Glorious Guilt

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My father and a group of friends, all sons of immigrants, (literally) ditched school for about three years from 1920 - 1923 in Kenosha, WI. When finally they were caught, they all cried bitterly, but within a few months, they had all learned English and acclimated to the challenges of the schoolroom and the schoolyard...

On the side of a path branching off from the road expectations of glorious guilt mount makeshift trenches housing truants, anxiously counting the seconds 'til school officers call off the hunt... Free at last at 9:30 to pursue puerile passions constructing lean-tos in trees, small campsites nearby They'd burn down the bush in a heartbeat if only their consciences would forget how to sigh

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Kim Rodrigues

Date: 7/14/2023 8:17:00 AM

Wow! Interesting story! Tom Sawyers and Huckleberry Finns!

Gershon Wolf
Date: 7/15/2023 9:06:00 PM

Yup. All those kids needed were toothpicks and straw hats. Oops, How about a Mississippi River thrown in for good luck! Wink, wink, Gershon

Vickey Rhymer

Date: 7/11/2023 1:02:00 AM

Glorius guilt,my bread and butter.Hey Gershon I was right there along on their misadventures .Enjoyed Bookoos.

Gershon Wolf
Date: 7/15/2023 9:06:00 PM

Vicky, you must have had your pick of boys. There were about ten of them or so, my father said...