Red Pepper Initiation Banned? How Sad!!

Outgoing 1962 Red Pepper Officer
 and new 1963 Officers - First Row: 
Shirley Adams, Patsy McWilliams, 
Cassandra Corley, Rosie Litchford,
and Marsha Gibson

It was regrettable to hear the Sikeston Public School Board banned the Red Pepper Initiation a few years ago.  It was part of the school culture and was a tradition that girls looked forward to their Freshman year of high school.  I never heard of anyone harmed, or of any violence as part of the Red Pepper Initiation Day.  You were not required to join the Red Peppers, but for those who did join, initiation was considered a privilege.  It was worth one day of silliness.

First, you had to memorize the following songs.  Then you had to sing them to the satisfaction of the Red Peppers grading you for acceptance.

               All three verses of the “Red and Black.

All three verses of “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

There were a few other things that I have forgotten in fifty-five years, but these were the two biggies.

The INITIATION DAY was always on a Friday.  Green Peppers were required to have a Red Pepper sponsor to lead you through the day.  I remember I had to pull my sponsor in a red wagon where ever she wanted to go.  We were required to wear ridiculous costumes all day, even to classes.  Any Red Pepper could tell us to do something, and we had to do it.  It was done in fun and very few, if anyone, felt dehumanized.  It was fun for everyone, and it was required to be a cool RED PEPPER.  I remember two more things we were expected to do, even on the school grounds.  In talking with my friend and classmate Millie Bennett Nauman by telephone recently, and we recalled the following:

The First Requirement:  We had to drop to the ground when they said: “HIME is coming.” Then we had to put our noses to the ground so we could not see HIME.  Green Peppers were not worthy of seeing HIME before we became full Red Peppers.

The Second Requirement:  When asked by a Red Pepper, “Who is the Greenest Green Pepper?”  We had to respond with the following.  Millie reminded me that we also had to get down on our knees while citing this, and we had to turn in circles.  The proper response was -

Of all the Green Peppers Ever So Green

I am the Greenest pepper you have ever seen.

Then, when the school bell rang for school dismissal, all the green Peppers gathered in front of the “old” high school and waited for their sponsors.  We offered our sponsor a ride to the park in front of the business section, in the middle of town.  There, everyone enjoyed a big celebration and final initiation tricks.  Some green Peppers had eggs crushed on their heads, some had honey poured over their heads, then cornflakes smashed into the honey.  I was lucky.  I just had orange juice poured over my head, in addition to wearing a green Pepper all day, I also had to wear an orange around my neck.  It was not until that moment in the park that I understood why I had to wear the orange.  If my sponsor told me to eat either, or both, then I ate it.  At the end of that day, the green Peppers looked a mess, and they were tired. 

Then, the Red Pepper President blew her whistle signaling the conclusion.  Initiation was over, and inclusion began.  There were hugs, cheers, and congratulations.  We made the cut!  Most young ladies considered it fun and worth every moment of that day to become RED Peppers for three years.  Some may call this hazing, I call it character building.  Things given without effort is never appreciated as much as things earned.  

Gone, but not forgotten!

Dieting For My Reunion?

Margaret Cline -1962

Oh, what a difference 55 years can make in our appearance.  Today, my skin no longer fits my body properly, I have a big gap in my front teeth caused from TMJ, my waistline is much wider, my feet were crippled from a botched foot surgery in 2014, and I don't even want to talk about my arms or neck!   None of that bothers me, but the one new thing that does bother me is arthritis.  I no longer stand tall and straight but stand stooped, like an old person. However, most of the time, I still think youthful thoughts, much like I did in 1962.  In the end, our mind is the most important element in our bodies.  Especially its capacity to remember.  

Margaret Cline Harmon
2017

I look forward to attending my SHS's 55th Class Reunion next week in Sikeston, Missouri.  Labor Day, I gave serious thought of starting a diet to look better for the event. Then I realized it is impossible to lose thirty pounds in four weeks, so I forgot about it.  The Class of 1962 will share many memories when we meet.  None of us will see as well as we did when we graduated from the NEW Sikeston High School.  We can not hear as well as we did back then, and we will all be carrying more weight than in our high school days.  

All of our children are grown, and we have grandchildren, and a few have great-grandchildren.  Our formative careers have now ended.  The reason most of us will attend the reunion is for the shared memories of the time we were relatively worried free.  We can all remember when our bodies functioned perfectly and looked much better than they do now.   Most of us return to our class reunions to visit with our classmates, and recalling their personalities in 1962.  When talking to a classmate, it is common to see the other person as we saw them in high school.  We recall working together in different clubs, in the band, in sports, and in the choir.  The memory of getting up early to be at marching band practice at 7:00 AM  and after school club meetings are strong.  We have collective memories of fun, silliness, and serious moments together as a class, and individually.  

