In September when school started,
Vancouver High School was another totally new experience for an old country
boy. Shumway Junior High went through
the ninth grade so VHS had the sophomore, junior, and senior classes and there
was upward of three hundred students in each class.
Vancouver
High was a large red brick building on the corner of 29th and Main
Streets which meant that we had to walk about sixteen blocks to and from
school. We thought nothing of that,
however, after years of walking a mile and a quarter to Bona School.
Part
of the newness, other than size, was that I found that I could choose some of
my courses besides the basics that were required for graduation. We were each assigned a faculty advisor who
could help lay out our courses. I was
delighted because I had been mulling over a plan all summer off and on—I wanted
to go to the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland.
I
made an appointment with my advisor, Mr. Louis Barter who taught history and
economics, and explained what I wanted to do.
He said that he did not think I would have a chance of getting a
senatorial appointment to Annapolis because they were limited and were usually
filled two or three years in advance, often by politicians’ sons. He pointed out, however, that eighty men a year
were taken from the enlisted ranks in the Navy by competitive examination and
based on their records in high school.
Together,
Mr. Barter and I laid out my courses for my junior and senior years so that I
would have all the prerequisites for the Annapolis examination, should the time
ever come. I was pleased when it turned
out that, if I skipped a foreign language, I could still have an elective
course each year. I would also have
plenty of time for extra-curricular school activities.
After
tossing that football around half the summer with Rex Lester, I decided to turn
out for football with the Vancouver Trappers.
That was a mistake because I weighed all of 135 pounds. I insisted to Mr. Gustafson, the assistant
football coach that I could play end (we did not have “wide receivers” in those
days) and he agreed to give me a chance on the scrub team. Coach “Dutch” Shields took one look at my
skinny frame and just shook his head.
My
high school football “career” came to an abrupt end on the occasion of our first
scrimmage with the varsity. I had made a
favorable impression on Gustafson by demonstrating pretty good speed and the
ability to leap and catch the football form just about any angle. That first scrimmage game in pads with the varsity
was something else however. The varsity
players averaged around 165 to 170 pounds so I was outweighed about thirty
pounds per man.
I
did my share of blocking for the halfback and fullback then Gustafson called a
pass play to me. I streaked out into the
flat and leaped high into the air for the ball.
I caught it but when I hit the ground it felt as if a truck had hit
me. A 175-pound tackle brought me down and
then it seemed as if the whole varsity piled on. There were no face masks then and my face was
buried into the sod until I thought my nose was broken. The wind was knocked out of me and it took me
two or three minutes to get up off the ground after Gustafson came out and made
sure that nothing was busted. I turned
in my suit and helmet and, from then on, my participation in football was
confined to rooting and once in a while acting as spotter for the announcer at
games.
