Dale Pogue's First Fight at School

I only had one fight during all of elementary school. Rooster fights don't count! I have no idea what it was about but it was a dramatic production befitting Ali. The two fighters paraded across the school yard to the gravel road at the side of the school. We then marched on to OUR property! A safe haven. No one could touch us there! A circle was made by all the boys and the two contestants moved to the center of the ring. . We sparred a bit, never really getting in a good punch, when someone said, "Here comes Miss Lovett!". Smugly I said, "We're safe here. This is my property!". Apparently Miss Lovett did not understand private property rights for she marched across the gravel road and as the onlookers scattered, she came up and took us both by our ears.(We had perfectly good hands) Holding firmly to our ears she led us into our empty classroom.(It was recess). She bent us over the front desk and with her wooden paddle she gave us three solid licks. They hurt, but not nearly so bad as the thought that this woman beating me was the love of my life! I loved Miss Lovett. The entire legal scheme collapsed later that day when Miss Lovett informed my parents of her action. Instead of hiring a lawyer like any good parent would, my dad found a rather heavy belt and applied some more impressions to my wounded ego. Not a good day, but a memorable one.

For more wit and wisdom of Dale Pogue, go to Dale's website: http://dalepogue.com/

Nifty Fifties Article in Fort Smith Times Record

Classmates Kivel L. Weaver, from left, Dixie E. Weaver and Doris Neihouse enjoy chatting before lunch. They are members of the Nifty Fifties group, which includes dozens of 1950 graduates from Fort Smith High School, family members and friends from other graduating classes. The group meets monthly for lunch and hosts an annual reunion in Fort Smith. [Carrol Copeland - Times Record]

Monday, October 15, 2007
Fort Smith High School Classmates Stay in Touch After All These Years ... By Scott Smith

