20. The Sophomore Year ... THE FARM EAST OF PINE VILLAGE

The year 1969 marked the fiftieth anniversary of the Warren County 4-H Club Free Fair, as the event was named in the catalog of contests. After the thrills of the week began fading away as memories, Robert anticipated his sophomore year at Pine Village High School. On the opening day, Robert met the new English teacher. As she wrote her name on the chalkboard with big letters and bold strokes, she said, loudly enough for all to hear, “My name is Miss Matthews—with two t’s!” She clacked the chalk beneath the two t’s in her name. With a freshly minted degree, Miss Matthews was teaching for the first time. She brooked no nonsense.

And Robert learned so much about literature and writing from Miss Matthews that he would eventually earn three college degrees in those subjects!

Before her, Mr. Cavanaugh, Mrs. French, and Mrs. Wilson had done their part to bring Robert forward in his understanding of English. Miss Matthews continued his education and brought him to the level of sophistication that would stand him in good stead for a long career.

On that very first day, Robert sensed that Miss Matthews was the proverbial force to be reckoned with, and, thereafter, he dotted every i and crossed every t, including both t’s in Matthews.

While Robert’s class slogged through Julius Caesar, Robert suddenly looked up past Miss Matthews, his eyes fogged over, and he pictured Shakespeare’s play as a farce. The tedium of inching forward through Elizabethan English melted away as Robert visualized comical scene after comical scene.

He enlisted Dennis’ help, and, before long, a script, of sorts, had emerged. Mr. Boots readily consented to their request to use the Wollensak reel-to-reel tape recorder. It remained to free not only themselves but also various classmates from the study hall, so that recording could take place in the band room.

As if the cosmos had been listening, Mr. Boots, the band director, volunteered to give Dennis and Robert signed hall passes, allowing them (and others) to spend study hours in the band department filing music. Given such an unlimited supply of passes, Robert, Dennis, and their cast of aspiring actors and actresses enjoyed ample time to record Julius Caesar, the comedy.

One day, Robert and Dennis came to Miss Matthews’ class with the large Wollensak in hand.

“Why do you have a tape recorder?” Miss Matthews asked, wondering if she should say “no” automatically or listen to whatever answer might be forthcoming.

“We have a recording that pertains to our study of Julius Caesar,” Robert replied.

The tug-of-war in Miss Matthews’ mind was visible on her face. Deciding to risk her classroom control, she said, “Alright. You can play it, but I decide when to shut off the machine.”

The class leaned forward eagerly as the stereo tape began to play. Again and again, laughter erupted. Miss Matthews kept saying, “Shhh!” but finally gave up. She sat at her desk, and—guess what?—she smiled! To her lasting credit, she smiled and smiled. Then she laughed! As funny voice after funny voice lent itself to a fractured version of Shakespeare’s tragedy, Miss Matthews laughed hysterically.

It was a triumph!

After such a success, Robert chose to set an even more preposterous goal.

Mr. John Taylor, coach and biology teacher, had a flat-top, a piercing stare, and a commanding presence, Mr. Taylor had a zero-tolerance policy regarding noise from elementary students. When grade school boys made too much of a racket in the restroom, Mr. Taylor banged open the door and stood like a gladiator ready for battle with a paddle in his hand. Had any student a pin to drop, you knew it would have been heard.

In grade school, Robert had feared Mr. Taylor, but having taken Mr. Taylor’s freshman biology class had convinced Robert that Mr. Taylor actually had a kind heart. As a sophomore, Robert and a senior named Ted put their heads together. Mr. Taylor was now the principal. Temporarily encumbered by a cast on his leg, he spent much of his day in a wheelchair. Ted was excellent at drawing souped-up sports cars, and Robert could sketch people’s portraits. So the two of them created an oil painting of Mr. Taylor in a smoking, fire-breathing hot rod of a wheelchair leaving a trail of dust taller than the gym as he zoomed around the school!

