Teacher Jail - Alaska

Family Secrets- Teacher Jail


In September of 2003 I wrote an article for the Independence Examiner that got be in all sorts of trouble.  It was a humorous article, or so I thought, of what lengths teacher's would go through or thought about going through to be able to drink alcohol in "dry" Eskimo Villages (see blog November 2010.)  My intent was to make fun of us, the teachers, and not them, the Eskimos.  However I hit a nerve when I mentioned that in Hooper Bay..."most native men and many women drank alcohol."  It was like I dared to mention the 600 pound walrus sitting in the living room that everyone was ignoring.

Eventually the Police Chief of Hooper Bay or one of his associates became aware of the article and some how it was circulated around the village.  The Police Chief was a nice person and not vindictive, so I suspect if he was the culprit he would have said something to me so the entire situation could have been straightened out right away.  However no one said anything for a very long time and no telling how long the pot boiled with displeasure.

One day in April the principal informed me that the village native chief wanted to talk to me.  I told him sure, send him on over to the the classroom.  The Chief never showed up.  A week later the District School Superintendent came to the village and told me to come see him after school.

When we met he immediately showed me a photocopy of the article I had written back in September and said he was concerned that I had written it.  I asked him if there was anything in the article that was not accurate.  He didn't comment directly, he just repeated that he was concerned.  We sat there in silence for awhile and then he told me that the village chief had informed him that the former mayor of the village was upset and had threatened to shoot me.  He went on to say that everyone knew the mayor had a tendency to get drunk now and then and that his threat should be taken seriously.  The superintendent told me to pack my bags and I was to fly to the district office with him.

I was a little dumbfounded and didn't know what the big deal was.  I mean how could a guy get into trouble just telling the truth.  Being a history major I should have known that the truth some times stings more than a lie. 

The school district headquarters was located in Mountain Village a couple of hundred miles away.  They maintained a dormitory there for travelling employees.  The district fixed me up with a room, provided me with kitchen priviledges, and provided me with a charge account at the local store to buy food and necessities.  Other than showing me my room no administrator spoke to me for over a week.

Eventually I was given an assignment to work with a couple of local native ladies grading a district wide test.  I did this for the next six weeks.  The ladies and I became friends after awhile and one invited me over to her house for dinner.  She asked me why I was there and I told her.  She seemed sort of relieved and told me that the rumor was that I was a child molester and that I was taken out of the village while an investigation was taking place.  I asked her to please put that rumor to rest.

None of the administrative staff really talked to me about what to expect or when I could return or what my status was or would be.  I had learned many years ago that when you come to an impasse in any situation the one who seems most anxious to reach a conclusion is the one who talks first and the one who talks first usually looses.  I said nothing to anyone.  The administration and I were playing a waiting game.  I knew they could not fire me because I had done nothing to break the contract.  If I had lost my temper and just left then I would have forfeited my pay and be in breach of our contract and certainly would not have been employed by them again or any other district in Alaska.  I had signed a contract a couple of months earlier with the district but did not know if it had been certified by the board.  It was hard to make plans for the next year and I must admit I was stressed about the whole thing.

One day about a week before school was out, the Human Resource Director, whom I had known for a few years and were friends with somewhat, stopped me in the hall and asked me if anyone had shown me my contract for next year.  He then pulled out my file showed me the contract that had been approved two days before I was exiled to Mountain Village.  I did not mention the fact that I knew I had a job the next year to any of the administrators but did walk around with a smirk on my face for awhile.  I had won.

They flew me back to Hooper Bay and I mailed my stuff to the school I would be at the next year.  Most of the teachers had already left and all but three of the villagers ignored me.  Three men came by whom I had befriended and them me the last couple of years, part of the maintenance staff, and each shook my hand.  That meant a lot to me.

I was very bitter for awhile but as time passed I thought perhaps I should have been a little moor sensitive about making fun concerning the use of alcohol in the village.  Alcohol is a problem in every village I lived in and nothing I said in the article was not true.  However somethings should just be left unsaid I guess.

Van Horn and Other Friends - Senior

My senior year was a good year.  I joke to others that the pinnacle of my life was when I was 17 and 18 years old and it has been going down ever since.  Well not really true of course but it was a year that many good things happened to me at Van Horn, most of which were blind luck and coincidental.

