By Phil Roberts, 12/15/23
We were excited each year for the last day of school before Christmas vacation. First, in Lusk, it was a movie and, then sacks of hard candy tied up with ribbon. The 1st through 6th grade classes assembled in the gym, after teachers took role, recited the Pledge of Allegiance (Eisenhower hadn’t inserted “under God” yet) and handed back final papers. Lusk, in those days, seems to have had a particular tradition. The all-school “assembly” numbering some 200 students, their numbers made larger by the post-war baby boom, gradually filled the now-grade school gym–the two lower grades occupying seats in the bleachers, while older students got to sit on the gray metal folding chairs, arrayed in tight rows on the gym floor. The assembly began with holiday wishes from Miss Emma Sturman, the principal, and if more time was needed to set up the film, a few words from her assistant. . While this was going on, the teacher well-versed in running the clattering projector, made necessary adjustments on the screen as well as the sound speakers. Soon, despite the annoying flashes of light through gaps in the gym curtains, Miss Sturman issued the order for the show to begin. Some thought we were lucky to get the “new” 1951 version starring Alistar Sim. (One year, through a shipping error, we watched the 1938 version). I liked both versions. By the middle of the second reel, the first-graders were starting to fidget so Mrs. Groves and Miss Lumsden lined them up and down the steps they went in single file to collect their candy sacks and maybe snag a sugar cookie from the table set up in the gym lobby. By the time Scrooge was blessing everyone, (the racket of shoes and boots down bleachers drowning out the quaint English speech), the second grade classes were down and ready to collect their bounty and go home. That left only those seated in folding chairs on the floor.
I remember, in 1958, Steve and I were particularly nostalgic about the event. We knew it was the last day ever in that school. We had told no one that we’d be moving to Torrington over break. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Mrs. Kirch asked, standing next to the lobby table. “We would have had a party for you.” I didn’t say anything. We didn’t want a party for us and that’s why in every school of the many we attended, we waited to the very last minute to announce we were moving. As I told Steve that year, we’d never be missed. We made cameo appearances in the lives of many, assuming we’d never meet again. But that didn’t take into account “small-town” Wyoming and friendships, with breaks, enduring for the next half century and beyond.