Reminiscing about Trinity Lutheran School, Part Two

One thing I learned at Trinity Lutheran School: our teachers cared about us and were inspired by their Christian faith to set a good example. My TLS experience began with kindergarten in 1958, with two nurturing young women who taught us the solid foundations of education.

Let’s start with the lesson that good things come to those who wait. Mrs. Tickel and Mrs. Bender set us on a class project — boys and girls together — to take our turns at the old-fashioned butter churn until we made butter. Which we started to think would never turn.

By the time the sweet, delicious butter emerged, we felt like a little regiment of mini-Charles Atlases, sore but happy. We sat around enjoying our hard-earned, fresh-churned butter with saltines. That afternoon we heard about the children of Israel, but we all agreed that not even manna from Heaven could taste better than our homemade butter.

First grade was where we learned to read. Mrs. Kelpe was kind yet assertive, a more directive Aunt Bee. She had taught for so long that my mother’s oldest cousin had once been her student. Despite her advancing years, she still played kickball with her young charges, rolling her pitches like under-handed free throws in basketball. Granny style, as they say.

One day, we had a fire drill. Each child was accounted for except one. When we returned to the classroom, he was still at his desk, painstakingly arranging his rounded scissors, jar of paste, box of #2 pencils and Big Chief tablet. If we ever had a real fire, I guess it would be a neat, orderly and well-organized one. Mrs. Kelpe patiently but firmly explained that our lives were more important than school things.

Second grade was Mrs. Wyckoff and Mrs. Polack. Mrs. Wyckoff was kind of strict and no-nonsense. Some kids didn’t like her very much, but she was one of my favorite teachers ever. She reminded me of Jane Hathaway on “The Beverly Hillbillies.” Since I didn’t get a ride home until an hour after school, I often stayed in her room and talked with her. We all liked when she read Hardy Boys adventures to us, though. She really brought them to life. My family called me The Absent-Minded Professor because I left all three of my jackets in her cloakroom. (Why were they still called cloakrooms, anyway? We didn’t wear cloaks, like little Draculas. Did kids still wear them somewhere? Like maybe Transylvanian Lutheran School?)

Mrs. Polack was very smart with a good sense of humor, and she had a pleasant voice. She was also a little bit strict, but her personality made her popular with her students.

Miss Froemsdorf taught third grade. An imposing figure, she was respected and admired for her talents in art and music, and she was good-hearted. But she had a disciplinary method that wouldn’t fly today: The Ear Twist. Now, she rarely used it, and only on bullies who terrorized others. But it couldn’t be denied that, as she frog-marched some miscreant down the hall, a firmly applied Ear Twist did wonders for his outlook. It allowed him to experience startling clarity and sudden ability to re-examine and eschew the wisdom of his previous negative behavior. It allowed him sharp focus and full concentration of the mind on achieving positive behavior and … well, whatever she wanted him to do, really.

But now, dear reader, as my subject matter runs longer than anticipated, I must continue (and complete) this TLS reminiscence as a part three. Next time will be the final chapter.