Starting Kindergarten…A Life Harrowing Experience!
It was the summer of 1962. Life was good in our little town of Mantua. We had grown up in a fairly sheltered environment… that is, until the summer that we started kindergarten. Two years earlier in 1960, the old two- room Mantua Elementary school had closed its doors. From that time forward, Mantua elementary students would be transported by bus to the newly built Mountain View Elementary school in Brigham City.
In those days kindergarten was only held for about six weeks in the summertime prior to starting the first grade that fall.
Although it was a short trip - three or four miles to Brigham City, a few of our parents determined that it would be best to send some of us together in a carpool. In 1962 I believe our group consisted of Paula Johnson, Me, Gladys Clawson, Reed Nelson, Mona Sorensen, Jan Tingey, Larry Hansen and Burke Nelson. I don’t know how many of us did the carpool, but the parents of those who did took turns driving us to and from school.
The only reason I remember any of this, is that one day Carolyn’s Mom couldn’t drive us, so they asked their neighbor Maude Petersen to drive the car pool. Maude was the sweetest lady you will ever meet. I believe she was a retired nurse. She lived by herself. Carolyn told me that although they weren't related, the Craner's referred to her as ‘Aunt Maude.’ Maude drove what we today would call “a classic car”. It was from the 30’s or 40’s. Even new cars in 1962 featured no seat belts. Most cars prior to 1960 had metal dashboards.
So here we were, a group of pre-schoolers, bouncing off the walls and ceiling with no restraining devices and too much energy. Poor Maude probably wondered what she had gotten herself in for. She did have one secret weapon though, to get our attention and quiet us down… as we were driving past the Brigham City cemetery and approaching “Fife’s Hill” where the road drops steeply down towards the elementary, Maude said something like, “Hold on tight everyone, my brakes aren’t too good and don’t always work!” We were suddenly silent and braced for what might happen next.
Fortunately, the brakes did work that day, and we escaped our first brush with death! (Or perhaps, maybe we had all been given a dose of nurse Peterson’s “quiet medicine.”)”—Dean Halling