People return to various types of reunions for the feeling of inclusion, and the feelings and memories a place and people produce.  We remember the Bulldog Inn, the Cotton Gin and its smell, the Cow Bell, the Dunn Hotel, the Gay 90's Village, Kirby's hamburgers, the Malone Theater (when it was downtown), Nancy's Sweet Shop, SHS Championship Football, the Skating Rink, Wag's, Woolworths, and much more.  We even remember when Elvis performed at the Armory in Sikeston, not once, but twice.

Elvis Presley - 1955

This year, we will also mourn the loss of classmates - Bob Depro, Joan Happe, Nellie Karnes, Lonnie Dickie, and Phillip Payne.  Like life, this reunion will be filled with joys, fun, and sadness.  It is a time to appreciate each classmate for who they were, and who they have become.  I pray each returning member of the Sikeston High School Class of 1962 arrive safely, and that they return home with a spring in their step and humming "The Red and the Black."  Go Sikeston Bulldogs!   

Neatness is for sissies!

Curtis H. Cline with his Boys Sunday School Class.  He
loved these boys and stayed in touch with two of them
for over twenty years.  He was a man of great faith.

Curtis Henry Cline had a good heart.  He was a good Christian who tithed his entire adult life.  However, he was a bit rough around the edges in some areas.  His Grandma Kline taught her grandchildren manners, how to dress properly, and how to speak proper English.  Somewhere along the way, my Dad failed to grasp the lessons on neatness and how to dress.  He sometimes exasperated my Mother and my Aunt Grace with his failure to clean up after himself in the house.  He would wash his hands in the sink and just walk away without drying the sink.   Nor would he hang the towel on the rack after he dried his hands, he just left it on the sink or vanity and walked away.

The photo above shows that he wore the right clothes to attend church, but he could not be bothered adjusting his

collar or centering his tie.  Curtis never took time to look in the mirror to see if he was dressed suitably. He was a man with a mission, and neatness was a very low priority.  He purchased a good quality of work clothes from Buckner-Ragsdale on Main Street. The pants and shirts were an olive green.  He did not want to think about what to wear when he got up, so a standard uniform suited him perfectly.

My Dad just chose to do things his way,  but when it was necessary, he knew how to conform to society 's rules to please the women in his life.  The most important thing he did for his children was to give them unconditional love.  It is a character that is priceless.  He was rough around the edges, yet this world would be a better place with more people with like my Dad.  He was a man of love, compassion for those less fortunate, and a man who believed his word was his bond.  Curtis Cline was a man of integrity.

The Cline Home in Morehouse, MO - 1890-1926 - Part 3 of 3

March 5, 1926, was a day of panic, of fear, and of despair for my father's family.  The news clipping tells of the loss of both their home and its contents.  Several people tried to enter the house and save the contents but the only things they saved were two chairs.  The heat and smoke from the fire were just too great to return for more.  

Fortunately, the older children had married and moved to their own homes.  It is for this reason that we have over three dozen or so photographs taken of the home and some of the people gathered there before the fire.  My Aunt Eula Cline Goolsby inherited a ruby ring, other jewelry and special items that she took with her when she married.  My Aunt Grace Cline Dye inherited a large jewelry collection of fine jewelry that was also taken from the house before it burned, letters and a few things of historical value, but everyone expected to take more items in the future.  None of the family expected to lose the house in such a tragic manner.  The second son, Ed Cline, also had items from the home.

Pictured to the right, is a photo of one of the two parlor chairs that were saved. They were high fashion in 1890 when the

One of two parlor chairs
saved from Cline Home 

house was finished and furniture was selected for the home.  My Dad once told me he thought the furniture came down the Mississippi River from either St. Louis, or from Louisville, down the Ohio River to the Mississippi, and to New Madrid.  There, it would have been transferred to a train and shipped to Morehouse.  This is one of the few tangible items we have from dad's childhood home.  My cousin Sam Goolsby said he didn't think his mother ever got over the loss of her childhood home.  The entire family that once lived and enjoyed their lives within the Cline Home that once stood in Morehouse are now dead.  Other than a few photographs, the two chairs, and my father's memories recorded by me, the history of this home is gone.  When my generation is gone the only knowledge of the home is what people might read about it.  I am glad I was able to walk on the ground where it once stood and listen to my father's memories.  Today, the house gone, but not forgotten.