Them Johnson kids.
Anyone who has read this blog knows it is about my childhood. My childhood memories are vivid back to 1945.
Well, any how, my first school was the Prospect School in Prospect Alabama. The school taught grades 1 to 9. There was no plumbing or central heat and cooling. Hot summer days were handled by opening all the windows. A practice which actually seemed to work. Cold weather was handled in each room by a coal fired "Pot Bellied" stove. It would run you out when it got stoked up. It would glow red even on a bright sunny winter day. What usually happened was that someone would open a window or two. The result of that form of climate control was some being toasty warm while the rest froze their butt's off.
I first came to know ML Johnson while in Mrs. Smith's second grade class. ML was doing his third tour as one of Mrs. Smith's pupils. I guess it could be said that old ML knew his way around the second grade better than most anyone else.. He was a good old boy, just couldn't seem to learn to read. Instead of being a scholar, he was a "Jim Dandy" room custodian. He claimed that he was just marking time. Was gonna quit when he turned 16. I thought to my self, damn ML, you gonna be the oldest second grader in all of Alabama.
ML, in addition to being in my class, also rode the same school bus that I did. ML kind of picked me out to be his buddy. That innocent situation came with more than a little baggage. His mom and dad weren't real big on personal hygiene. ML and his sibling's tended to reflect conditions at home in their own personal appearance not to mention the ever present odor of urine. Never once during the school year did I see any washed clothes hanging on their clothes line. Wasn't at all unusual see the smaller Johnson kids squatting in the front yard to relieve themselves. Another "Oh my gosh" Johnson antic was for Mrs. Johnson, on warm days, to set on the front porch all leaned back so you could see up her homemade dress. More than likely she wouldn't have no drawers on. Memorable times to say the least.
So there I was. Friends with a kid that had never had a friend, at least not a school friend. ML turned out to be not so dumb as he led folks to believe. Like I said old ML was just marking time. He said his grandpa was a rich peanut farmer in south Alabama. ML figured to go down there and work on that farm for his grandpa.
Earlier I mentioned that ML brought a lot of baggage into our friendship. He had a brother and a sister in our class. The two were twins. Both were named Bobby Gene. Believe me when I say it was a little confusing. These two Johnson kids had done two years in old lady Mildred Ivy's first grade class before she promoted them. Some people claimed she did it to get even with Mrs. Smith.
The girl twin was real quite. Never speaking unless spoken to. Her hair was cut like her two brothers, no decent clean clothing. It was pretty plain to see that her cloths were hand me downs. Old wore out oxford shoes with no laces and no socks. Her eyes cast down and her body slightly bent so as to not attract attention. She was pitiful as any person I have ever known.
The other twin was a boy. He was as mean as his sister was pitiful. I don't doubt that the boy was crazy and a bully to boot.
Our bus driver, Cecil Nix, had to set up his route so that he dropped off the Prospect kids and then got to the high school in time to let those students get to class. What few high school students we had in our area went to the Carbon Hill high school.
Because of our early arrival, some Prospect male students were assigned certain tasks to be done before the first bell rang. Myself and the Johnson brothers got the job of sweeping out both the first and second grade rooms. When cold weather arrived our job duties were expanded to include building a fire every morning in the pot bellied stoves in the two rooms. It turned out to be way too much work for the time allotted. The principle was unhappy with us and verbally expressed it in vivid detail.
ML was a good worker and gave the sweeping and fire building his best effort. His brother on the other hand was a slacker. One morning while me and ML was busting our butts trying to get the two heaters going, his brother slipped away and hid. Our principle Mr. Blake, caught him and yanked him by his ear and brought him back to where we were working. That old man damn near pulled off Bobby Gene's ear. The ear lobe was torn and bleeding. The principle asked if we had them heaters going. We told him we only needed to get the water cans filled to be done. The water can's were set on top of the heaters and kept the air from being too dry. Each can would hold about a gallon of water. Mr. Blake told Bobby Gene to go outside and fill the two cans. Wasn't too long before Bobby and another slightly nuts character name Charles Cheatwood showed up. Each of them were carrying a can, one for each heater.
The first bell rang at 8am. It was a signal for kids in grades five though nine to start their classes. The bell also was to tell the rest of us to line up and wait for the next bell. Years later I'd reminisce and think of how we'd became conditioned to obey something simple as a bell with out question. Brain washed? Maybe yes , may no.
Our bell rang and we started filing into the building. We were greeted by a terrible stench. The smell of boiling urine. It seemed to just cling to us. Mrs. Ivy was bent over being sick. Mrs. Smith was opening windows in both room in an attempt to either let the smell out or the fresh air in. Both stoves were red hot. Nobody was about to even try and get to the hot cans. The principle came to see what the fuss was all about but didn't say too much. He knew without even asking.
Funny how well I remember even after sixty five years. Something will trigger these memories and they will just gush out of my subconscious. Where are the Johnson kids today? I hope they're doing okay.
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