Radio Shows

One of my favorite memories as a Woodsdale Kid was participating in the Oglebay Institute radio playhouse shows. My sisters also took part. We were assigned a role and on Saturday mornings would go downtown to the studio to become part of a play. Sometimes I got to be the soundeffects person and would slam doors or recreate hoofbeats with glee. I don't know whether anyone listened to these shows, but the experience of being part of it was delightful.
My mother had her own show on WMOD Moundsville at one time. I think it was called the Blue Fairy hour or something like that. She would read stories for kids and sometimes we got to do the readings. We had an extensive set of books around the house to chose stories from. My dad worked at the station as a salesman and he would bring home an old reel to reel tape recorder which he set on the dining room table. We would gather around the microphone and talk, read poems or stories. How I wish I had those tapes now.
Speaking of WMOD they played my favorite children's radio show Andy's Gang which featured Froggy the Gremlin who would "pluck his magic twanger" now and then. The show was sponsored by Buster Brown shoes and they came to the Strand theater in Moundsville one Saturday. There was some sort of contest where you had to collect bottle caps or something and the prize was huge (though I can not now remember what it was). My brothers and sisters and I turned up at the theater with our bottlecaps only to learn we could not enter the contest because my father worked for the station.
Another children's show I liked was Big John and Sparky. Anyone else remember any of these? Or even have radio memories of their own?

Signs of Spring

While walking to Woodsdale school each spring morning, I would look for the crocuses in one particular yard. If they were blooming, even in the snow, I knew spring was on its way. They were always the first flower to bloom. As things warmed up, I'd head out to Stratford hill to cull the crop of wildflowers. Do kids today even notice such things? Somehow, I doubt it.

Mr. Hile's Big Red Dog

As a Woodsdale student from grades 1-4, I was always intimidated by Mr. Hile. he was so tall and looked so much like Abe Lincoln! Since I lived on the Linsly campus where my father taught & coached, I walked home each day down Leatherwood Lane and soon learned that Mr. Hile owned the most beautiful dog I had ever seen! One Saturday I noticed him in his front yard throwing a ball to this large Irish Setter. Summoning all the nerve I could at the age of 6, I stopped to say hello and to pet his dog. From that day on, I was no longer afraid of Mr. Hile and, of course, fell in love with his dog. Each day, "Red" (the name I gave him) would meet me in front of the Hile house and escort me part of the way down Leatherwood lane to my house. My big sister was always there to watch after me on our walks to and from school but "Red" was my real protector.
Although I loved my years at Linsly, there were many days during the fifth grade that I looked up the street wondering if Red was missing me. We always made sure to check on each other most weekends.
My first dog as an adult?..........An Irish Setter!
Dave Keith

Old Friends Reappear

Thanks to this blogsite, I am now in touch with two of my old neighbors, Barbara and Stuart Rubenstein. Both live in California and like to read my posts. Stuart has called me several times and would like to get in touch with an old friend Robert Subitt...if any of you know where he is, please let me know. Seems Stu has become quite an expert on folkmusic so we had a lot to talk about. I actually ran into him once at the Troubador in Los Angeles. They left Woodsdale in 1962. Great to hear from old friends. I took the attached picture to send to Stuart..he was very fond of the old maples that lined both sides of Poplar until a tornado blew most of them down.

