An incident that happened in 1949 or 50, is one I have related through the years. In my wildest imagination, however, did I expect to be repeating it to the principal participant.
Three or four years ago, I was fortunate to be sitting with Julian Brewer, at the morning coffee table, in the old Jim Adams' Cafeteria in Paris. Sitting closest to Mr. Brewer and me was Jonah McKenzie.
The incident involved Mr. Brewers Civics Class. Through the years, the only thing I had remembered about the make up of the class: there were 20 students, one girl and nineteen boys. The only name I could remember was a minister's son, who I will not identify here. And of course I was in the class. Jonah admitted he was also a member of the class.
Mr. Brewers Class was in the phase of requiring home work obtained from the court house, city government and other offices. Most of the class was in the habit of not bringing in these city assignments. Most did not like the idea of having to go to the downtown government to get their homework. What we thought a Civics Class would involve, I have no idea. After a few days or maybe weeks, of students not having assignments, Mr. Brewer finally reached the end of his patience.
On this particular day, after calling on three or four students that did not have their assignments, Mr. Brewer started at the first row, asking each student if they had their homework. Only the girl and the ministers son, had their work. The minister's son, however, apparently not wanting to be left out of the boys group, indicated he did not have his work. (While this individual was a likable person to begin with, he endeared himself to the other boys forever, with his actions that day.)
I cant recall if Mr. Brewer had the paddle in his room or had to send to the principals office but this monstrosity appeared. Looked brand new, about 2 feet long, 4 inches wide, with well placed, drilled holes. Obviously made from Mr. Hudsons shop oak supply, from which we had been making new arm chair desks all year. He started with the first student, in the first row, and gave us ten licks each. He preceded through the entire nineteen boys. I recall my desk was in the middle of the room and by the time he got to me he was beginning to tire, which I really appreciated. As most of you will remember, any noise, in that old building, reverberated. The other classes could hear every swat of the paddle. I would later find out everyone wondered what in the world was going on. This class was the last before the first lunch period of the day. I recall when we were taking our lunch, in the old gymnasium, everybody was a buzz, trying to find out what had happened. While everyone found out in short order, I did not volunteer any information, at the time.
When I finished with my version of the story at the coffee table that morning, Mr. Brewer looked up, with at least a small smile on his face, and said something like, "Every time I hear that story it gets worse."
If any of you would like to admit you were in that class, I would be happy to add your name to the list and any comments you may have.
You may contact me/the site by CLICKING HERE .
Admitted Members of 'The Whupped Class
Donald Laster ~ See Don's Comments
Ted Jenkins ~ See Ted's Comments
James Dickie Vaughn ('53) ~ See Dickie's Comments
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