A few years after I started attending Wilson, probably in 1935
or 1936, the School board decided to move grades seven to
nine, to White School. White was twice the size; it had two
classrooms, one for grades one to six, and the other for grades
seven to eleven, plus a playroom under the elementary room.
This seemed like quite a luxury, especially when the weather
made it impossible to play or take physical education classes
outdoors. To solve the transportation problems involved in this
transfer, arrangements were made for Lewellyn Bishop to build a
cab for his pick-up truck. This became our first 'school bus",
which was to transport ten to twelve students from the Wilson
district to White School. Initially, Lew, along with Irene and
Herb, would pick up Ray Lanier, Doreen and Les Robinson,
Virginia and Layne Harvey, Evelyn Poole, and Ester and Charlie
Chow. For some reason it was decided that I would travel the
3 1/2 miles by horse. The first two and a half miles were a
little boring, but at the railroad crossing a number of families
would join the trek to school for the last mile, some on horseback
and some on foot: Allan Petrie, the Snopeks, the Webbs, Thelma
Salmon and farther down the road, the Mercers. Somewhere on
this stretch we would be passed by Lew's van from Wilson. On
arriving at the barn there would be riders coming from other
directions, such as; the Andrews, Berrys, Handsaemes, and
Parrys. In the winter time, when the weather was very stormy,
I remember a few times when I stopped at Shrimp Salmon's,
at the crossing, to get warmed up and to enjoy hearing Shrimp
tell funny stories about helping Dad at harvest. Years later
(about fourteen years later) when I started farming, both
Harold and Melvin Salmon worked for me over a couple of years.

When I was at White School, Ray and I spent more time visiting
each other. I was then big enough to wrestle with him. Sometimes
we would talk Ike into letting us play "rodeo pick-up cowboys"
with him. We would get on two horses with Ike on the back
of one and go galloping across the pasture while we transferred
Ike back and forth from the back of one horse to the other
all the way across the pasture. Our mothers would have had
a fit if they had seen us.

In April on my thirteenth birthday, Dad casually mentioned that
there was something in the corral that I might be interested
in seeing. I rushed down to the corral to find a beautiful little
sorrel horse - what a surprise! Dad came strolling down the
hill with a big grin on his face, and said that she was my
birthday present. I was a little stunned as it was such a
surprise. He helped me catch and bridle her. Then as I
rode her around the corral she pranced first to the left,
then to the right, hinting she was ready to race at the drop
of a hat. He told me she had been "winded" by misuse on
the race track and should be treated gently for a few
months, then maybe she would be settled down enough to
ride to school in the Fall. By September, we felt she was
ready for the test. So it was great thrill for me, on the first
day of school, to set off on Tip, named after one of Dad's
favorite horses. Art Webb had a horse, Tony, about the
same size and color, so it was even more fun to ride along
with him on that last mile. The following spring we yielded to
the temptation to occasionally race our horses for part of that
last mile.

One time on my way home I was riding in the borrow pit (as
there was a lot of fresh gravel on the road). All of a sudden
Tip jumped sideways; she was caught on some barbed wire but
I couldn't see just where she was caught. I jumped off to
disentangle her. As she pranced around me the wire became
wrapped around my legs until it tightened up and then pulled
freefrom her tail. I was relieved that she was alright, then I
became aware the wire had cut two deep gashes in my thigh.
I was just glad she wasn't injured. As she was only fifteen and
a half hands tall and I was now over six feet, I could easily
swing on to an upright sitting position. She loved for me to let
her have a loose rein, then grab her mane and swing on, by
which time she would be at a full gallop. I'm not sure whether
I felt like an Indian or a cowboy, but I felt great. I had a lot
of fun riding Tip for the next couple of years, until that
fateful night when horses got out of the pasture, onto the
highway. She was struck by a car which broke her leg and she
had to be put down - that was a very sad day for me.

