Stinkin' Lincoln Memory

Check out the back row of this partial class picture of Lincoln School fourth graders.

There's Larry Copley. He used to commentate Bulldog sporting events. Last I heard he was up in Alaska, speaking on tour trains.

And, Mrs. Alberta Sutliff. She was our favorite teacher at Lincoln School. She taught us in the fourth grade and later served as principal. As opposed to the other somewhat stiff, proper, elderly ladies, Mrs. Sutliff seemed pretty friendly and cool to us back in 1956-57.

It wasn't so cool the day she caught me on all fours at the front of the row talking to someone shortly after the noon bell rang, though.

She slapped me on the rear and told me to get back to my seat in the back. I had it coming and never held that against Mrs. Sutliff. I also stayed in my seat after the bell rang from that day on---in fourth grade, at least.

Next to Mrs. Sutliff is JoAnn Levering. She might have been from one of the "rich" families among our lot. I don't know. It just seemed like it cuz she always wore frilly dresses and lived in that cute "cottage" type home on the corner of Boyer and maybe Poplar or Alder.

I thought it was really neat when JoAnn agreed to come out and visit me at the farm one Saturday. My folks had gone to an Appaloosa horse show in Pullman for the day, so that left my brothers and me to tend the farm. Generally (HA!!) back in those days parents could leave their kids home alone and not worry---too much.

Of course, it's documented that we three older Brown children gave our folks reason to be a little cautious about leaving for more than 15 minutes at a whack. Well, that day, once JoAnn arrived, my brothers launched an all-out plan to torment the hell out of JoAnn and me.

I could take their harassment cuz I was used to it. But JoAnn was sensitive. Within an hour, she was calling her parents, begging them to come and pick her up. JoAnn never came back to visit, and I was smart enough not to invite her. I don't know what ever happened to JoAnn.

The girl next to JoAnn appears to be a mystery to me on this morning.

Then, there's Kathleen Brackney, standing next to Miss curly locks, Marianne Brown, who, of course, has an appendage that's threatening to fall off. Marianne always seemed to be holding on to some body appendage. As a teacher, she worried about her head falling off, so she constantly grasped her chin.

Now, why are these people all in the back row?

Well, of course, it's cuz we were the tallest in our class. Looks like JoAnn may have nudged Kathleen and me out that year, but after that, we both towered over most of our Lincoln classmates and always stood in the back row.

My memories of Kathleen were revived late yesterday afternoon when the phone rang. It was a lady from the eye doctor's office at Costco where my mother's going for an appointment today and for a new prescription which should help her with her daily crossword puzzle. Maybe she won't have to use the magnifying glass with her glasses if all goes well.

The lady called after I had called back to confirm that we still planned to arrive on time today. She had seen the list for today's appointments and a light bulb went off in her head.

She identified herself as Charlene Jones and then said, "I'm a Brackney." Turns out she was Kathleen's little sister who tagged along with us occasionally when I'd go down to visit Kathleen, whose dad Tom ran the University of Idaho Experiment Farm back in the 1950s-'60s.

Well, Charlene lives in Coeur d'Alene these days, as does her sister Peggy who teaches English at Lake City High School. Charlene's husband is a counselor at Coeur d'Alene High School and an active member of the Idaho Education Association. Meanwhile, Kathleen has worked as a nurse in Coeur d'Alene for years. Charlene tells me there mom is still living.

So, in our ten-minute phone conversation we skimmed the highlights of 45 years since I last saw Charlene. I have a feeling a little more history will get updated today.

I was thinking about my visits to the Brackney house, which wasn't far from Lincoln School. The first time I ever dialed a phone was at Brackney's. We, further on down North Boyer, still had the crank wall phone at the time, so it was a big day to pick up that receiver and dial those numbers.

I also did some roller skating down there, and, as the perennial klutz, spent a lot of time "down there" on the ground.

My dad was good friends with the farm hand who worked at the experiment farm. That would be Charlie Johnston. The two of them shared hunting experiences and told the tales for years after.

Yup, that call yesterday took me back a year or two, and looking at that class photo above does the same. We all came from somewhat humble roots, but we all did okay too. Maybe Mrs. Sutliff had something to do with that.