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Sunday was a big day in Evans, the town I grew up in, and I missed it. The event was a picnic for everyone who ever attended Evans Junior-Senior High School, which was closed by school consolidation in 1965.
In case you're wondering, Evans is just south of Greeley, a city which is currently known for prosecuting couples who live in sin. Later this month it will be known as the site of the Broncos' summer camp. Then Greeley will go back to being known for its feedlot aromas.
Although small, impoverished school districts are scorned by professional educators, my memories of Evans reveal a rather enlightening education.
Many of our textbooks were so old that they referred to
World War I as the Great War,
the war to end all
wars,
and the war to make the world safe for
democracy.
Almost daily, our teachers stressed the increasing threats from expanding global Communism, so we knew the world had not been made safe for democracy. Most of us had fathers who fought in World War II or Korea, so we knew that the war to end all wars hadn't ended wars at all.
We thereby learned not to trust textbooks, nor the eminent statesmen who were quoted in the texts saying things that sounded sensible in 1937 but ludicrous in 1962. Other instructional materials weren't much better at the task of producing good, trusting citizens.
When we studied Asia in the eighth grade, we saw the most recent movie the school could afford -- a World War II propaganda film in which the Chinese were noble, hard-working people, while the Japanese were barbaric fiends. By 1964, of course, we were supposed to believe that the Chinese were bloodthirsty invaders and that the Japanese were peace-loving friends of democracy.
Thus we learned that, as far as governments are concerned, truth is not an absolute value, but a matter of convenience.
One year, we were encouraged to cheer and support the Evans Rams for the pride and honor of our community. The next year, there weren't any Evans Rams; we were supposed to instantly transfer those passionate loyalties to the Greeley West Spartans. Some of us instead decided that school spirit was hogwash.
It's probably just as well that I didn't go to the picnic, for I would have been embarrassed again. Twice I had a chance to bring honor and glory to Evans -- I went to the state spelling bee in 1963 and again in 1964. Both times I was advised that I could put Evans on the map, that the whole town would be watching the televised final rounds to cheer me on.
I never got past the written test in Denver, so I wasn't on TV. I let Evans down, and Evans gave me a better education than I ever would have received in a district that could afford modern instructional materials.
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