In 1957, our 2nd grade class was in competition with every other class at Jefferson Elementary to sell unneeded merchandise to family and friends on behalf of the PTA. This meant putting the arm on everyone you knew to buy wrapping paper, greeting cards and candy. The class selling the most got to knock off for an afternoon and go see a movie at the Texas theatre in downtown Sherman.
We went about the task with gusto and proved to be the most aggressive group at school, outselling all other grades by a wide margin (or perhaps our parents yielded under the pressure more readily). We won and the movie was the recently released Disney epic “Old Yeller”! Parents were called upon to drive us to the theatre, to chaperone and drive us back to school. Fellow pupil Joe Price's mom gave each child a quarter for treats while viewing the movie. Twenty five cents bought a lot of candy and we were all giddy with excitement.
They marched us into the movie, the lights dimmed and we were all fine until about the last 20 minutes of the film. The older brother has to shoot the rabid Old Yeller and all 30 of us, lost it. We were sobbing.
The movie was over, the lights went up and they herded us out to the street to wait in line for the parents to drive us back to school. We were all bent and shaking with grief in front of the theatre, with tears, chocolate and snot covering our red blotched faces. Our teacher, Mrs. Harold and the parents did the best they could to ebb the flow of tragedy pouring forth on the concrete on Houston Street, but nothing could be done. As she was guiding children into cars, I heard Mrs. Harold mutter under her breath, “It’s just not worth it.”
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