Some people are blessed with the
existence of their Alma Maters. I have
only one left myself; Rollins Grade School - burned down; Westport High in
Kansas City finally closed after more than 100 years; and Metropolitan Jr.
College went defunct right after I graduated in 1969. What I can say about the buildings themselves
is they were brick fortresses made to last.
Apparently, I’m one of those who are always on the tail end of things,
but at least I saw them in their better times.
The older I get, the more I sympathize with the English people who
highly regard and esteem continuity. I’m
also sad to say my old Main Street neighborhood has crumbled and changed so
much for the worse that I hardly recognize it.
It’s now like an entire culture and people never existed.
The photos show Westport High School
at 39th & McGee in Kansas City, Missouri and a corner of the old
Metropolitan Jr. College across the street that many of Westport’s graduates
attended. It looks to me like they were
built by the same company and, of course, there were no conveniences in those
days. When it got hot, it was really
hot. There was no carpeting. There were no elevators and those stair wells
went straight down to the concrete slab in front of the cafeteria; I was always
careful not to get too close to the rails that only came up to a little above
the knees. Hallway lockers had those wire
mesh doors which only partially aired funky gym clothes and the resident hoods
were always prying them open. On the
other hand, fights were a rarity because the bad guys would be promptly sent to
Coach Webster for swats or to the principal’s office for expulsion. That was Mr. Evans' job. Mr. Ball was the Principal. This was before the Left and its mischief had
destroyed convention, custom, and a respect for the law and its enforcement. There were no drugs use at Westport and there
was only a rumor or legend of someone getting stabbed.
Westport High School was more than a
hot brick building. The student teacher
ratio could be 48:1 and I remember many of them (1962-1967). Miss Bonnie, my Biology teacher, liked to
show off the baby in a bottle she kept in her supply room. It looked just like the one shown in the movie,
2001.
Coach Murphy, before he became the head football coach, used to walk to
the showers in the most remarkable fluffy house slippers. Dave Morton, a Kansas City TV weatherman
taught at the same time at Westport and I had him for U.S. History. I’m embarrassed to say he gave me an “I”, one
of the two I received - ever. Everyone
liked him because he was easy going and always fumbled with his words, at least in class. White haired Inez
Pletcher, the English teacher, was a favorite of mine not only because I liked
English, but because she knew I was openly “helping” Rod Patterson, our
basketball star, with his and let me get away with it. There were others: Mrs. Riley, the flamboyant art teacher; Mr.
Michaels, Math; Ernie Paris, the typing teacher; Mr. Blair, Shop; Fred Pohlman, Civics: Mr. Lehman, English; Mr. Miles, English (I think); Mrs. Batista,
Chemistry, and Ray Dice, Algebra. Others
are found in the complete set of Westport High School yearbooks preserved in
the new Mid-Continent Genealogy Library in Independence on Lee’s Summit Road.
