Second grade, McKinley Elementary, Yakima, WA, Mrs. Sandman’s class. I’m in the first row, 4th from the right. They put the kids with polio where the leg braces are not visible. I recall several girls in the class with leg braces and forearm crutches. It was part of life before the vaccine.
Third grade, McKinley Elementary, Mrs. Hayes’s class. Again, I’m in the front row wearing a striped shirt, among the smallest in the class. I was always a half-year behind in development because I was born in August. The photo represents the white middle-class culture of Yakima in the 1950s.
Fourth Grade, Parker Elementary, Mrs. Pence’s class. I’m in the front row, far left. The school was racially diverse because Parker, WA, is on the Yakima Indian Reservation. Our family had moved from Yakima to Thorp Road, south of Union Gap, in the Wapato School District.
Fifth Grade, Parker Elementary, Mr. Drake’s class. Yes, I’m the smallest boy, front row. Mr. Drake was an amateur magician and would reward good class behavior with his magic tricks. The bus routes changed, so I was sent to Parker Heights the following year.
Sixth Grade, Parker Heights Grade School, Mr. Blakley’s class. You guessed it; I’m in the front row, second from left. Parker Heights was considered a more up-scale school, but it had an inferiority complex when it came to intermural sports between Parker and Parker Heights.
This is where I learned the lesson of performance confidence despite being younger and smaller than an opponent. The Parker Heights boys assumed that because I was from Parker (the team that dominated the annual intermural baseball tournaments), I would be the batter at the plate they could count on to help Parker Heights finally win against Parker. Of course, the boys from Parker saw me as just another easy out. I did excel that day and put the ball in play more than our other players. It was about assumed confidence and living up to the expectations of my teammates.
A few words about baseball in rural Yakima Valley in the 1950s. Yakima has always been a baseball town, so to speak. The schools and parks had baseball fields with a diamond and backstop, usually with missing base plates. Few guys had baseball gloves in the “Lower Valley” grade schools where we lived. The culture and tradition was that if you had a glove, you left it on the field after the third out when your team went to play offense. The opposing team player would pick up your glove and use it on defense. It was accepted that not every player on the field had a glove. If you were a lefty, you had to adjust.
