The Bride and Bonita....

It is a recurring theme as of late--multiple places to be and only one me.  If only I had a plane......or a personal pilot....or both!

My first year in Timber Lake I was assigned to teach a section of third grade.  The split was the result of a large class and I would be across the desk from 15 eager, anxious students each morning.   Changes in the district were common due to the remote nature of the town and I was lucky enough to be one of these new faces who had eagerly signed on the dotted line. I was so grateful to have gotten a position and get all of us moved to Timber Lake that I would have agreed to do just about anything. Well, not physics.  Physics would have been a huge stretch.  Think bigger than huge....that's the word I'm looking for. 

Timber Lake Schools (TLS) is a remarkable place.  Absolutely incredible folks fill the classrooms, kitchens, offices, buses, homes, and desks within the district. They are  humble humans--proud of their community, their facilities, and especially, their kids.  And they should be.  It was an honor to be on staff at TLS and we  met some of our closest friends and colleagues during our years there.  The school was often a starting point for many young teachers, so having a new third grade teacher was nothing new.  But there was also a changing of the guard in the principal's office.  And that, well that was a big deal. 

Mrs. Bonita Ehly had loyally served the district for many years.  First as a top notch English teacher and later as the elementary principal.  She was a force to be reckoned with--honestly, I was terrified of her after my initial interview that April.  My husband had been working there already and warned me she was no nonsense and that her staff and students knew what was expected from them .  She was in charge and if you didn't like it, well, tough.  Mrs. Ehly demanded respect, manners, and punctuality--from staff and students alike.  (  And often took a bad rap for demanding these things.....sigh.)  She loved beautiful clothing, jewelry, and fancy things.  Impeccably dressed and accessorized, she was a formidable face behind the principal's desk for staff and students.  You knew where you stood--AND  where you shouldn't be standing. 

As I was preparing my new classroom one warm August morning, I saw someone standing outside the door..  She seemed to be watching me through the window.  Once we made eye contact, she smiled and came through the closed door.  We had just moved in the day before, and both my house and this classroom were a mess.  I climbed over the boxes and said hello.  Immediately, I remembered who this lady was---it was the lady from my interview, Mrs. Ehly.  She extended her hand and welcomed me to the school.  We engaged in the small talk that strangers make when they don't know what they should be talking about--the weather, the move, how old were my children...all those mindless things that had nothing to do with this visit.  Finally, Mrs. Ehly broke the ice.  I will never forget what she said to me. "Mrs. Senftner, my granddaughter Kasidee is going to be in your class this year and I want you to know just how much I love her."  It was a powerful statement made by a powerful lady.  I think I stammered something about a Grandma's love and Mrs. Ehly continued, "Kasidee is going to drive you crazy some days, but she has a good heart and just needs some extra love and attention.  I want you to know how excited she is to be in your room and I want you to know I am too."  Honestly, I was truly taken back.  I had not gotten the vibe that Mrs. Ehly was that impressed with my interview back in April, so to hear this was a surprise. (Most coaches wives only get jobs because their married to "the coach" you know...I've heard this more than once and it's tough to swallow.) 

I assured Mrs. Ehly that, I too, was looking forward to the challenge of a new school and the students that would be mine this year. I told her I was looking forward to meeting Kasidee and her classmates.  She acknowledged the time I needed to prepare and said she didn't want to keep me, but wanted me to know her visit was purely personal--a grandma keeping watch on her precious granddaughter.  I imagined her newly found retirement was going to take some getting used to.  You don't spend a majority of your life "going to school"  each day and simply stop without some adjustment period.  The excitement of a new school year is forever ingrained in the minds of educators. The rest of the world sees January as the beginning of their new year while most teachers will look to August or September as the beginning of theirs.  I think Mrs. Ehly was both truly concerned about Kasidee and perhaps pondering the fact that this new year was marching on without her....

