In September, 1956, I entered John R. Rogers High School as a freshman. In home room, I sat next to the late Richard Mather. Dick was to become the Class of 1960 Valedictorian. On to my first two days at Rogers ...
I had English as my first class that semester. Mrs. Schofield taught that class. She called her class a "course." I thought I'd landed in the big show.
The second class was Mr. Poffenroth's Geography. His classroom was the third portable in the row of four to the east of the shops. The first day I made it to his class OK.
The third class was gym. The teacher was Mr. Ellsenson, who threw out the balls. I don't recall being taught anything, but then again, I'm an athletic disaster. I made it to that class the first day OK too.
The rest of the schedule included General Science rounded out by Metal Shop.
Now all of this schedule stuff and running from room-to-room was a new thing to me. I came from an elementary school where I stayed put unless somebody told me to go to the gym, lunch, or over to Bemis Elementary for shop. I moved from subject-to-subject whenever somebody told me to take out my social studies book or such. So my first week at Rogers was a kind of hands-on for keeping a schedule every time a bell rang. And I messed it up.
Thus I walked into my first study hall period on my second day of class. Trouble is, I did it when I should have been in Mr. Poffenroth's second period Geography class. Worse, that study hall was terrifying. A strident-voiced lady was banging a gavel while she ordered boys larger than her to sit down and behave. During small intervals, they actually did settle down. Periodically the gavel banged and the lady's voice rang as the big boys tried to try her patience. Did she sound like a prison guard? No, it was more like a drill sergeant. She was Mrs. Lena Schmidt. She could handle herself. She could deal with troublemakers. It was still often bedlam in that study hall.
The next day, Mr. Poffenroth pardoned me for missing his class, telling me not to let it happen again. I finished the semester doing two or three days a week in Mrs. Schmidt's study hall, but third period, not second period. Later, I learned I could arrange to go to Mrs. Olivia Harris' library instead of study hall. There, I actually could study.
I seem to recall that Mrs. Schmidt went on to teach English during my junior and senior years. I had no further experiences with her except to see her in the halls from time-to-time.
A month ago, her recent obituary came my way in an email. She'd had a long, remarkable history. I was not surprised to see that she had been a W.A.C. officer in the U.S. Army! Her Army picture showed a handsome woman. The biography described a talented, accomplished woman. She retired from Rogers in 1982. I read that she volunteered as a Pink Lady at the Valley General Hospital. She was in a United Methodist Church choir ( I'm in a couple of those too). I'm impressed by her life of service. I was there for a tiny piece of it. I see similarities to my current 30-year-old choir director, whose apptitude, attitude, and abilities I respect a great deal.