Moving to the Country

We moved to Worthington, Kentucky, a few days before I started the third grade. We moved from St. Matthews, Kentucky, which is a suburb of Louisville. We only moved about ten miles, but the move brought major culture shock for a young boy. Basically, we moved from the city to the country.

I knew about living in the city. We neighborhood boys rode our bikes up and down alleys; dropped into the local stores regularly; knew which parents would let us dig holes in their backyards for fox holes; made flags and stick guns and played war or cowboys and Indians; rode our bikes to school and on Saturdays went to the movies at the Vogue Theater. Lots of kids lived close, so there was always somebody to hang out with and something to get into. Life was good.

I had been attending Greathouse school with several hundred other children. Worthington school was a three-room school (two grades per room) with around 75 students. The three classrooms were on the main floor, there was an auditorium upstairs and the restrooms and cafeteria were on the lower level. The first change I had to deal with was that introverted me could no longer hide in the crowd. As the new kid, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was obvious and I dressed funny. I was anonymous no more. After a week of being my introverted self and not speaking to anyone, I was confronted on the playground by the class leader, Barry Roderer. It came down to this: I would start talking to the other kids or there was going to be a daily playground ass whipping until I did. The decision was easy: I suddenly became a regular Chatty Cathy.

That conversation reminds me of the story of a company changing health insurance carriers because the company and the employees got such a better deal. The only caveat was that everyone had to sign up for the insurance. On old guy near retirement refused. First his manager talked to him – nope. Next the plant manager tried to talk him into it – still no go. Next the HR Director took a shot at it – no dice. Finally, the company President called him into his office. He invited the reluctant employee to have a seat and said, “You have been a long and faithful employee and I appreciate your loyalty. But if you don’t sign up for this insurance I will fire you.” The old guy immediately left the President’s office, walked directly to HR and signed up. The HR director just had to ask, “Why are signing up now?” The fella said, “You know, nobody explained it that clearly before.” Same with Barry. Nobody ever explained it so clearly before. Welcome to Worthington.

In the country, our closest neighbor lived more than a mile away and my nearest playmate lived almost two miles away. Since nobody lived close and there were lots of hills, none of the kids rode bicycles. It was a huge effort to find someone to play with. And those country kids did different things than what I was used to. They went camping and fishing and hunting and hiking. I was in another world and ill-equipped to be there. I had much to learn.

The gang at school introduced me to electric fences. Had never seen one -  never heard of one. There was one dividing the school yard from the farm behind it. A group gathered around as Barry talked me into grabbing the wire. It seemed safe enough to me… there weren’t any barbs on it. I was wrong. I grabbed the wire and it was like it grabbed me. I immediately went to my knees. It took me what seemed like forever to get free from the fence. The gathered group thought it was hilarious. I was not amused.

Since the classes at my new school were less than half the size as the one’s at my former school, I got called on regularly. I was not a happy camper. I was a good student, but froze up when called on to speak in front of the class. I regularly looked like an idiot. My soul desire was to fade into the background. Soon enough my teacher figured that out and left me alone. Every student was required to participate in the annual school play. Wisely, she cast me as Professor Shampoof, a non- speaking roll. Perfect.

My favorite teacher was Miss Harrell. She taught the fifth and sixth grades. She was an amazing teacher. One of my favorite memories was the day Estill Murphy, serious as a heart attack, asked her what it was like coming to America on the Mayflower. Even as a young, dumb kid, I knew Estill had made a serious mistake. Miss Harrell was very gracious. I don’t remember her answer but I was amazed she didn’t rip his head off.

There was the day she sent the girls out to the playground and kept the boys in the room for “a little chat.” She then addressed a “cleanliness issue.” It seems we boys had contests to see how far away from the urinal we could stand and still arch it in. Unfortunately, many of us over estimated our abilities and made a mess on the floor. Miss Harrell told us that there was an issue with us urinating on the bathroom floor and we needed to stop. At the end of the “chat” she had us all stand and repeat, “I will not urinate on the bathroom floor”, which we all obediently did. I have a feeling her attempt at solving the problem was ineffective since the first question asked when we arrived on the playground was, “What’s urinate?” Nobody knew.

As a grade-schooler, my two favorite times of the school day were recess and lunch. We had some intense games of kickball in the school’s back yard. Lunch was amazing. Ladies from the community fixed our lunches; they were homemade and delicious. Even the stewed tomatoes, way down on my list of favorites, were tolerable. As I recall, lunch cost 25¢ and it was all you could eat. And we grade school boys could do some eating. The challenge became staying awake in the afternoon class.

Miss Harrell was my fifth grade teach. She could work magic in the classroom. Through her teaching, the unknowable became simple and clear. When we returned to school the following fall our sixth-grade teacher was Mrs. Brenner. That threw us for loop since it was the same woman. We just couldn’t grasp the fact that Miss Harrell had gotten married over the summer. In fact, Estill (At least he is consistent.) Murphy asked if she wasn’t too old to get married. That one sounded like a good question to me. I pretty much thought she was as old as dirt… probably over 40.

Barry Roderer, after offering to whip my butt, of course, became my best friend – that’s what boys do – fight first and friends later. On one of our numerous camping trips we became blood brothers. He was sure a cool guy. His family owned a truck farm and raised vegetables for the Kroger, Co. In the spring, after the fields were plowed, we would walk the fields in search of arrow heads. Some days we would return home with our jean pockets full. Those arrow heads are another thing from my childhood I wish I had kept. We spent long summer days catching crawdads in Goose Creek; trapping whatever furry beasts we could coax into our traps; hunting for rabbits and squirrels; (I had a 22 rifle and he had a 4/10 shotgun that I openly coveted.) blew up stuff with the fireworks his uncle had brought back from Tennessee for us; sat around campfires and scared each other to death telling ghost stories; had huge rotten tomato fights once the harvesting was done, were always opposing captains of the school kickball teams; filled our canteens straight out of the creek with no fear of sickness; shot mistletoe out of the trees to sell around Christmas for spending money so we could by cigarettes at the local grocery.

Moving to the country was a learning experience for this city boy. I learned how to hunt and fish and build a campfire and be comfortable at night in the out of doors. I acquired a sense of direction, a sense of humor, a sense of community and a sense of belonging. Just living in the country gave me a love of nature, a love of good friends, the love of a good dog, a love of adventure and learning how to do new things. And at that little old three room schoolhouse I received an amazing education… both in and out of the classroom.

Copyright © 2017, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved

Bill McConnell is the Interim Minister at Norwood Christian Church in Cincinnati, Ohio, and is a Church Transformation consultant and a Christian Leadership Coach. He is a frequent speaker at Church Transformation events. His latest book on church transformation is DEVELOPING A SIGNIFICANT CHURCH and is available at Westbow Press.

He can be contacted @ bill45053@gmail.com. Connect with him on Facebook @ William T. McConnell or on Twitter @billmc45053 or visit his Amazon Author Page @ Amazon