When Ted and Robert presented the painting to Mr. Taylor, Robert was fairly certain that Mr. Taylor would sentence them to hard labor; much to Robert’s surprise, Mr. Taylor held the painting as if he had just won the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes! He was smiling! “You guys painted this? This shows real talent!” When he looked up at the artists, he had the merest hint of a tear in his eye! Mission accomplished! It was true that the lion had a heart of gold!

Ted could play anything by ear on a keyboard, and he also performed on bass guitar. He played in a band named Bayou Inhabitance. Robert’s class booked the band for an evening’s entertainment on January 23rd, 1970, at a cost to the class treasury of fifty dollars. Ted and Robert created a poster with caricatures of the band members.

Local musicians fulfilled many significant functions in Pine Village, as they had for generations. Samuel C. Fenton, born in 1877, may have been high strung, but he was a talented musician. On hot summer evenings, residents sat on their porches and listened to his melodious playing. He performed with several bands in northwestern Indiana. Ultimately, Samuel played cornet in the well-known band led by Arthur Willard Pryor, who had served as assistant conductor of John Philip Sousa’s band and who was a famous trombonist. Pryor composed “The Whistler and His Dog,” a popular concert piece. Eventually, Samuel split his lip and decided to forgo the cornet. He returned to Pine Village, where he gave piano lessons.

Samuel’s first cousin, Charles Albert “Charley” or “Cobbie” Cobb, born in 1883, played several instruments. Charley organized his own band, known as “Cobbie’s Band.” Lena (Fenton) Rhode, born in 1884, a first cousin of Samuel and Charley, studied piano at the Chicago Conservatory. She served as pianist for the Methodist Church in Pine Village. In her seventies, Lena continued to play hymns, but the minister occasionally had to awaken her.

Samuel, the trumpeter with the split lip, was married to Bessie Ogborn (1881–1967), daughter of Levi Ogborn. Samuel and Bessie had one daughter, Dorothy Fenton, who became an accomplished pianist. For graduation exercises way back in 1919, Dorothy joined Adele LaPlante in performing the “Poet and Peasant Overture” piano duet.

Charles and Robert revived the “Poet and Peasant Overture” and played it publicly several times. The brothers wore matching polyester sports coats in a lizard green and pumpkin orange plaid.

Charles was considering universities. The family had made a trip to Bloomington that Robert later recalled as hilly, wooded, and filled with limestone buildings, unlike the red brick structures on the Purdue campus. Charles selected Indiana University.

  

33. The Obstacle Course ... THE FARM IN PINE VILLAGE

Robert glanced toward the front gate and saw Alan, the boys’ cousin, about to come in. Alan lived in Ladoga and was visiting his grandmother, Lena Rhode, who lived in Pine Village. Lena resembled the sweet old woman in the illustrations in one of the children’s books that Ida had read to Robert when he was small: white hair in a braid encircling her head, wire-rim glasses, and an embroidered apron. In the book, the woman popped corn, and Robert wondered how often Lena did the same.

Robert ran to meet Alan, whom he looked up to. A visit from Alan meant fun on the farm. Charles sauntered through the screen door and waved at Alan.

Alan was closer to Charles’ age, and the two of them devised what Robert considered fascinating games that he could not have imagined on his own.

Ida came to the door to greet Alan.

“Can you stay with us for dinner?” she asked Alan.

“Yes,” Alan said simply.

“Then you boys play for an hour, and I’ll have dinner ready by then.”

“What would you like to do?” Charles asked Alan, who glanced at a red Schwinn bicycle lying on its side.

“Let’s ride the bike,” he suggested.

After taking turns riding back and forth on the sidewalk a few times within the yard, Alan and Charles decided to take the bicycle through the south gate into the chicken yard.

The boys cleared an oval track around the westernmost chicken house. They had to move a five-gallon metal bucket out of the way, and they had to pull up gypsum weeds by their roots along the south side of the chicken house. Soon, Charles and Alan were alternating fast rides around the building while Robert watched.

“Would you like to ride next?” Alan asked Robert.