Football summer practice was just as miserable as it had been the previous three years.  Tom and Tim were again the two best players we had on the team but I was by far the luckiest.  The first stroke of luck I had was misfortune for another.  My position at center was pretty well established but due to a coaching decision I was moved to the defense and a guy named Orin Walker was put in at center.  He was big and strong so there wasn't anyway I was going to be able to regain my position, but I really didn't care, there was room for us all and overall we would have been a better team.  But then Orin broke something, foot, hand, wrist, I forget.  He was out and I was back in.  As an aside that was a life changer for Orin.  He was good enough and perhaps could have gotten a scholarship to play at college.  I had forgotten all that until our 45th class reunion when Orin reminded me of what had happened.
Anyway our team went on to have a losing season again but because of my name, Snapper and my flare for the dramatics while on the field, those that selected players for special recognition would remember me and cast their vote my way.  It sounds very egotistical to relate now but it is what it was.  That year I made second team all conference, first team all area, first team all district, lineman of the year for the Independence Examiner, the First Team All Star for the Kansas City Star,  and All Star Lineman for the KC Star.  To top it off I made First Team All State and Honorable Mention High School All American.  Wow, did my head expand.  Forget the fact that Tim and Tom could kick my ass any day of the week, Orin too if he hadn't been crippled up.  Luck and coincidental things have happened to be all my life.  I think the scientific name for it is synchronicity.

I received 26 scholar ship offers that year, visited many of the big 8 schools, interviewed with Dan Devine and double dated with Earl Denney from MU.  However the big University schools knew what they were doing and passed on me and the offers I had were from the smaller schools around the country.  The smaller schools didn't give "full rides" and I did not have enough money to attend them.  I remember Montana State and West Texas State were very interested.  The Freshman Coach from MU came and visited me after my interview with Dan Devine and told me flat out that they did not think I was Big Eight material but wanted to keep me in the state and perhaps after a couple of years playing for a smaller school I would be ready for the big time.  He told me to pick any school in the state of Missouri and they would make sure I received sufficient funds to attend.  Northwest Missouri State and Southwest Missouri State immediately contacted me and I chose SMS.

The rest of the school year was a typical Senior year.  I learned to drink beer that year, ran around with my friends,  did OK grade wise but never managed to get more than a 2.5 grade average, continued to date Jan most of the time, and was just the cock of the walk, at least in my own mind. There are a lot of little stories about that year that stand out but perhaps they are for another time.

Towards the end of school that year I knew that in just a matter of weeks my life as I had known it up till then would completely change and I plunged towards graduation with the same insecurities as most of my fellow students.

On graduation night my dad gave me a watch and my grandfather gave me a ring that his dad had given him.  I still have the watch in my jewelry box and the ring I gave to my oldest grandson at his graduation.

That summer MU got me a job working for the highway department and Jan and I started dating again pretty steadily.  The job allowed me to save just enough money to ease the financial burden of going to college along with my scholarship and sometime in August Jan and I had what would end up being our last date.  We communicated a couple of times after that and I ran into her once by accident years later just for a few minutes, but in actuality have had no real communication for the last 45 years and don't suspect we will.

The morning I left for college my grandmother and grandfather cried and as I drove off to yet another great adventure I went by Van Horn and waved good by.  I think I might have shed a tear or two myself.
   Good By.....

Van Horn and Other Friends - Junior

               

The infomous thing that happend to all of us that year was the assanation of President Kennedy.  We all knew where we were when we heard the news.  I had Mr. Simonie that year also and when the news came over the intercom that the president had been shot Mr. Simonie apparently suspended the no prayer in school rule and we all did.  Later a girl came into the class and crying said that JFK had died. 

Other than that things were pretty much as they should have been. 

