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MR. BYERS he would walk the two-plus miles to our mother would make him some nice warm
BY MIKE LAVKA (N40) neighborhood to be the crossing guard hot chocolate. I guess that kind of made
because we had to cross a highway a couple us best buddies.
My most vivid memory of the school is of hundred yards from our house. Then he
Mr. Byers. He was the custodian/janitor/ would walk back to the school to perform After trekking through the deep snow to
caretaker/crossing guard/ and good his duties there during the day and again get to school, our boots would be full of
friend and grandfatherly figure to all of walk to the highway to help us cross after snow and our feet and socks wet, so Mr.
the kids. He was a Navy veteran of World school and again back to the school to close Byers made us dump the snow out and
War I during which he was a stoker on a up and then walk home. wring out the wet socks. We then placed
destroyer that was struck by a torpedo. our boots in a circle around the big warm
He was badly wounded with severe burns During the winters, we usually had more furnace and hung our wet socks over them
over a large part of his body and one side than a foot of snow on the ground but to dry. Everyone had extra warm wool
of his head and face, plus he lost an arm. that didn’t hinder any activities in that socks that we kept at school to keep our
Ten minutes after meeting him, you never part of the country. We still had school as feet warm and some of the well-off kids
noticed those disfigurements any more. scheduled, and we could always count on even had slippers to wear during the day.
He was just Mr. Byers, always pleasant Mr. Byers being there. He would arrive
and smiling and giving encouragement at the school early to stoke the fires Years later when I was in the Army, my
to the kids. in the furnaces to ensure that we had mother sent me a newspaper article stating
warm classrooms when we arrived. He that Mr. Byers had passed away and I truly
Mr. Byers lived a few miles from the school also arrived early for his crossing guard felt sorry about that. One of America’s real
in the opposite direction from where we duties and would come to our house and my heroes was gone but not forgotten.
lived, and he didn’t have a car so he
walked to school every day to open it up
and get things ready for the day. Then
A WINTER’S TREAT to boil shiny, iridescent bubbles. Each PICTURE DAY
BY SHERRY MOCK (N17) of us took turns stirring, even the first BY DARLENE MOSELEY
graders. Butter was added to the mix and (N40)
I kicked little it roiled with new energy. After a while,
puffs of dirt with our teacher tipped a drop of that hot syrup Darlene Moseley remembers the
the toe of my from a spoon into a glass of cold water. exciting time a photographer came
black galoshes We watched eagerly as she repeated this to her school to take pictures of
and watched several times. With each test, we hoped students. She wanted to wear some
the dust swirl the syrup would form a small hard ball jewelry for the photo, but did not have
upward with the in the water. If it did, the hot taffy would money to buy something. She decided
wind. Walking be ready! Finally, slowly, carefully Miss to make something! Taking a shirt
to school across Weems poured the steamy thick syrup button and some string, she made the
town had been onto the buttered platter. I could hardly necklace that she is wearing in the
something I had always done in Missouri, wait for it to cool enough to “work” with photo. She wore bangs at the time,
but this northeast Kansas country road my own greased fingers. “Stretch from the and she thought she would look more
seemed more open and a little colder. edges and push back into the middle,” she grown up, or prettier if she got them
I tightened my hood around my neck, said over and over to us as the lump of wet and rearranged them.
but I wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact. I stiffening candy on the plate cooled. And
was excited. I was bringing one of the then, into our outstretched fingers, she SEPTEMBER 2017 SSUNRAYS | 51
ingredients for this afternoon’s special placed a bit of the sticky candy. We began
treat. Cooking at school?! This was new to pull it out and fold it over, repeating
to me. Our lessons were recited or written again and again and again, until our arms
with an extra urgency that long day. At ached. Eight children of different ages
last, Miss Weems called us into the small worked in pairs, pulling and folding. At
outer annex beyond our only classroom, last, our teacher took the taffy from us and
where onto a small table, she had put a big folded our pieces altogether. She twisted
pan on an electric burner. From our lunch them into a rope of light brown candy.
sacks we retrieved butter and brown sugar, When she finished, she handed twists all
two jars of molasses and some vinegar. The around. Mmmmmm. “The hardest toil
only boy in my sixth grade group poured always yields the sweetest reward.” And
water he had pumped into the kettle. this afternoon’s work was, indeed, a living
Those of us who brought something to add, experience of that old Proverb!
dropped in our offerings. The teenaged
girl rubbed butter on a platter, while
the sugar, molasses, and vinegar began
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