Sibling Rivalry

Megan This happened way back in the early 1950s when I was about 13 years old.  Our family lived sort of a nomadic life with my Father being a Methodist Preacher.  Every year or two the Oklahoma Conference of the Methodist Church would decree that we should move to a new Church, and we would pack up and move on.  At the time I am thinking about we lived in a little town way down on the Southern Oklahoma border just East of Durant called Bokchito.  This, by the way, was the first parsonage we lived in which had indoor plumbing.  I can remember my Mother teaching me how to take a bath in a bath tub, but that is not what this tale is about.  Now I don't know what life was like for my folks at that time--I guess no one really can understand their parents lives, but it was tough for us Preacher's Kids changing towns, friends, and schools every time we turned around.  Part of the way we PKs adjusted to this change was by showing-off in front of our new-found friends and school-mates.  This tale is of one of those showings-off.

          The school in Bokchito was right across the street from the Methodist Church and the Parsonage.  I believe I was in the 6th grade at the time.  They must have been short of teachers that year as JoAnn, who was a year behind me, and I were in the same classroom.  The students sat in rows with the 6th graders on the right side and the 5th graders on the left.  I sat on the right side about two-thirds of the way back, and JoAnn to my left 2 or 3 rows over.  Naturally the teacher was in front with a black board behind her.  One spring day that year the subject must have been quite boring--it was probably Oklahoma History, because we ended up taking it over and over as we moved from school to school--I think I learned it at least 3 times.  Anyway, whatever the subject was, it must have been boring.  While the teacher was writing on the blackboard, I distracted myself for a while by whispering with classmates.  Eventually I caught JoAnn's eye and threw a paper wad at the blackboard while the teacher's back was turned.  If I recall correctly my paperwad was not thrown hard enough to get the teacher’s attention, or did not reach the blackboard objective.  I am sure that I purposely did not apply enough impetus.  Anyway I immediately acted very innocent, and did so successfully.  In the sibling contest I was now a big one up on JoAnn.  Eventually the teacher turned again to write on the board.  I signed to JoAnn (the same Jo Ann who is today a law abiding member of society) that she should do the same, i.e., I double dare you to throw one too.  JoAnn (the very same Jo Ann who is today a church-going Christian woman) not being as smart then as she is now, was unable to resist the temptation and challenge.  I watched with eager anticipation as she prepared to show all the class (at least those who could see what was happening) that she was braver and could throw harder and straighter than her brother..

          Now 5 decades later I can still see in my mind the mortified look on her face when, reared up with a large paperwad in her right hand drawn back to throw, the teacher turned around and caught her.  Did I think it was funny?  I think I almost had apoplexy trying to keep from laughing.  You can imagine what JoAnn thought.  I mean that was a pretty serious offense for a new kid in school.  I can not remember the derivation of the phrase ‘caught red-handed’, but I sure know the meaning, and that is precisely how JoAnn (the identical Jo Ann who is now a Lay Leader in the Methodist Church) was caught.  If the teacher had waited 1 or 2 seconds later to turn she would have been home free, but, if memory serves correctly, when we got out for lunch, she had to stay behind and got paddled for it.  She was a good trooper though, she didn’t tell on me.

          I guess I also was not as smart then as now, because when I walked across the street to the parsonage for lunch, and Mama asked where JoAnn was, and I could have said something like, I don’t know, or she will be here in a few minutes, but not me.  I told her what had happened, and that JoAnn was being spanked.  Naturally I only told of Jo Ann’s part in the escapade.  Of course, Mama got just about as upset as the teacher.  When JoAnn came in a few minutes later after being paddled at school, Mama punished her as well.  Then she told Mama that I did it too, but I just didn’t get caught.  I can remember, I think, explaining that it’s not the same thing: That I didn’t get caught on purpose.  All in all it was a bad lunch.  I was glad to get out of the house before JoAnn and go back to school where no one knew I had told.  I expected to be treated by my classmates somewhat like a returning war hero.  I’m sure you can understand my meaning.  Unfortunately I was not quick enough, because when I looked back there was JoAnn with revenge in her eyes (the same kindly Jo Ann who is today a gentle 74 year old lady) picking up a rock.  I remember thinking she can not even throw a rock that far.  I turned and walked on because I wasn’t worried about getting hit, when all of a sudden Wham! She got me right in the head.  It practically knocked me cuckoo.  As she walked by she said something like, that’s what tattle-tales get.  She was quite vengeful back then.  I had to go back home to be bandaged up, and told on her again, I’m sure.

          So anyway, I don’t want us to end up like our ancestor Thomas Pettus down there in Williamsburg VA who all we know about him is that he went to church often enough to get his name painted on the pew.  I want our children’s, children to know more about us than that, and future generations will be able to know what sort of people we were.  I know you will find this very hard to believe about your Aunt Jo Ann, but once again, Megan, I swear this is all true.

Written for Megan the Puppy Dog,

                                                                      Your Uncle Bill