Kasidee came through the door that first morning with wide eyes and a big smile.  Her long legs carried a slight frame and she towered over most of the other third graders.  She had a sprinkling of freckles and the ever popular short bob haircut complete with a spirited pony tail and matching ribbon,  bouncing on top of her head.  There was an awkward grace about her---she had not yet grown into her arms and legs and I could tell without even having playground duty yet that she was athletic and busy.  (Mark has trained me to scout the playground for these types.... just kidding, but I was right.  She could run and jump! )  To say Kasidee found her desk and chair comfortable would be stretching the truth.n She loved school and her classmates, but the confines of the classroom were her nemesis.  As the year went on, we had a few rough patches--some friend "fights" and I had rules that this beautiful, spirited girl disagreed with (those difficult ones like writing your name on your paper and raising your hand to speak..ha ha)  but she was a joy to have in class.  She worked hard.  She played hard.  But most importantly, she loved deeply and wanted only to be accepted and loved by her friends.  Teachers are not supposed to  admit to having  favorite classes, but I must.  This group was one of my all time favorites. (I continue to hear from them via Facebook and I hope they know how special that is to this old Panther/Gorilla/Hornet, Charger.)  

Kasidee soared as she grew and matured.  Nana, as Kasidee called Mrs, Ehly, checked in with me occasionally.  She seemed to know where to draw the line between grandma and teacher, but loved hearing stories and quips of Kasidee's days.  Mrs. Ehly wore the title of Grandma as a badge of honor and she told me more than once how difficult it had been being both principal and Grandma to the four Traversie kids walking the halls.  I don't know this for sure as we never discussed that, but I think it was probably part of the reason she retired.....her role as a Grandma was entirely more important that any principal's desk. Those four children, along with her daughter Kellie and husband Melvin, were her world.  

Due to a change in administration late in the year, Mrs. Ehly's service was needed to fill in as principal. Of course, she stepped up and took on the role, although I did hear Mr. Seiler had to do a little begging...:)  I was hesitant and a bit nervous.  I had been moved to the sixth grade as they there was another large class needing split into two groups.  I was hoping I would be effective in this new role and hoping the new "old" principal and I would find common ground.  My concerns were unfounded.  Mrs. Ehly was amazing. I  heard from other teachers that she was different when she came back--a bit softer, a bit less worried about the little things, but still brought the same professionalism and polish to the job that was needed and appreciated.  She was supportive of her staff and behind her "tough" demeanor, she truly cared about kids.  She knew an education was needed to reach their potential and she knew when and how to push kids to be their best.  

Kasidee found success in athletics as she grew and matured.  Her class was talented and active and she was part of many great things that happened at TLS. Even though we had moved to Onida,  I was able to see her play a few ball games and every time, I recalled those long legs and bobbing pony tail walking into my room that August morning.  She proudly sported a Charger State Tourney shirt during the girls championship game in 2007 and cheered like crazy. That meant a lot to me.    She also went on to battle back from multiple knee surgeries and played basketball in college.  I know Nana was so proud of her......We received beautiful handwritten cards and letters from Mrs. Ehly after we moved.  Always positive or congratulatory, these cards were an extension of Mrs. Ehly's grace and love.  In an age of emails and texts, written notes are treasures and these certainly were. 

As I write this, Kasidee is preparing for her wedding tomorrow.  As soon as I heard the news that she was being married, I  thought of how much joy this event would have brought to her beloved Nana.  She would have enjoyed the preparation and planning--the dresses, the flowers, the decorations-- all would have brought much joy to her.  I envisioned her shopping for the perfect dress and the matching accessories.  I am sad that Mrs. Ehly is missing this beautiful day. While she is ever present in their hearts and minds, her physical presence will be missed tomorrow.  She met the modern day villain-cancer- and died on April 30, 2011 after a valiant battle.  I can only imagine how much she is missed by those that loved her most.  

I think if Mrs. Ehly were here today, she may have had a talk with the Julian, Kasidee's fiance. I think it would have gone similar to our first conversation.....  It probably would have  gone something like this....
 "Julian, Kasidee is going to drive you crazy some days, but she has a good heart and just needs some extra love and attention.  I want you to know how excited she is to be in your wife, and I want you to know I am excited for both of you." 