A broken leg, a concussion and initial confusion failed to slow down these football helmet-wearing females.They proudly participated in the only girls football game ever to be played at Fort Smith High School, keeping their sense of humor and knack for pranks intact, even though injuries and inexperience waved a wicked finger.Many of those who played in that match now are members of the Nifty Fifties group, which includes high school graduates from the 1950s who meet for lunch on the first Tuesday of each month at area restaurants. With memories as sharp as swords, they fondly look back on that Nov. 8, 1949, game, which they organized and played as members of the Fort Smith High School Pep Club. The legendary game was an exhibition staged as a fundraiser for the pep club, which made up both teams. Even the women’s male classmates got in on the twist, dressing up as female attendants for a gender-switching homecoming ceremony.“All those boys, you know, they were trained to play football,” said 75-year-old Catherine Graham Crosland, a 1950 graduate and director for the Nifty Fifties group. “We girls just came out onto the field and we played because back in those days, a girl didn’t really know how to throw a football. Things were a little different back then. Girls just didn’t play many sports at that time.”
Crosland smiled while discussing the game, which cost 50 cents for people to attend. She was a quarterback for that famous girls’ game, and even though she lacked the throwing arm of Joe Montana, Crosland held her own.“Oh, it was rough,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t throw a touchdown pass — heavens no — but it was so much fun. And I didn’t get hurt. I stayed out of the way, but poor Connie (Lichty Smith), she was knocked out.”Joan Davis, 75, remembers the football game as if it happened last week.“Yeah, I was one of the girls who tackled Connie, but I don’t know if she knows I was one of them,” she said in a shy tone. “But there were other girls who did it, too. I just can’t remember who.“But I do remember one girl who caught the ball and ran to the wrong goal posts,” Davis added. “Someone got their shoulder broken, too, so they banned having a girls’ football team there forever, which probably was a good thing.”That unpredictable game is one of the countless stories members of the Nifty Fifties group share with each other over sandwiches, hamburgers, salads and dessert. Comprised mostly of graduates of the class of 1950, the group started meeting in the middle 1970s as a way for females to play catch-up with each other on a regular basis. Don C. Holmes, a 77-year-old graduate from the class of ’50, crashed those plans for an all-girl group.“They used to meet out at Central Mall, and Don saw them over there and became interested,” said Holmes’ wife of 57 years, Mary Holmes. “He said he wanted to know what they were doing, so he went over there and talked with them. He said, ‘I’m going to see if I can join them.’ Then he became part of the group.”Several male classmates quickly followed Don Holmes’ lead, making the monthly get-togethers truly a co-ed affair. Even classmates from the late 1940s got in on the sentimental fun, boosting the attendance number to about 35 each month. Some graduates thrive on burning up the highway to make the luncheons, driving from as far away as Houston, Oklahoma City and Broken Arrow, Okla.“It’s great that we have people from other classes who meet, too,” said Sue McGee, a 1951 graduate. “You can see everybody talks and likes each other, and we have a good time. Plus, I just graduated, you know. I’m still young.”The group recently held a combined reunion for the classes of 1950 and 1951 and is hosting its annual Christmas party on Dec. 14 at the Lighthouse Inn.“We’ve all been friends since high school; that is the best part about all of this,” Crosland said. “Some of these friendships started out in grade school.”The lively hum of conversation never dipped during the group’s Oct. 9 meeting at Goodson’s on Greenwood. Their enthusiasm for discussion and a friendly debate never wanes, and they bond over the memories they have of the 85 classmates from 1950 who have died over the years.“I married Steve Crosland, who was also a graduate of 1950,” said Crosland. “We married in 1960 and he died in 2001. Yeah, we waited to get married after high school. I was having too much fun in high school to get married. But we ended up together and were together for a long time.”The chemistry found within the Nifty Fifties group appears infectious. Goodson’s staff members smiled from afar as the former students told jokes and funny stories.“Everybody really does like each other, and no one really has changed since high school,” said Crosland with a sparkle in her eye.Don Holmes agreed.“No one’s personality has changed since school,” he said with a gradual grin. “That’s why we still have this togetherness. It’s a great closeness we share.”So close that Peggy Boatright Putnam, Paul Gean and their Nifty Fifties fellow members hold annual class reunions. Their 50th reunion, held in 2000, drew 172 people to The Oaks by Goodson’s.“We used to have a Christmas dance every year, but now we’re just going to meet and visit for Christmas,” Crosland said.With each tale told at their luncheon, the Nifty Fifties group slowly peels back the “Leave-it-to-Beaver” misconception of the 1950s. They were — and still are — good, caring people, but many harbored a constant appetite for in-class pranks and after-class adventure, Crosland said.“We had some good times in school,” she said. “It was a wonderful, wonderful time back then.”One day in school, several future Nifty Fifties group members momentarily shoved their books aside to make a small bomb to be placed in the boys’ restroom. The contraption caused more of a scare and gossip than injuries, Crosland said. Another teenager was expelled from Fort Smith High School after masterminding a prank involving a four-legged animal, she said.