Again I went out for football and because the Senior boys were mad at the head coach, Fessler, they decided not to go all save one guy.  Becasue of that fluke I was able to make the starting line up.  Summer practice was as miserable as always.  After school began Fessler had a team meeting and said that he had been approached by the Senior boys and they wanted to come out.  Fessler said it was up to us "but just remeber you are the ones who went through summer practice not them."  We all voted and only the one Senior voted to allow them to come out. "Hey, these guys are my friends."  As a team we should have probably let them come out and I sort of wish we had looking back on it.  They were just a bunch of overly excuberent kids flexing their independence but then so were we.  We only won four games that year and I don't know if we would have done better with the older kids.  The one good thing that came out of it is that I was voted by the league to the second string all star team alond with Tim Bly and Tom Koehly.  Tom might have made first team I am not sure.  Those two guys got their recognition for their ability, I think I got mine becasue of my name and being a center I had less competition through out the conference.  Tom was a guard and Tim was in the back field.  Of course having a nickname like Snapper didn't hurt much.  There was a small article in the KC Star whoese headline was "What's In a Name"..."Well if it is Snapper McAnally then it is because he is the center on the Van Horn football team."  Little did they know that I was known as Snapper long before I ever played center.  Just a little fluke.

It had been a tradition that only Senior girls were nominated for Home Coming Queen.  But due to the fact that that the Senior boys were not on the team and the football team nomiated the queen canidates there were only a couple of Senior girls nominated.  I nominaed Jan and she and a couple of other Junior girls were the first Junior girls ever to be queen canidates.  I don't know who the Home Coming Queen was that year but I think it was a Senior.

I went out for the swim team again but they started having practice in the mornig and not after school and I didn't want to get up that early and walk that far.  Besides Tom K. got a care that year as did Bob Davis a life long friend and one of them would pick me up each morning.  I wasn't about to walk unless I just had to.

Again I don't remeber much about my academic life that year except I took Latin and sort of liked it and was lucky to have a very good teacher, Mr. Medina.  I even was voted presdent of the Latin Club and along with Mary Beth Steinemeyer wrote a play that our class performed in front of state wide Latin Club covention in Columbia, Missour.  I also remember that I had a lot of fun going to parties and dances and even out on real dates with Jan.  Her parents didn't like me much, but they would not have liked any boy their daughter was going out with.  They didn't think she ought to be going steady with anyone they were right of course although not very practical, where young "love" is concerned where there is a will there is a way.  They did allow us to go out one day every other week or so and the rest of the time we would just meet at parties behind their backs.  Now and then I would have one of my buddies pick her up.  I don't think Jan wanted to go steady either and in fact she decided to go to the prom that year with someone else.  I got another date and the poor girl had a miserable time I am sure.  I have always felt a little bad about that.

Jan was very talented.  She was in all the musicals that year and if she didn't have the female staring role she was the co-star and of course becasue we wre both sort of well known we fed off oneanothers popularity.

I think I went out for track that year but soon found out that I didn't have abilty to do anything.  I wasn't fast enough to be a runner, and wasn't strong enough to participate in the field events and was to lazy to work on either.

The other big thing that happend towards the end of the year was that I got a drivers licese.  Things really changed after that and my Senior year would be one of the best years of my life up till then.

Van Horn and Other Friends - Sophmore Year

Tenth grade started early for me because that year I went to summer football practice.  It was three weeks of "getting in shape" and learning the plays and practice skill necessary to have a successful winning season. Which we did not.  It was terribly hot and not much fun but some how I survived and made the varsity along with two other guys.  Tim Bly and Tom Koehly.   The first game was against Chrisman and as luck would have it I picked up a fumble and ran for what I told everyone was 40 yards, but I think it was more like 10 in actuality.  However my varsity career didn't last long and eventually I was sent back to the B-Team or junior varsity.  Tim and Tom stayed put.  Coach Wally Crawford was the junior varsity coach and a good one.  He taught me a lot that year and cut me little slack.  It was a very good coaching decision and let me get a lot more playing time so as to hone what little skill I really had.  One coach told me that I had no real innate ability but I didn't mind getting knocked down.  For some reason I always felt that was great compliment.

I have no recollection of my classes that year except English with Mr. Simonie.  I don't remember much of what he taught but remember him explaining what was going on in Julius Caesar and Tale of Two Cities.  I have liked literature ever since.  Mr. Simonie was a real neat guy I thought and was the example of the type of a teacher I wanted to be after hearing a college professor tell me once that "sometimes the subject matter is the least important thing you teach in a classroom."  Mr. Simonie's teaching and my student tenure would cross several times over the next few years.