Kasidee and Julian--May you enjoy a beautiful day and may you feel the presence of those watching from above.  She is with you....always.  Love, "Mrs. Senftner" 
  

Carl and Buck

There are times I wish I could be two or three places at once.  Last month on a sunny April Saturday was one of these times. Currently, I’m a groupie on the Sully Buttes Class of 2016 “Farewell Tour” —something I would not miss for the world.  These days spent following Scott (and the 2011 Tour with Tate) will always be the best days of our lives.  This tour is slowing down, and I am sad.   Each event this year has been dutifully noted, sighed over, often times cried over, photographed, and will eventually be scrapbooked.  (Hey, a girl can dream can’t she?)  That particular Saturday, had I not been following Scott, I would have been in Winner.  I really wish it would have been possible to be in Winner.

High school activities played a huge role in my life.  I loved it all—music, sports, drama, journalism, student council, and being a Winner Warrior provided me with a vast wealth of experiences, friends, and memories.  My teachers, coaches, directors, and advisors during these days were people I greatly admired.   They were a close knit group and I often baby sat their beautiful babies when they gathered on Friday nights or traveled to out of town ball games.  (And now as an educator, I totally get the Friday night gatherings!)  I fully attribute my chosen career to many of these fine humans.  I admired them.  I wanted to be them.  And I would guess, without them even knowing it, they were a huge influence in my life.  Especially my track coaches Mr. Buckmiller and Mr. Carlson --affectionately known in area track circles  as “Buck” and “Carl”.( Just so they know, I could never call them Buck and Carl. Ever….) They will forever be Coach Buckmiller and Coach Carlson.  Always….

In my present state, I am sure the vision of me running and jumping is a stretch of the imagination for some, MOST of you.  Try to block that image out and just hang with me here because this is about two amazing coaches, not my “glory days”. (Which were not that glorious, but boy, were they fun.)  I was a decent track athlete and loved the sport.  Some of it came naturally for me—I had a little spring to my jump and found a home in the long jump pit.  I had some speed and that led me to the sprinting events, flights of low hurdles, and relays.  Track was a huge deal at WHS.  It was not uncommon to be stacked three to a seat in the old yellow, cheese box bus on meet days.  The bright gold, hooded sweatshirts screened boldly in deep purple with Winner Track on the front, were a popular look in town starting each year in March.  I loved being issued my track sweats---partially for the comfort, partially because it was cool to have a uniform, but mostly because I just loved track.  Being on the track team was big deal to me.  And I attribute that to the older athletes I admired and to the coaches running the program at the time—Coach Buckmiller and Coach Carlson.

I was a constant on the track team throughout my school career.  (I also continued to report each year for basketball—poor Coach Wanner and Coach Spicer.  I’m sure they dreamed of me hanging up my high tops and focusing only on cheerleading in the fall, but I was no quitter.  I loved being a Lady Warrior hoopster, too!)   In eighth grade, as with many younger female track athletes, I was allowed to run some high school meets.  They slipped us into individual events here and there to score points.  Being allowed to travel and interact with the high school kids was a new concept to the handful of us they hauled to the meets.  The sights and sounds of these trips are easily recalled in my mind each spring.  I just loved going to compete in track meets. 

There was a way to behave and compete at track meets and Coach Buckmiller demanded this from us. He was firm, but fair. Expectations were clear and goals were set for each meet.   It was not a day to throw Frisbees or lounge around in camp.  We didn’t have today’s fancy tents or gear, and if it was raining, they hauled the huge football jackets out and we pulled those on over our sweats.  We were there to represent our school and cheer each other on.  And if you weren’t running the mile relay, you best be standing somewhere around the oval cheering on your fellow Warriors who were running the finale.  We were a team and I loved that. 