“One guy dropped an opossum into Miss Edna Earle Massey’s piano, and when she played the piano, the possum ran out,” Crosland said. “And then Miss Massey ran out screaming. Then the kids ran down the hall screaming.”After his banishment, the guilty student tried his luck at St. Anne’s Academy, she said.“Well, the sisters at St. Anne’s asked the boy if he played ball, because they needed someone to play,” Crosland said. “He said that he did, so they asked his name. He told them his name and they suddenly said, ‘We have no room for you here.’ Just like that.”Cruising, or as Crosland and her friends called it, “Dragging the Gut,” was a favorite past-time of dozens of Fort Smith High School students, whether they rode in a convertible or in a vehicle with a hard top.“Oh yes, every Friday and Saturday night, we’d cruise Garrison Avenue,” Crosland said. “We’d go to the 22 Drive-in on Highway 22 and to the Sky View Drive-in up by Midland Boulevard to watch movies.”Sometimes, Crosland’s classmates felt like they existed inside a movie.“One time, we were driving by what is now First National Bank by the mall,” Crosland said. “Gene Boone was driving and we heard there was a gang fight in Van Buren, and we wanted to go over there and see what was happening.”Crosland then paused, as if she wasn’t going to finish the story.“Well, we took the corner there by where the bank is, and all I remember is seeing the car seats up in the air and I was sitting on the car’s ceiling,” she said. “I saw the lights turn over, and we had flipped. Thank goodness we all walked away from that OK, except I lost my shoe. My shoe must have flown out the window. We never found it.”Crosland made sure she wore shoes when she and her high school peers participated in impromptu jitter-bug challenges at the Branding Iron.“We loved to dance, and they had live bands play there for those dances; it was exciting,” she said. “It was a great time, and the owners of the Branding Iron even came to our wedding.”Jerry Hendrix remembers the sunny afternoon when his track coach busted him for skipping class.“Me and some friends — pretty much all of the starters on the track team — skipped and went to Waterfall Park, between Van Buren and Alma, to swim,” said the 76-year-old Greenwood resident. “We later tried to get back in time for practice. Well, we came back and coach Thompson was standing by the gate, watching. He said, ‘If I hadn’t made plans already for the track meet in Missouri, I’d cancel.’ So we had to report to Sunshine Study Hall for a week.”One of Jackie Bell DuPree’s most vivid memories is the girls’ football game. She played a tailback, and in her mind, the bruises, sore muscles and small ponds of blood on the field were worth the effort.“It was fun and we made quite a bit of money for the pep club,” DuPree said. “And we got to see the men as the queen and attendants. That was funny.”John Baker, and his wife, Peggy, like to reminisce about their first couple of dates in high school that led to an on-again, off-again relationship for about three years.“We took our time getting married — 47 years,” he said. “We knew each other in school and then met again in 1998, and we got married in 2000. Both of us lost our spouses before.”Bill Etzkorn is glad the Nifty Fifties members have an open-door mentality for potential friends. A 1947 graduate from St. Anne’s Academy, he pledged his love and faithfulness to Fort Smith High School student Margaret Breedlove and, in his words, “married into” the group.“My favorite thought of all this is, I’m just glad I’m out of high school,” Bill Etzkorn said as his classmates erupted into laughter.“I think the main thing is, we all graduated,” Don Holmes added.Unlike the spirit of the Nifty Fifties group, Fort Smith has changed drastically over the last 30 years, he said.“When they first opened Central Mall here, I said, ‘What are you doing?’ Don Holmes said with a laugh. “When it started, it was out in the country. In Fort Smith, you could drive three blocks back then and be out in the country. The city is so different now.”“Yes, it is different,” Crosland added. “Back then, there was no gum-chewing, no hand-holding and no running in the school halls. These days, it’s no sex, no drugs and no guns in school. These are different times.”The Nifty Fifties group was created as a way to celebrate the past and the present, despite the world being a more serious place now, she said.“Getting together is a highlight for us each month — we are uptown here,” Crosland said with a laugh. “But there really is no organization here. If you can make the lunch, we are glad you are here. If you can’t make it, it’s OK. We’ll miss you, but we’ll see you the next time.”

15 Minutes of Fame...Maybe

This past week Scott Smith, a reporter for the Southwest Times Record, emailed me about a letter he'd received from Joan Gutensohn Davis about our upcoming class reunion. He wanted to do a story about it. Since it was after the fact, I emailed him about the Nifty Fifties monthly lunches instead and gave him Catherine Graham Crosland's name as a contact.

Long story short: He will be coming to the Nifty Fifties lunch on Tuesday, October 9, at Goodson's on Old Greenwood Road to get a story for the paper.

'50-'51 Reunion Dinner

Eighty-five people attended the reunion dinner at the Lighthouse Inn on Saturday, September 29. The occasion marked the 56th reunion for the class of 1951 and the 57th reunion for the class of 1950. Attendance was about evenly divided between the two classes with a few from the classes of '48, '49, '52, and '53.

Buddy Moore welcomed everyone and Paul Gean gave the blessing. Most of those who attended live in Arkansas, but there were quite a few from Oklahoma and Texas; and one each from Georgia and Florida. The "prize" for traveling the farthest, however, would go to Otis and Joyce Fox who flew in from Oxnard, California.