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SAFEGUARDING MY FAMILY JEWELS FROM THE PINER JR HIGH SCHOOL NURSE

     I was to enter Piner Junior High School in the fall of 1962 as a 7th grader.  Piner was one of two junior highs in Sherman and housed grades 7 through 9.    This was just down the street from our new home on South Travis and I was initially looking forward to the transition.  One downside was our mascot name…the high school was the Bearcats, our junior high 8th and 9th graders were the Wildcats.  The 7th grade was the Kittens, which has to be the worst name for a group of insecure, status seeking 11-12 year olds.   That same year the school system eliminated football for 7th graders, which was actually a blessing because no one wanted to play with “KITTENS” on their jerseys. 

     But, perhaps the worst stunt ever pulled on me (I am arguably the most naive individual to ever come out of Grayson County, Texas,) was when my own father told me I would have to get a shot as I went into junior high.  This shot would keep me from getting venereal disease.  I did not know the meaning of the word, but he said it was required by law, otherwise the disease would obliterate children all over the state.   

     Then he dropped the bomb.

     The shot would be administered to all 7th grade boys at the same time, on the first day of school.   We would all be lined up in the hall outside the cafeteria, take our jeans and underwear off, hang them on pegs and wait our turn to get a shot in our TESTICLES!  My father said it was awful.  All the boys would be crying, there was an old nurse who had been administering this same procedure for years and it required the use of a square needle.  It was pure agony to wait there in line with all your friends…everyone crying, hearing the screams from the other side of the partition.  When it was your turn, she slowly grabbed your scrotum with a trembling icy hand, moved your penis to the side and slammed that square needle home, as the medicine was slowly injected into the left ball.  (It had to be the left one).  The pain continued for weeks, but there was nothing to be done.  The only escape was to drop out of school and become a ditch digger.

     My reaction to this saga was…TO HELL WITH THIS…I AM OUT OF HERE!  There were freight trains that passed near our house and I could already see myself chasing one down for parts unknown.  There was no way I was going to take a shot in my “Huevos Rancheros”, particularly with no anesthetic!  Thanks for the update Dad and have a good life, but I would much rather spread venereal disease (whatever the hell that is) through Texas than sacrifice myself on the altar of the worst possible type of pain.  I have been protecting these boys in my tighty whities for the past 11 years and I am not going to stop now because of some state law!  I will miss my mother and little brothers, but life does not always work out as planned.


     Fortunately, the kindly janitor of Bryant Elementary, named Governor, was a friend.  I went to see him and shared with him what I had been told.  I reasoned if this were the case I would have heard about it from some of the upperclassmen.  He chuckled and said this was a story idle children told to scare younger boys…do not believe it.  (Only this  was from my own father).  That piece of information surprised Governor, but he put my mind at ease and I did not have to leave town or become a ditch digger for the rest of my life.  I entered the 7th grade with my family jewels unmolested,  protected and free from the frosty tentacles of a sadistic, elderly nurse from Piner Jr High. 

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