Now that I was at White School, softball became more
important. By the time I was in grade nine, I'm sure we played
some form of ball every day, weather permitting, except for
the two to three weeks in the spring when track and field took
over the spotlight. Wilson McKenzie, our high school teacher,
was our coach and worked with us to organize an practice
for games against schools, such as; Crystal Lake, Hardieville,
McLean, and Readymade. Since we only had about sixteen
boys in all of grades seven to eleven, we probably ended up
with an age spread of three to four years on the team. We
relied on parent's cars or pick-up trucks (it was permissible
in those days for people to ride in the back) to travel the
five to ten miles to these games, and of course Bishop's
van did it's share. Unfortunately, some of the older boys
often had to do farm work at home, and were unable to play.

In the spring, Sports Day was a big event. Preparations took
several weeks, some of the older ones started to practice
much earlier. We had to dig the pits during physical education
classes; arrange for a father to dump some fresh sand in the
pits; practice the various events; calculate each students
classification and finally select those to compete in each event.
Instead of only using age as the means of classification we used
a more scientific system based on age, weight and height. This
had quite a significant impact On me- As I was over six feet tall
when I was thirteen, I found myself competing against boys like
Johnny Zinc from McLean, who was two years older, but much
shorter and stronger. So the number and color of my ribbons
really changed from the days at Wilson School.

District calf clubs, for both dairy and beef calves, started up
in Alberta when I was young. The District Agriculturist (D.A.)
along with a few enthusiastic farmers seemed to be the
energizing force that started each district club. I was about
eleven years old when I first became involved, with the
encouragement of John Davidson, a family friend and farmer
from Coaldale. In the early fall, club members would select
their calves, which had recently weaned. They were usually
an Angus, Hereford or Shorthorn. On getting them home it
took a week or two to gentle them and get them used to
being in a small pen. It helped to put one of Dads calves in
with mine for company. There were several Club meetings
during the fall and winter at which the D.A. and other experts
would talk to us about developing a feeding program, how
to keep a record of his feed intake for each day, and about
general care and preparation of a beef show animal. Each
morning and evening I would have to carry water (about a
100 yards) to them, feed them, clean out their stall and spend
a little time handling them. Later on there would be the task
of halter breaking to lead and to stay tied up. Sometimes it
was a battle to see who was going to lead whom. As show time
approached more attention had to be paid to increasing his food
intake to an optimal level, and working on techniques for
showing him to the best advantage, at a walk and standing
squarely on his feet. There were times when the calf and I
would argue about exactly how he should stand. I didn't
always win and got kicked instead. Grooming him would now
include shampooing his coat and trimming his feet. The
arrival of show time meant moving the calf and all his feed,
grooming and showing equipment as well as all the personal
things I would need for the next three days at the Lethbridge
and District Exhibition and Fair. It was an exciting time,
being away from home, being with all those other boys and
girls, even as shy as I still was. That first year my calf did very
well, winning second place and on the next day selling for
the big price of $0.21 per pound. I continued to be involved
in the Club for another two years but my calves never did as
well as that first one.

Dances at White School were big events in the community.
It was a family affair, with babies, small children, teens,
young adults, often from other districts and even from town,
and older people. I'm sure Mother and Dad were there at
least once. I remember watching Dad dance with Kate
Andrews and being amazed at how light Kate was on her feet.
I was surprised to find out, years later, that they had dated
in their single days. These were dances where one could
learn how to dance, as older teens and adults would teach
us younger ones. Some of my early dance teachers, who
were three or four years older, were Evelyn Poole, Joan
Webb, and Elaine Hamilton. I must have been only
fourteen or fifteen when I had a crush on Elaine, and
was dejected and depressed when she and Matt Handsaeme
got married. Unlike school dances in Lethbridge which
stopped at midnight, these dances went until at least 1:00
a.m. and if we still had a lot of energy the band would take
up a collection and continue until 2:00 a.m. When I was
fifteen, Mother didn't seem to mind if I stayed out until
2:00 a.m., but when I was eighteen and went to a dance
at White School, she made a big thing out of being home
by 1:00 a.m. Parents were just as difficult in those days!

In 1940 I moved to Lethbridge to start grade ten at the
LCI, boarding with Mrs. Frey, Kay Frey's mother. Ray also
went to the LCI to complete his grade twelve, before joining
the U.S. navy. Even when I was going to the LCI, I would
quite often go to the dances at White. They were a time to
visit old friends, to be surprised at how quickly some of the
girls had grown up in a year or two, and to have fun
dancing with them. We did have some good times in those
early days.

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