Jan Allison was my first real girl friend.  We were introduced by Fritz Siple and Connie Dewey.  Jan and I would be an on again off again item till we left for college three years later.  Our dates consisted of parties that some of the kids would have and attending the sporting events by taking the school buses that were always provided.  We would leave at half time and be the first ones on the buss and pass the time away doing what boy friend and girl friend did back then.

I did go out for the swimming team again, made it, lettered, and took 5th in the all city swim event and our relay team took 2nd.

I don't recall much else about that year except I made a bunch of new friends because the kids from around the Blue Ridge area from Pitcher School were sent to Van Horn instead of East and Northeast that year.  That included Jan and a host of others.  Many are still friends to this day.

Van Horn and Other Friends - Freshman Year

Between my 8th and 9th grade year I must not have grown very much.  While walking the now familiar path to Van Horn I realized that I had on the same outfit I had worn the first day of school the previous year.

My Freshman year stands out only a little more than the one that had preceded it.  There were a lot of "firsts" however and some of those set the stage for developments that would follow me through my high school career and make it an enjoyable experience.

I went out football late that year.  I didn't know that there were tryouts before school started so when I was informed by one of my classmates that there was a Freshman football team I decided to give it a try.  I didn't know much about the game but talked my way on the team.  On a Monday I received my helmet and pads and on Wednesday we played Paseo's Freshman.  The coach looked around frantically grabbed me by the arm and told me to get in for the right tackle.  I had no idea what he meant or what I was supposed to do.  I looked puzzled.  "Just get in there and get the guy who has the ball!"  Luckily we were on defense or I would have jumped on the back of our own quarter back.  One of the guys on the team told me to stand where the right tackle was supposed to stand and when everyone started running around I did too and jumped on the guy with a different colored jersey making him fumble and I some how landed on the ball.  The coach was very impressed.  My reputation was made because of my good luck.  We lost the game however.

I met two girls that year, one named Susan the other Carol.  Not much developed from that.  In fact I am not sure we even had a real date.

They were starting a swim team that year so I went out for that.  I did pretty good.  I was the only one on the team that could do the butterfly with any degree of speed so I was put on the Medley Relay team swimming the butterfly leg.  I also did the Individual Medley but never won the race because I could not seem to master the breast stroke and always fell behind and could not catch up on the freestyle portion.  But I did manage to usually come in second or third.  I did well enough to earn a varsity letter that year.  I was one of the few Freshman qualified to walk around in a letter jacket.

My academics classes are a mystery to me overall.  But I do remember having Mr. Browder for Biology and Mrs White for Citizenship.

My circle of friends were growing and even though I still maintained contact with my old friends, unless they lived in my neighborhood, they seemed to drift away one by one, some never to be heard from again.  But just as some drifted away some new ones drifted towards and many would play a prominent role in the rest of my time at Van Horn and there is at least one guy I made friends with that year that is still one my best buds.

Van Horn and Other Friends - 8th Grade

At the start of the school year in 1960 I put on my best pair of pants, matching short sleeve shirt and headed off walking to what up till then would be the greatest adventure of my life - High School.

It was over a mile away but walking to school back then was no big deal.  I encountered a couple of friends along the way and the closer we got the more our little contingent grew.

I don't remember what we talked about and don't recall how I ended up in my first class.  I do remember the class was called Common Learning's and the teacher was Mr. Fridel, the first man teacher I had ever had other than the weekly visit from Mr. Green the PE teacher at Mt Washington Elementary School.  (as an aside years later I would be a co teacher with Mr. Green in Sedalia, Missouri.)

Common Learning's was a two and half hour class.  The first hour was devoted to history, the second to English, and the last half hour was our study hall.  After study hall came lunch that cost thirty-five cents.

After lunch I went to gym, art, and then ended the day in a math class that was just basic arithmetic.

How I managed to go from a one room, one teacher elementary school to a high school of close to 2000 kids without any feeling of trepidation or concern I am not real sure.  But as most things I have encountered, venturing into the unknown has always come easy.

