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Playing hookey

On a beautiful or even not-so-beautiful day, kids sometimes didn’t want to go to school. If they were bold enough, sometimes they “played hookey.” If they were lucky, they didn’t get caught.

Here, Cliff Peterson, an old-timer in Nebraska, describes his own hookey adventure. Surely some Gunnison schoolboys have similar stories!


An Old Man’s Thought of School

An old man’s thought of School;
an old man, gathering youthful memories and blooms, that youth itself cannot.

Now only do I know you!
O fair auroral skies! O morning dew upon the grass!

And these I see—these sparkling eyes,
these stores of mystic meaning—these young lives,
building, equipping, like a fleet of ships—immortal ships!
Soon to sail out over the measureless seas,
on the Soul’s voyage.

Only a lot of boys and girls?
Only the tiresome spelling, writing, ciphering classes?
Only a Public School?

Ah more—infinitely more;
(as George Fox rais’d his warning cry, “Is it this pile of brick and mortar—these dead floors, windows, rails—you call the church?
Why this is not the church at all—the Church is living, ever living Souls.”)

And you, America,
cast you the real reckoning for your present?
The lights and shadows of your future—good or evil?
To girlhood, boyhood look—the Teacher and the School.

Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

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Etiam pulvinar consectetur dolor sed malesuada. Ut convallis euismod dolor nec pretium. Nunc ut tristique massa.

Nam sodales mi vitae dolor ullamcorper et vulputate enim accumsan. Morbi orci magna, tincidunt vitae molestie nec, molestie at mi. Nulla nulla lorem, suscipit in posuere in, interdum non magna.