Living at the Kellond teacherage had many perks for a kid growing up.
There was the playground with a thirty foot slide (okay, maybe not thirty, but to a five-year old it might as well have been a ninety foot slide), a set of SIX swings, monkey bars, and a merry-go-round.
There was, of course, the well house that was used to play Annie-Over.
There was ample room for games like Drop-the-Handkerchief, Kick-the-Can, Hopscotch, Four Square, Red Light-Green Light, Tag-You're-It, and on and on.
The creek that ran the entire length along the south side of the playground afforded so many opportunities for fun and mischief before and after school and at recess. The main activity at the creek was catching crawdads. The only way I can describe it is to imagine an episode of Okie Noodlin'. For those of you who aren't familiar with this sport, it's basically where a person walks chest-deep in water along the banks of a river and reaches into depths unknown, an underwater cave, and pulls out either a ginormous catfish or part of what's left of their arm. Little did we know as kids that's exactly what we were doing, except instead of noodlin' for catfish, we were noodlin' for crawdads. I kid you not. When the creek was running high, we would get in it, reach into the holes along the side that had been 'warshed' out, and grab those critters. Or maybe I should say, they grabbed us.
Yes. There were contests to see who could drag out the biggest one. Some of the crawdads ended up in Mason jars half-full of muddy water and kept for awhile but always let go, back into the creek to be captured another day.
Yes. Sometimes we tied strings to them and kept them as pets until the end of the day when Miss Bertha insisted they go back into the creek.
But the game that came to a screeching halt one morning was called Chicken. This playground game involved pocket knives. You heard me. Pocket knives. We were allowed to have them at school until the morning Tobe got one stuck in the top of his barefoot. To this day, I can still see it sticking out of his foot and the blood trickling down both sides. Just in case you're interested in playing a game with one of your friends, or perhaps want a couple of your kids to play it, I'll explain the rules:
Two children stand facing each other, barefooted, about five feet apart with their legs spread as far as they can without falling over. Each child has a pocket knife !!! The first player throws the opened (blade out) knife between the feet of his/her opponent. Once the knife sticks into the ground, that player has to shorten the width of the stance, bringing the feet a little closer together. The 'helpers' retrieve the knife and hands it back to the player. The second player then throws his/her knife, and the opponent has to step in once the knife is thrown. This process continues with the knife throwing and the bare feet coming closer and closer to each other until one of the players 'chickens-out' and doesn't want the knife thrown as his/her feet as the area continues to shrink with each throw. Thus, the name of the game: CHICKEN.
Well, this particular morning before school started, we were all out on the playground. If you've watched the video, it's the area where the gravel is in front of the building. Right about there.
We were in a circle surrounding Tobe and his opponent, whose name I don't remember, watching this game of Chicken. Unfortunately, 'whose name I don't remember,' took aim and landed his pocket knife right in the top of Tobe's barefoot.
Enter, stage left: Miss Bertha
I don't remember who pulled the knife out of Tobe's foot, probably my mom.
I don't remember much else after that.
But, I do remember that was the last day pocket knives were allowed at school.
