is he mean to your mother or to you?”  “He can be mean to me and sometimes to ma, but it’s just talk. We try to understand. He’s a good man.”

Minnie Tyler did some discrete asking about Boyd Stanton’s family.  At the same time, the students  decided to put on the school’s first day long spring festival.  Minnie Tyler found out that it was Boyd Stanton’s father who had made the dulcimers and had given them to the school.  He was obviously a good man, but a man who felt constrained by his handicap.  She screwed up all the courage, charm, and determination she could muster.  On the morning of the festival she decided to go out to the Stanton’s farm.  She had a pickup truck, which she had prepared to secure a person in a wheelchair.  It might not be highway legal, but was fine for the short drive from the farm to the school.

Minnie Tyler left the festival in the hands of several parents and headed out. She knocked on the front door of the Stanton’s house.  Mrs. Stanton answered.  She was a large woman, but also a very soft-spoken and gentle woman.  “Mrs. Stanton.  Can I speak with you for a minute?”  A voice cried out from inside the house.  “Lula, whose that at the front door?  Tell’em we ain’t got no need for what they’re trying to sell!”  Minnie Tyler managed to speak to Mrs. Stanton and then  went right into the house and marched up to Mr. Stanton, who seemed shocked to see this small, young woman approach him with such determination. Just as she had pulled up a wooden crate and looked young Boyd Stanton straight in the eyes on that first day of the school year, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and looked Mr. Stanton, straight in the eyes.  “Mr. Stanton, my name’s Minnie Tyler and I’m the teacher at your son’s school.  We’re having a big festival today and we want you to be there. We know you made the absolutely wonderful dulcimers the students enjoy playing so much.  You need to be there to hear them and be with everyone. “

“Listen here.  I’m  a cripple.  I don’t go nowhere. So, I thank you for the invite but I’m afraid I can’t make it.”

“What’s my name?”

“What did you ask me?”

“What’s my name, Mr. Stanton?”

“Why, it’s Minnie Tyler.  Boyd talks about you all the time.  He really likes you. You’ll have to forgive me, Miss Tyler, but I’ve got some things to do.”

“Like what, Mr. Stanton?  You seem to have shaved and have on your day clothes.  Have you been to the bathroom?”  Minnie Tyler stayed seated, still looking Mr. Stanton straight in the eyes.

“I don’t see as that is any of your business, Miss Tyler. You’re kinda pushy, ain’t ya?

”He’s been to the bathroom, Miss Tyler,” Mrs. Stanton broke in.

“Well, Mr. Stanton, I can’t imagine anything more important than being with your son and his friends today.  Don’t you agree, Mrs. Stanton?”

On that note, Minnie Tyler got up. She and Mrs. Stanton lifted the wheelchair and got Mr. Stanton through the front door, into the front yard, and into the back of the pickup before he knew what was going on. Minnie Tyler strapped him in securely and then she and Mrs. Stanton got into the cab of the truck.  They made their way to the school where folks were all over the place enjoying the festival. The sound of dulcimers, bells, and singing filled the air. The pommel horse and balance beams had been moved outside, and students showed off their gymnastics skills.  Several of the men lifted Mr. Stanton from the back of the pickup and wheeled him over to the front of the school house.  A ramp had been built to allow Mr. Stanton to be wheeled into the schoolhouse.  A couple of ladies quickly offered the Stantons glasses of punch and some snacks. 

Mr. Stanton was so taken aback by all of this that he didn’t have time to react.  Then, both he and Mrs. Stanton were stunned when a hush fell over the small crowd and an angelic voice could be heard from inside the schoolhouse.  Minnie Tyler wheeled Mr. Stanton into the schoolhouse to hear his son play the dulcimer and sing a beautiful mountain song.  Without even thinking about it, Mr. Stanton began singing along with his son.  It was clear where Boyd got his musical talent.  Minnie Tyler put a dulcimer in front of Mr. Stanton and placed the mallets in his hands. He began playing a duet with his son, tears streaming from his eyes. Years of anger and self-pity washed away from his face.

“You know, Miss Tyler,” Byron Page, Leah Page’s grandfather, said to Minnie Tyler, “I never guessed you would have lasted two seconds here.  How you’ve tamed this wild bunch has been beyond me.”  Byron Page was one of the men who  discussed Minnie Tyler’s appearance in town when she first arrived the previous summer.

“Well, Mr. Page, when I finished up my college study, I knew I wanted to be a teacher.  I also knew that I couldn’t teach just anywhere.  When I found out about this place, everyone tried to talk out of coming here. They all said I might as well go to Timbuktu.  I drove here in early summer and just fell in love.  I knew I had to teach here.”

“I guess you’ll probably be movin’ on though, just like all the others who’ve come and gone over the years.”

“What’s my name?”

“It’s Miss Tyler.”

“Mr. Byron Page, I’m here for the long haul.  Oliver’s Gulch is home to me now.”

Miss Tyler was in it for the long haul.  She taught at Oliver’s Gulch for thirty years and only stopped teaching  when the student population dropped to only four students.  Those students  went to live with relatives in other communities during the school year.  The football team she started  continued as long as there were at least six players on the team.  Gymnastics, singing, and even drama were always a part of student life. Minnie Tyler continued to fill her students with the sounds of Frost, Sandburg, Keats, Angelou, Shakespeare, and many others from all times and all places. 

When Minnie Tyler’s last days of teaching in Oliver’s Gulch were on the horizon,  the folks who had seen what she had done over the years felt they needed to honor her.  Of course,  the children she taught  in the past had long since gone on to other things.  Most went to college.  It was likely that Oliver’s Gulch would have dried up on its own, but Minnie Tyler always had mixed feelings about  her role in it.  She would wonder whatever it was she had done to do get her students to think about  what lay beyond the mountains that surrounded their isolated community.  So much of what she did was spontaneous and intuitive.  One morning, Minnie Tyler, who bought the house she had had a room in all those years, heard the sounds of dulcimers, bells and voices coming from a distance.  She dressed and went outside.

As she walked toward the old schoolhouse, she became overwhelmed by the sight of hundreds of former students who had come back to see her.  The first question each one asked her was, “What’s my name, Miss Tyler?” She knew each and every one by name. The parents  and relatives of many of the former students, including the Stantons, were also there.   After much singing, playing, eating, drinking, and game playing, the large group came together.  Leah Page invited everyone to close their eyes and silently pray “The Lord’s Prayer,” or any other prayer of their choice.  After the prayer, a solitary voice, that of Boyd Stanton, began reciting the “Preamble” to the U.S. Constitution.  Gradually, everyone – former students, relatives, and friends – joined in. 

To close out the festivities on a happy note, Willie Starfield, who had gone on to great success as an engineer and building contractor, announced that the little schoolhouse was going to be completely restored, and that he and others were going to establish an educational retreat built on the philosophy that had served them so well thought the years. He kept his remarks brief, but concluded by noting  that “Miss Minnie Tyler  made us realize that even though we lived in Oliver’s Gulch, a place no one had ever heard of much less been to, we were truly special people with names that were ‘nice names, strong names, and good names.’ “  He unveiled a signed to be placed above the entrance to the schoolhouse.  It read:  “Though no bulldozer will ever flatten this building or the spirits of those who were privileged to study, learn, and play here, we,the Oliver’s Gulch ‘Bulldozers,’ will never forget everything our teacher, Miss Minnie Tyler, inspired and instilled in us. And by the way, the desks inside this schoolhouse were never used!”   Below that was a quotation from Minnie Tyler that no one would ever forget:  “What’s my name?”