Now I would be lying if I told you I loved the work behind the sport. The practices were intense, long, and often, gut wrenching----and I was a sprinter. I can’t imagine what those long distance folk were going through.  The infamous 100-200-300-400 climb and the descent back down 400-300-200-100, all set with a timed goal caused much grief and grumbling. (Imagine spending your afternoons listening to the collective whining from groups of teenage girls…)   I can assure you no Warrior boy trackster will forget the “4 Minute Mile” practice—usually held a few days before the regions.  This dreaded event involved running four, 400 meter races under 60 seconds. (The boys didn’t whine, they cursed…..and not always under their breath, which often led to another trip around the all-weather oval.)  But we were always in shape and ready for the season thanks to the two guys in the bleachers holding the stop watches.

On Tuesday I went to watch my favorite shot put/discus guy and his teammates compete for the Chargers.  My other favorite purple and gold team also attended this meet and there he was, my hurdle/track coach—Mr. Carlson.  Coach C. spent a lot of time turning me into a hurdler, and I will never forget his passion and praise for my successes or the times he wanted to rightfully choke me, but kept smiling.   He was a standout hurdler for Canton and went on to SDSU where he tore up the track and the NCC in his day.  I am not lying when I say I bet Coach could still run a flight of hurdles.   He looks just the same as he did when he was putting up with me all those years ago.  I’m happy for him as he gets the pleasure of coaching his grandson—another amazing athlete who I imagine looks just like Mr. Carlson did back in his C-Hawk days.  His oldest grandson winds down an amazing career at Augustana this spring and I know Coach Carlson relished the opportunity to watch him run the past five years.   I hope these current Warrior track athletes and their families appreciate what they have roaming their sidelines.  This man has unselfishly shared his time and talents for over 35 years with kids representing the 57580….To say it was wonderful to see Coach Carlson in action on Tuesday is an understatement.  When I was lucky enough to be coaching track in Timber Lake I would have kids running hurdles and I’d always want to take them to Winner to have Coach Carlson show them something or help them improve.  I did my best to help them, but knew he would have been just what they needed if only we lived closer.  And the best thing about this is I know he would have unselfishly helped them.  That’s who Coach Carlson is….a helper.

Last month, Coach Buckmiller was inducted into the Winner High School Hall of Fame.  He took his well deserved spot in the Hall joining Coach Carlson and others.  Coach Buckmiller was small in stature but loomed large in wisdom and integrity.  He spent his career making the Warriors a reputable track program.  There were titles won, expectations established, and facilities he over saw in his years at the helm of the Warriors.  One of my favorite stories was the time one of my treasured friends overslept on our way to a big meet.  Mr. Buckmiller drove the bus over to her house and Coach Carlson swiftly jumped out and ran up to the door to awaken our much needed relay girl.  As Coach C. was knocking on the door to their home, Coach Buckmiller sarcastically announced, “Can Diana come out and play?”  Those of us on the bus were not sure if we should laugh or not.  We knew he was annoyed.   As we waited, he made eye contact with some of us via the rearview mirror and we saw his small grin.  That was the sign—we could giggle.  And we did.  And we went on to have a great day on the track.   Coach Buckmiller’s quiet, serious demeanor was often misinterpreted by his athletes.  And certainly not appreciated until we were further down the roads we had chosen.  His planning, preparation, and personality were just we needed to be successful and I know most of never told him this….so I am doing it now.  Better late than never as they say…..Thank you Coach Buckmiller.

As I wind up my written ramblings, as a coach’s wife I would be remiss to ignore the lovely ladies that married these two special guys.  They spent track meet weekends alone at home with the children while these coaches spent time with everyone else’s kids.  Lucky for me I had the great pleasure of babysitting and teaching swimming lessons to both family’s beautiful kids so I got to know these fine women.  Melba and Becca—thank you.  Thank you for being THAT coach’s wife—the supportive ones who took care of things at home while the guys were off to meets all over the state. (or fishing….or golfing…)   If there was a Coach’s Wife Hall of Fame you’d be both be in the first class of honorees.

I’m sorry I missed both Coach Carlson’s and Coach Buckmiller’s Hall of Fame inductions.  There is only one person that would have kept me from attending…..and in fitting fashion he qualified for state that day in the shot put.  I think you would both approve.