memories #5

                                                      BUZZY

     Animas school is now a museum in North Durango.  Prior to it’s closure the school at three grade levels, was three stories high and had three teachers.  I remember all three teachers.  Mrs. Bell,  Mrs. Reams and Mrs. Green.  I transferred in the middle of the third grade to newly built Needhim elementary.  I have been corrected on the number of grades Animas school had.  Some folks tell me there were four grades there.  It was, however, an awesome sight to a first grader.  It looked like a huge block of cement with windows in a gigantic slide from the third story to ground level.  The slide was used as a fire escape and my first scary ride.  For a first grader it was a long way down.

     I may have been the last of a generation to have had my hand smacked by a ruler for writing with my left hand.  Mrs. Bell never “smacked” my hand, she gently tapped it.  I was stubborn and she was ready to retire.  Eventually she gave up.

     First grade teaches the foundation for some of life’s social skills.  How to get along with others, not to hit girls, how to trade sack lunches etc.  It is also the time when the opposite sex become interesting.  Many will tell you that it happens later.  Not true.  You can fall in love at any age.  Trust me, I know.  

     Her name was Evelyn “Buzzy” Buswell.  I was in love!  She batted her eyes and I followed her like an obedient puppy.  I wanted to give her something to show her how I felt.  Dandelion flowers weren’t enough.  A raid on my sister’s doll supply found a doll that would do the trick.  She accepted my token in exchange for a ripe plum.  We went our separate ways after that until Jr. high

     The seventh grade was the pits!  I hated school work.  Everyone else was so big.  Our Junior high held seventh through ninth grades.

     I flirted with Buzzy once again.  We played a crazy game of tease and poke and other juvenile games that indicated interest in each other.  Little did I know that someone else was showing interest in her.  I hadn’t met this guy but I knew I didn’t like him.  Fred Klatt!  Dirty jerk.  He hadn’t even gone to the same grade school has Buzzy and I.  We had a history!  But she flirted with him too.  I should have gotten mad at her, but that’s not how the game is played.

     A call to arms!  A show down!  We would meet after school and settle this like two fearless warriors out to win the hand of the fair maiden.  When it was over Fred would be sorry he ever saw me.  (I had only had one fist fight before this and I’m not sure if a punch was thrown.)  

     Junior high and high school fistfights, regardless of the severity, always draw a crowd.  News travels fast.  Sides were chosen and excitement bubbles throughout the school.  Fred and I met  across the street from the school on a grassy spot.  Buzzy stayed on the school grounds and watched  

Fred and Mickey best friends

    

We squared off, each waiting to see what the other was going to do.  A few words were said, none of which I remember and the crowd around us buzzed.  More words and stares as we tried to gain the upper hand in this mental war before the actual combat.  This went on for about 15 minutes.  A long time for no actual blows to be thrown.  Finally, Fred fired a short right to my jaw.  I countered with a left to his jaw.

     We backed off from each other, stunned but not down.  Each of us now evaluating the other’s next move.   As if in unison we both looked across the street to see if our fair maiden was watching.   No such luck.  She was there but with some eighth grade boy and could care less about us.

     Fred and I shook hands vowing to never cross paths again regarding females.  We didn’t and became the best of friends throughout the next six years of school.  Buzzy also remained a close friend.  We just never dated each other after that.

My friend , Fred.  You look good in pink ..

All these years and still a friend

Author’s note:

     When I wrote this story I shared it with Fred Klatt.  His comment was, “I remember this somewhat differently “, he smiled.  I didn’t ask what he remembered differently.  In his mind, I probably lost the fight badly and he left with Buzzy.  We never asked Buzzy.  I wonder what she remembered.