I cannot remember any of my class mates that year but I do remember thinking that it was odd that none of my friends from Mt Washington were among them.

In the 8th grade there were no sport teams to join and to the best of my memory I attended no football, basketball, or any other athletic events that year.

I do remember there being a sport assembly right after football season where the coach introduced the team members and apologised to the student body that the team had not won a game that year.

There is not much point to this muse because the events of that year all seem vague.  For some reason I did not buy a year book so I have nothing to look at to help jog my memory.

The only real thing that sticks out is that towards the last of school they had a Senior Assembly where many of the older students showed off what talents they had.  I was much impressed.  I turned to the girl sitting next to me and told her "that will be us in five years."

Five years later I was sitting  by the same girl, Karen, and I remembered saying what I had said to her five years earlier.  I then wondered out loud  how had time gone by so quickly.

Wild Things

Wild Things

The greatest part of my childhood was spent living next to a four acre lake in an unincorporated area near Independence, Missouri. There I was first exposed to wild things that became just as natural to me as the other twenty or so kids that shared my idyllic up bringing. Nothing was unusual about how or where we lived according to us.

Even when I was much older and the army allowed me to go on camping trips to Germany, Italy, and Panama, living and communing with the great out doors, nothing seemed that special, I had done it all before.

When I moved to the Alaskan tundra and lived in Eskimo villages next to the Bering Sea, along the banks of the Yukon, and seventy mile north of the Arctic Circle, all seemed normal enough.

I have seen almost all the wild animals in their natural habitat Alaska has to offer, minus a Polar Bear, encountered enough wild things in the jungles of Panama to realize that is where they need to stay, and knew almost on a first name basis all the animals that called my four acre lake theirs.

The odd, some might say sad, thing is that I never really was impressed by any of it. Hiking and camping was just a hazarded of the military trade and uncaged animals were just things to be avoided.

However now on the front side of retirement I am beginning to develop an appreciation of our four legged and legless friends, albeit it some what grudgingly perhaps.

Part of the year now I live in a gated community that butts up to the desert. I am not sure if the fence and gate are to keep the wild things from wondering in or keep the old people from wondering out. I don’t know if I have just never noticed before or if there is something going on in the far horizon, but animals seem to be popping up all over the place and they don’t seem to want to leave me alone with my nightly Rey Del Mundo and Grand Marnier.

There is a rattle snake that insists on sharing my cactus garden, a desert frog that leaps across my patio each night followed by another sort of long black looking snake that I have yet been able to identify. Seldom seen, except by me it appears, is a desert lynx that sits very close to the fence with a frequency that makes me some what uneasy. He just sort of glares at me. When he isn’t around a road runner comes scampering down my side of the fence followed by a coyote on the other. Of course there is the extended family of creeping looking lizards that have taken up domicile under my shed and meander all over the place day or night. I have begun to find them all amusing, entertaining, and interesting.

As the early evening fades I know longer see my little wild things but I know they are there. The fence vibrates now and then, I hear the pounding paws along the trail on the desert side of the wash, something going through the brush, and all sorts of bumps in the night. I enjoy them immensely and it becomes a soothing event each night.

However every few nights I hear a faint rattle, a thump - like flesh hitting flesh, and a quickly muted squeal coming from the direction of my cactus garden. I then down my Grand Marnier extinguish my Rey Del Mundo and retreat to the inner sanctum of my permently attached mobile home. The wild things are lurking about.

Sedalia Spiels - Jim the Wonder Dog

In 1925 Louisiana a champion bird hunting Llewellyn English Setter had a litter of puppies.  One was reportedly so ugly that it had to be given away.  The recipient was Mr. Sam VanArsdale a hotel owner and operator in Marshal, Missouri a few miles north of Sedalia.  He named the puppy Jim.

Like many ugly ducklings, Jim grew into a fine looking animal but with two qualifiers.  One was that Jim's eyes were unusual for a dog.  Most who saw him said they looked almost human.  The second oddity was that Jim was psychic.

