I attended Wessels School during the 1954-55 term. Edith Nesemeier of Rock Grove was the teacher. The kids were collected from all over the countryside and brought to the two little schools between German Valley and its suburb of Prairie Hill. From there two grades were sent to each of the small one-room schools in the newly-formed district until the new building could be completed. Fifth and sixth grades went to Wessels.

We were the last “gang” to occupy the school. Around the first of May the new grade school in German Valley was finished and we were moved lock, stock and ink well.

Thinking back, we were really a bunch of renegades. During the winter snows we had dandy snowball fights along the dead end road - except we had them at the west end of the mile so we couldn’t possibly hear the teacher call us in from recess. Someone had long ago disconnected the large bell and all she had was a six-inch brass bell that really didn’t do a respectable job at that distance. When we were cold, wet and tired, or the fighting among us got too much for even kids to take, we trudged back to an angry, frustrated teacher.

Terry Mathiot could “wang” the snowballs the hardest so everybody wanted him on their team. The only problem was that when the other team started to get the worst of the war, Terry switched sides and helped them out. He should have gone into politics instead of insurance sales!

Randall Bolen was the shortest guy in the school but he threw some mean iceballs until somebody discovered him soaking the snowballs and hiding them to freeze until the next recess. His fire power diminished after that.

There was an old rusty basketball hoop hanging by a thread on a wobbly post south of the building. Our crew invented a new game called “Hog Pile”. It was a mixture of basketball and football with some poor soul getting buried under a herd of kids at the cry of “Hog Pile!” Kind of like tackle football only no one was very gentle and there really weren’t any rules other than “Don’t ever get caught holding that dum’ ball or you will get smeared.” It’s a wonder no bones were broken.

One weekend Willis Jacobs, the local Case tractor dealer, lost his life at the Evarts underpass. Early Monday morning we all trooped down there to see whatever remained to be seen. One boy dragged part of the bumper back to school as a souvenir.

Down by the fence at the west edge of the yard stood an old abandoned road grader. Its steering wheel turned and, if you really strained, you could make the blade wiggle just a tiny bit. We spent many a noon hour climbing over the thing or sitting under it, discussing world-shaking topics that are important only to a fifth or sixth grader.

Just before the big move to the new school, we were given orders to clean a treasure of paint cans from a closet. Naturally, we had to open each can to make sure it actually contained the stated color of paint. One lid resisted even the strongest of us, so we slung the can against the north side of the school until the lid surrendered and flew off. Yellowish-lavender paint spattered over everybody and drooled down the red brick wall. For years it stayed there, reminding all who passed that kids CAN overcome any obstacle! When the Girl Scouts cleaned off all the names, unfortunately the lavender paint job went too.

None of the kids were discipline problems but we were all normal so it was a case of “us against the teacher!” The wisdom of time and experience shows me Nimbo wasn’t a bad teacher at all. She just had her hands full with a bunch of normal, healthy kids who gave Wessels School a final class to shudder its bricks out of place.

Some kids I can remember are shy David Greenfield who had an awful crush on petite Bonita Greve. Then there was Terry Mathiot who had most of the girls fighting over him. Quiet Larry Hinders was a “brain” already then. Darlene Ross was a spark pug of fun and was always bubbling. Charlene Ackerman was everybody’s best friend. The prettiest girl in class was Judy Ross. Rose Marie Buttel could make the piano come alive with music. Jerry Guth had so much happy mischief stored within him that it often spilled out and got the rest of us in trouble too; he was a big ball of fun! What Randall Bolen lacked in size, he more than made up for in spunk and good looks. Gale Schneiderman and Donna Wilken were very quiet but they were always ready to join in the fun. Larry Stein and Steve Borchers could do a right honorable job of batting a baseball. Jerrene “Rinky” Borchers was a pretty, giggly blond. Jo Ann Miller loved nail polish even then.

Perhaps I’ve left out some of the kids who were there those eight months, but time fades memory. That time at Wessels was one of my happiest years in school.