My Self Portrait, age 16

THIS WAS SUPER GREAT!  One night each week the neighboring town of West Mansfield invited a local school to hold an amateur contest which was held at the town movie theater.  The year was 1935.  Mrs. Herring, our school music teacher, happily entered her prize high school boys’ octet. As a trio the three Hinze sisters entered.  We had four entries, all high school students.

Always anxious to take front and center stage, I convinced my friend Margaret, both of us eight graders, to enter with me. The big night for our little country school came.  We sang “Breaking in a Pair of Shoes”. Then she sang while I did a soft shoe tap dance pretending that my feet hurt with each step, like  Ooch! Ouch! Ooch!

Now all five entries have performed.  A man comes on stage and says, “As I call out each entry, your applause will determine the winner.”  For one entry the applause is so loud and so long with shouts and whistles it left no doubt.  “Breaking in a Pair of Shoes” won!  We eighth graders won over the high school kids, over Mrs. Herring’s super boy’s octet.  I was delighted but the thought of retribution cooled me down.  I’m sure you realize life is not always fair, but I’m getting ahead of my story.

So…..life goes on and I’m now a freshman sitting behind Edwin, one of the octet. He turns around and starts talking to me while Mrs. Herring is talking to our class. Whoa!!!!!!  She stopped talking.  She looked daggers at me and read me out to a fair-you-well!  That look and her harsh words hurt me so badly I lay my head on my desk and cried until the class was over.

A few days later Edwin told me he had confessed to Mrs. Herring that he was the one talking.

~

HANG IN THERE!!  THIS STORY GOES ON!!   We jump ahead two years.  I’m now a junior.  Mrs. Herring announces we’re going to do an operetta.  It’s spring 1939.  For try outs a couple of senior girls are called out of the room and come back all bubbly and happy.  The next day Mrs. Herring gives out the names for the leads.

I don’t believe it!  It can’t be!  She gave me the lead and Margaret the second lead.  Before the two nights’ performances my mother and dad came back to their farm home after spending the winter in California.  Soon while visiting with Len Hornbeck, his friend and the town barber, Len told my dad , “I’ve been hearing good things about your daughter.”  My dad said, “Who Fannie?”  Len replied, “No!”  Dad followed with, “Who Hazel?”  Again the answer was “No!”  My father just couldn’t guess!  Len had to tell him…..”Florence!”

“Oh!”  He wasted no time coming to where I lived beside his York Center stone quarry.  He walked in the door  “Sure enough there she is, I do have a daughter Florence.”

Me at 16

How I know this is he told me himself.  Much to my surprise he gave me money and asked me to purchase twelve or so tickets to the operetta.  He called Mabel and Margaret Rockhold, his brother’s daughters in Lima, and asked them to join him and my mother to attend.  They all four sat together in the fourth row laughing their heads off.  He gave tickets to my siblings.  Several of my brothers and sisters came including my sister Bobbie, who came up from Columbus.

Mind you, my mother and dad had never, I emphasize NEVER, attended any public function in the York Center community.  This was a first!

My Parents

When all is said and done you know what?  I think Mrs. Herring was apologizing to me for that undeserved scolding.  “Mrs. Herring, in all good faith, apology accepted.” Perhaps I should also tell you, in all good faith, I never had tap dance lessons and had trouble carrying a tune……?!!

“Breaking in a Pair of Shoes”

All dressed up, new hat and everything,
All dressed up, all set to have a fling.
Here am I….breaking in a pair of shoes.

Got a date with someone I adore.
Now I’m late I’ll bet he’s good and sore.
I could cry….breaking in a pair of shoes.

Some hot band will soon be deliverin’.
Givin’ out music that’s hot.
Should I dance?  Take a chance?
Ouch my tootsies!

I don’t know my feet may be breakin’ down.
Even so I gotta go to town.
Here I go….breaking in a pair of shoes.

 

My Operetta Solo:

Oh it’s mighty hard for me to be a goody good.
And I know because I’ve thought it out before.
I’m no better when I’ve done the very best I could,
So I don’t believe I’ll try it any more.

When at school I’d always find myself in awful scrapes,
When I didn’t do a thing but what I ought.
All the others seemed to manage with their close escapes,
But it nearly always happened I was caught.

Now I’m grown I must confess I like to flirt a bit.
What’s the harm as long as no one seems to care.
But my relatives and friends they almost have a fit.
And they talk as if I’ll drive them to despair.

Oh it’s mighty hard for me to be a goody good.
And I know because I’ve thought it out before.
I’m no better when I’ve done the very best I could,
So I don’t believe I’ll try it any more.

 FRF ♥