When Jim was old enough Sam enrolled him in a training school for bird dogs but Jim refused to cooperate and flunked out.  Sam, having already grown found of Jim would take him on walks in the near by woods.  Once Sam took his gun to hunt quail and took Jim along for company.  Jim realized what Sam was after and took him immediately to a bevy of quail, and then another, and another until Sam was worn out.  Sam thought Jim had a natural ability and was very proud of him.  He told Jim that they ought to go rest awhile under "that hickory tree yonder."  Jim lead the way.  Sam thought that was sort of amusing and no real feat to accidentally find a hickory tree in mid Missouri.  Just for fun Sam told Jim to find an elm tree, he did.  Then he suggested to Jim to go to an oak tree, he did, walnut tree, he did, an ash and so on and so on.  Jim never once made a mistake.




Sam rushed home and made his wife come out to the woods and had Jim repeat the performance.  Sam felt something was up.

Sam started asking Jim to do other things around the Ruff Hotel and Jim's legend grew and people would come from miles around just to watch Jim do things like locate cars in the parking lot by color, make, model and even license plate.  The "tricks" began to get more complicated and eventually a way was figured out how Jim could select the sex of unborn babies, identify certain people in a crowd, and pick horse race winners at the Stare Fair.

Ripley's Believe It Or Not picked up on Jim's unique ability which lead to the University of Missouri School of Veterinary Medicine to run tests on Jim.  They found nothing particularly physically different with Jim but did discover that Jim could follow detailed commands not only when spoken to but when put in writing.  Even instructions written in foreign languages. 

Jim was written about in various dog and hunting magazines.  He even appeared once on the cover of Life.

It wasn't very long until Sam was offered a contract of $100,000 from a Hollywood movie studio to feature Jim as a wonder dog as to compete with the studios turning out pictures about Lassie and Rin Tin Tin.  Sam turned down all offers of money that he felt would exploit Jim's abilities because he said he did not "think it right to financially benefit from Jim's God given talent." 

Jim died in 1937 and was buried at the corner of the Ridge Park Cemetery in Marshall.

My grandfather had lived in Sedalia as a young man and use to tell me stories about Jim.  I did not give the stories much credence because grandpa had been known to fabricate a little. However when I moved to Sedalia years later I was chatting with some of the older school teachers and the subject of Jim came up.  They immediately said that my grandpa's stories about Jim were true and they even added a few of their own.

I never really met anyone who actually saw Jim or witnessed any of his "tricks" but they all new someone who had.

In 1999 a memorial park was established for Jim the Wonder Dog at his grave in Marshall.  It is the most visited tourist site in all of town.           

Family Secrets - With a happy ending

Family Secrets – With a happy ending

One day while in Arizona I went to the mail box and found a letter addressed to me but with my mother’s address. I opened it and it was from this lady who said she was trying to solve a puzzle. She asked me several questions about events that had happened many years ago and if any of those events sounded familiar. At first I was not real certain what she was asking. She did say she was not a stalker or wanted a kidney, in fact the letter was quite entertaining and funny in most respects, but the tenor of the letter was serious. She asked if I would write or call her and help her figure out the answers to some questions she had.

I let my mother read the letter and she picked up on it right away. She said for me to throw the letter away. I said I needed to think about this for awhile. My mind ran the gambit of what the letter was really asking and if the person writing this letter was legitimately wanting to know a certain fact or two or trying to set me up for something far more sinister . I asked a close friend of mine to do some internet stalking to see what he could find. His results found that indeed she was a real person, lived where she said she lived, and her bio seemed to be non threatening. She had suggested that perhaps I was her biological father but without coming right out and saying it.

Some well meaning friends told me not to contact her and others said for me to contact a lawyer before I did anything. I ignored both sets of advice. I figured that if I was or was not her bio father she had a right to know, and so did I. I called her.

We chatted on the phone for awhile, really for more than a while and we both sort of figured out that I was probably who she thought I was. I will never forget what she said, “I have wondered what this day would be like for over 20 years” I asked her if it was what she thought it would be. She told me it exceeded her wildest expectations. I was elated for reasons that might seem odd.

However, there were still some mysteries remaining. I was not sure of the circumstance of her birth. I was not sure who her biological mother was or even could have been. I am ashamed to say that I could not remember anything happening or that I thought might have happened to cause this with anyone particular girl, but on contemplating the situation I narrowed in down to three possibilities.

