Fond Memories of Canistoda SD. (Canistota: home, public school, educational)

[neverforget]

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sitting in the classroom of Canistota public school it was 1977 and the teacher had wrongly accused me of cheating on a test. Strangely, she had me sitting in the far back end of the room, by myself and she accused me of cheating off my neighbor sitting way across the room. She must have really liked me to give me a special place for my very own.

Well, I told the teacher that I was not cheating. How could I have been cheating given my special place way in the corner of the room? Well, just as I told her to take a hike, the beloved high school principle walked by and the teacher reported the incident to him.

Now, I agree with most of you readers, this was not a good thing to say to a teacher, even if I was wrongly accused. Apparently, Mr. Principle agreed because he proceeded to grab me by the back of the neck, march me out into the hall, and turned me to face him. He then grabbed my shirt collar and threw me against the wall. I distinctly remember the flash of white-hot pain as my head slammed into the wall. The next few minutes all happened rather quickly but I recall the principle was quite upset and decided the best way to handle my situation was to slam my head repeatedly into the wall, alternating with open palmed slaps to my face and head. As he did this he screamed over and over, "Mouth of the me you little son of a expletive deleted!" I could tell he was mad. In fact, I could tell by the deep red color of his face and the pulsing veins on his forehead, he was a special kind of mad. I had seen the same look at home more than once. Well, having been through this before, I knew the best thing to do was shut-up and ride it out. So, Mr. Principle continued to pound my head into the wall and yell at me while my class mates and science teacher looked on. I did mention that we only walked out into the hall. Well as a result, I was kicked out of school for the remained of the day and told I had to bring my parents into school the next day.

Needless to say, they were less than happy. In fact, my father thought it might be a good idea to pound on the other end for a while before sending me to my room. The next day, Dad was none to happy about missing work. Fortunate there was an angry red-faced principle who did not know my dear father very well. Because about ten minutes into the meeting, I distinctly remember my Dad standing up and throwing the red faced little man into the wall and repeating the very same treatment that I received the previous day. I remember wondering if I had the same funny look of fear on my face. I never did have the nerve to ask my fellow-classmates. In fact, we never spoke of the event again, the red-faced principle, the trusting science and math teacher, my angry father, or the entire class of 1983. I think small towns are used to keeping secrets. I know we were in Canistota.

Well a year passed and in 1979 I was in 9th grade and moved away from the lovely town of Canistoda, never to return. I have thought of the event often, though not so fondly. I am sure the principle never did it again, people like that tend to learn their lessons. I know I did. I learned that South Dakota was not my favorite place on earth. I learned there was one good thing about having an angry violent father. And I learned, Canistota Educational System in the late 1970's was a violent place, just like my house. But like I said, I am sure that changed. I know I was, forever.

[davidgsy]

Thank God you've moved away to drain some other "lucky" state's mental health system.