Country Kids

Earlier in the week, I saw this recent picture of Carl and Martha Beeler's kids on Facebook (from left -- Rosemary, Moe, Resa, Phillip, Margy, Tom, and Joanie). I swear those Beelers never change and they are all just as cute as ever. Even though they were “country” kids, I've known them for as long as I can remember -- at least 45 years now. Tommy Beeler sat at my table in Kindergarten. Seeing their photo reminded me of a couple of funny stories from when we were growing up. 

It was sometime during grade school that I was invited to a boy/girl party at the Beeler farm in honor of Tom’s birthday. I remember that Martha, and I believe Rosemary and Joanie, were trying to corral all of us. It was mid-March and the spring thaw was underway so there was mud everywhere. After we had cake, they sent us outside (I’m sure Martha was relieved to get us out of the house). All the girls at the party immediately proceeded to pile up together on the porch swing and the chains gave away, tumping us all on the ground. After that, all hell broke loose with girls chasing boys, boys chasing girls, people having cooties, and everyone running amok all over the farm. Being the “city” girl that I was, I didn’t realize that when I fell into the pig pen that the brown stuff in there wasn’t just mud. I proceeded to run through it. Many times. They had to call Mom to come and get me and I was lucky that she let me ride in the car on the way back to town.

In 1977 when I was in 8th grade I volunteered, along with my friends, Pam and Sherri, to be a school cafeteria helper. This meant that every day we got to go over to the high school side of the cafeteria and help serve lunch. That's when we met high school senior, Maurice “Moe” Beeler.  Moe would come through the line and flirt with us. I thought he liked us but he really just wanted extra mashed potatoes and dessert (obviously he was cute AND smart). Pam and I had a major crush on Moe as did probably most of the girls in the school. After all, he was a mysterious older man and he was tall, dark, and handsome.

One day there was quite a commotion in the lunch line and it turned out that Moe was giving away wallet-sized senior pictures. By the time he made his way through the line and got up to the counter, he only had one picture left. He flashed his last senior picture in front of us, and held it there just long enough for us to admire his adorable sideburns and blue leisure suit. Pam and I both asked for the picture, begged for it, while he tantalizingly waved it back and forth in front of us. And then… he… gave it to…PAM! I was crushed. I begged her to give it to me, but she said there was no way she would ever part with that picture.

Moe Beeler's Senior Picture

Later that day, Pam and I walked Sherri home and then the two us continued on to the other side of town. We stopped at Mizera’s Market. Pam didn’t have any money on her and I selfishly bought a Hostess Apple Pie for .30 cents. It was fresh off the truck and the Hostess delivery man had just put it on the shelf. It turns out that Pam was really hungry. As we were walking down Main Street toward home, I told Pam I would trade the Hostess Apple Pie for Moe’s picture. She thought about it. Nope, no way would she do that. I crinkled the package, um-ummm, look at this nice fresh apple pie. No, she would not part with that picture. I opened the corner of the package and waved it under her nose hoping that the aroma of all that wholesome apple pie goodness would influence her. And boom, it did. It got to her. She caved. By the time we got to Convery’s corner, I was holding Moe Beeler in my hand.

And that’s the story of how I got Moe Beeler’s last senior picture. To this day, almost forty years later, when Moe sees Pam and me together, he always tells us that he can’t believe that he’s worth less than a Hostess Apple Pie.

I kept the picture on my bulletin board in my room for a few years. In fact, I still have it somewhere, but in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I could not locate the original for this week’s blog. A special thanks goes to Terri Lanter Olack for working some magic and sending me a yearbook copy.