She sent me a copy of some information that she had been able to collect over the years, with some pictures of her biological mother, half sister, and herself. After reading the contents I figured out who the bio mother was from my past and the interlude that ended up causing the recent enlightenment. Those circumstance are not really important. Let’s just say that it was 1968, One Block West was the place to go and meet girls, and one could go and have a great time for a week or two without regards to consequences, or so we thought back then.

I had no idea that the girl I met and hung around with for a week or two got pregnant. No one informed me, no one even suggested that such a thing had taken place. I even new her sisters in college, but they never uttered a word.

Her folks would have none of it. They sent her to a home that unwed mothers went to in those days and she was forced, so to speak, to give up the baby girl. It had to be heart wrenching for her. I have known several young ladies, some very close friends that had similar situations happen to them and some who took more drastic actions, and they all say you never quite get over it and never forget it and wonder how the child’s life turned out or might have.

Well in my bio daughters case it turned out well. She was raised by a mother and father who loved her and she loved them, was a cheer leader in high school in a small town, she went to college on a scholarship, and now has a successful career helping others. She has three children of her own, a nice husband and 4 step children and a recent grand baby.  Believe me if I had been involved in her early life when I was young and more stupid then I am now, her life would not have turned out so well.

She has met my other children and we even took a “family” type of picture. When I am asked how many children I have I always say 5 and seldom have to go into the entire story of where the 5^th one is. In fact I am just as proud of her as my other children and sort of relish relating the story about her doggedness of searching for me for over 20 years.

I realize that I am not her father, he is the one who set up with her and nights and guided her into adulthood. She calls me Conley and that is how it should be. She met my mother, who seemed just as thrilled as me to have her presence known and mom gave her a family heirloom. I have informed her of what her McAnally roots were and I told her I would be as little or as much a part of her life as she wished me to be. I told her I had no right to expect anything from her. We keep in contact via  phone, facebook, and email.  She lives in western Kansas but I manage to go by and see her a couple of times a year.  
 

Family Secrets - The Wreck

Family Secrets - The Wreck

Mom and Dad had been dating for less than a year. It was drizzling rain when he picked her up from her home in Kansas City, Kansas and they went to a dance at William Chrisman High School. After the dance they decided to stop by a local drive-in and take the long way back to her house. While at the drive-in Dad and another guy got into an argument as to who had the fastest car. There was no drag strip in those days for the argument to be settled but there was always Kentucky Road just outside of Sugar Creek where such matters were easily delt with.

The two cars met at the appropriate place. A crowd had gathered and one of the two antagonist’s mutual friends gave the signal for the race to begin.

Dad did not win the race due to the fact that he hit a slick spot on the road, turned the car in a one eighty and went over an embankment. He was thrown against the steering wheel, bruised his chest and suffered some minor lacerations. Mom’s head went through the windshield.

By the time the on lookers got to the site, blood was every where, mostly Mom’s. One of the guys said they needed to take mom to the hospital immediately and there was a momentary hesitation as to whose car she should go in. “She’ll get blood all over my car,” one guy reportedly said. One of the larger of the group took charge and put mom in the closest car and sort of dared anyone to complain.

They arrived at the hospital where dad’s parents were called and he was immediately treated for his injuries. Mom’s mother was called but mom’s stepfather was hard of hearing and did not understand that they were supposed to come to the hospital and give permission for the doctors to treat mom since she was under age.

Dad’s mom and dad waited and waited, mom was kept from bleeding to death by basic first aid but no procedures were given to help her further. My grandmother decided she would sign the papers to commence doing whatever was needed to be done when finally Mom’s mom showed up, having realized what had happened via a second phone call that she answered.

Mom had a minor concussion and a slashed cheek. It took several hours to sew her up. She asked the doctor later how many stitches she received and the doctor told her, “Honey I stopped counting at 350.”

Mom had a terrible scar for the rest of her life. I never noticed anything out of the ordinary though because it was just part of the only her I had ever known. The scar is still visible if you know where to look, but wrinkles and sagging facial muscles has made it all but disappear.