Why I Quit School in Fifth Grade

There were two fifth grade teachers at Woodsdale School: Miss Fritz the "nice teacher" who gave kids rides in her Cadillac and had parties in her room all the time. And then, there was Mrs. Woods, the "mean" teacher who looked like a snowy egret and ate children for breakfast. Everyone in my family older than I am had Miss Fritz and according to them she was the angel of teacherdom.
The first day of school, we stood outside on the steps waiting for our room assignments from Mr. Hile. When he said I was assigned to Mrs. Wood's class, I made up my mind to quit school rather than be tortured. IT JUST WASN'T FAIR!!! So I turned around and walked home. Where my dear, patient mother asked why I was there. "I quit school", I told her. I explained the inequity of my getting Mrs. Woods and her only reply was "Your father will be home tonite and you can tell him about it".
When Dad came home and I explained my plight, he showed little sympathy and told me we would talk further in the the morning. I went off to bed thinking he would make it all right. The next morning he said, "I've decided you can quit school, but you have to go tell Mr. Hile why".
The prospect of facing Mr. Hile, the principal was daunting. He looked like Abe Lincoln and though nice, was a bit scary. I sat in a leather wing-back chair in his office and told him that I just could NOT have "the mean teacher". After a long pause, he said, "Well, your father says it is alright if you quit school, but I think you owe it to Mrs. Woods to tell her why you are leaving".
The bottom fell out of my world! My heart was racing and so loud I could hear it screaming in my chest. Noooooooooooo! This was a fate worse than death, but I was determined. I tiptoed down the stairs to the first floor. All the doors were shut as classes were in session. Meekly, I knocked on Mrs. Woods door. After a few minutes she opened it and stuck her beak out. I asked if I could talk to her privately. She set the class to work and came out in the hallway. I explained that I was quitting school. She asked why I didn't want to be in her class. I replied, "Because you are "the MEAN teacher". She asked how I would know that since I had never been in her class. I was perplexed but told her EVERYONE knows. Eventually, she suggested that I should give her class a try before quitting so that I would have a sound basis for my decision.
That sounded fair to me, but she stipulated that at the end of the week, after school on Friday, we would talk about how the week went. I agreed. Well, that first week, I was a hero to all my classmates for standing up to her, but I soon began to see just how great she was at teaching. By Friday, I knew I wanted to stay, but I'd be damned if I was going to admit that I was wrong.
Friday came and during our interview I asked her if I could have another week as I still wasn't sure. This went on every week for the whole school year!
On my birthday, I got the shock of my life when she let my mother bring cupcakes and ice cream into the classroom. I learned so much that year, especially in geography and history, but was still not going to admit she was the best teacher I ever had. Meanwhile, the kids in Ms. Fritz' class got rides in her Cadillac, but I felt I had something better....a love of learning and a good teacher.
Many years later, I had to give a speech to 800 people at my graduation for Teachers' College. I recounted this story. But, that is not the end of the story....I found out that my father had called Mr. Hile and Mrs. Woods and explained that his daughter was stubborn, but not stupid and would give a teacher a chance to prove herself. Thanks to the MEAN TEACHER I learned a valuable life lesson which I used with my high school classes for many years.

On the Ball

Woodsdale school had an amazing lady named Eleanor Ball who taught English to recalcitrant junior high students for many, many years. She taught my mother, all my aunts and uncles, and my four older brothers and sisters before I had the "privilege" of being her student.
Basically she was mad as a hatter and terrified her students. She was tall, thin, white haired and was a bit bird-like in appearance. Her specialty was embarassing students who either couldn't or wouldn't learn what she had to offer.
To illustrate what a direct object was, she would throw an eraser at you! She talked to the window blinds and any unfortunate insects that happened into her classroom. We were required to memorize every prepostion in the English language and to this day, I'd say most of her students can still recite them. Diagramming sentences on the blackboard was particularly stressful, but by golly, it helped me understand the parts of speech.
One gimmick that she used as an "incentive' was her sticker clubs. For every success in grammar she would reward with a sticker to be placed on your special page which was usually prominently displayed in her classroom. I always found it embarassing.
Having said all that, I have to admit that to this day I thank her for her lessons. I cringe at mis-use of grammar and always think of her when I see it.
Now, the end of the story: When she was retiring, Miss Ball asked a friend of mine (who was a new teacher at the school and had been her pupil) to help her clean out her desk. In the drawer was a bottle of "cough syrup" which the wiley old lady admitted was a bit of vodka that would "help her through the bad days". Thank goodness for the Miss Balls of this world.

Woodsdale Kids' article in Magazine

Good News! An article with stories from this blogsite will be featured in Goldenseal Magazine in their Summer 2013 issue. If you are not familiar with this magazine, it is a publication of West Virginia Culture and History Department and has been around a LONG time. It features only stories about West Virginia and it's people. Check it out at the library, I don't think it is online. I also have another article in their next issue about Billy Sunday's 1910 visit to Wheeling. The people of Wheeling built a "tabernacle" for him that seated 8,000 and they built it in FOUR days.