“Yes, I would!” Robert exclaimed.

Alan turned toward Charles. “I think your brother would like to take a turn.”

Charles yielded the bike to Robert, who pedaled slowly at first but eventually gained enough speed to keep the bike from wobbling. The boys had gone around the track often enough that the path had grown dusty. It felt soft beneath the tires.

After Robert had made two circuits, Alan said, “You know what we need. We need an obstacle course.”

Charles agreed. He and Alan placed the metal bucket directly in the path. Then they took turns steering around it while riding at top speed.

While Charles rode, Alan looked over a small metal drum and the unhinged door from a hog house. When Charles came to a stop, Alan said, “Why don’t we lay this barrel on its side and lean this door on it to make a ramp? Then we could ride the bike up the ramp, fly through the air, and come down on the other side.”

Charles smiled broadly the moment he heard the plan. He and Alan tugged the drum into place and propped the door to make the ramp, which was steeper than either he or Alan had realized it would be.

“What do you think?” Alan asked. “Can we keep the bike upright after flying through the air?”

“I think so,” Charles said.

“I dare you to go first,” Alan said.

“I double dare you to go first,” Charles replied.

“Well, alright!” Alan said. “If you’re going to double dare me, I suppose I’ll have to show you how it’s done.”

He set the bucket out of the way, so that the oval was clear, except for the ramp, which seemed pointed at the sky. Alan rode once around the chicken house to gain speed. On the second pass, he bounced the front wheel over the edge of the wooden door. The bike dashed up the incline and dropped heavily just beyond the upper edge. Alan stayed standing on the pedals as a cloud of dust arose, and, wobbling to the right and back to the left, he kept the bike upright. The stunt was magnificent! Robert applauded in glee!

“Now it’s your turn,” Alan said to Charles.

Having had the advantage of watching Alan, Charles imitated his predecessor’s strategy as exactly as he could. He built up his speed around the track, and, the second time around, he flew up the ramp. With his legs almost straight up from the pedals, he rode the bike in its short arc back to Mother Earth and managed to pedal the bicycle forward beyond the dust cloud marking the point of impact.

“That was impressive,” Alan said, in his customary droll manner.

“Robert, would you like to try?”

Robert quickly declined the opportunity. Shaking his head, he said, “I’m not old enough.”

“Shall we go again?” Alan asked. He accepted the handlebars from Charles and made his second attempt, which was less wobbly than his first. Then it was Charles’ turn again.

This time, Charles had a little less speed than he had on his first effort. When he reached the top of the ramp, the bike leaned to one side, and he and the bike fell.

“Oh, no!” Alan said. “Are you alright?”

Charles dusted himself off. He had torn the knee of his jeans, and he had a small cut on one elbow; otherwise, he had come away unscathed.

“Boys!” Ida called from the back door. “Dinner’s ready! Charles, go get your father!”

Charles walked to the barn to tell Joe it was time to eat the noon meal.

When everyone entered the kitchen, Ida looked at Charles and asked, “How did you rip your jeans?”

“I fell off the bike,” Charles said.

“You should have seen it!” Robert said, but a look from Charles made Robert understand he was not to reveal the dangerous ramp, which the boys had dismantled. “He just … fell … off!” Robert extemporized.

“Put some tincture Merthiolate on his elbow while I give the boys their Fizzies,” Ida said to Joe.

Alan, Charles, and Robert eagerly dropped the Fizzies tablets in their glasses and watched as the flavored bubbles rose through the water.

After the meal, Ida told Charles to change his pants and to bring her the torn jeans. When she straightened out the rolled up cuffs, a handful of dust fell from each one.

“What were you boys doing?” she asked, with an inkling of the truth.

No one replied.

“Whatever it was, nobody was seriously hurt, at least,” she said, as she prepared a patch for the jeans.

As Joe had to go to Keith’s shop for a tractor part anyway, he drove Alan back to Lena’s house. Having had great fun, Robert looked forward to more adventures the next time Alan would visit.