Mr. Barle and the Hearing Aid
By: David L. Norris
Topics: Arvin, 1960's, humor
Posted by Sloigo Tue Jan 22, 2008 11:59:51 PST
Viewed 532 times
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The summers at Arvin are forever unbearably hot. In the 1950’s the lawns at the DiGiorgio County Park were watered via flood irrigation and the kids would always watch the maintenance crew as they prepared each section of their lawn for watering. The water was usually only nine to twelve inches deep, but it was cool as you swam on your hands and knees, splashing and playing tag in the water, until it began soaking into the sandy soil. The maintenance tender would eventually chase you out, because you were messing up their wet grass and making a muddy mess.
Several times per year the parks and recreation would sponsor bus trips for afternoon swim outings where you could, for 75 cents, ride in a big yellow school bus, to the closest school swimming pool. This was at the Rio Bravo Elementary school, which is about 30 miles from Arvin on the southwest edge of Bakersfield. The DiGiorgio Ranch Labor Camp, about five miles north, also had a private swimming pool, mainly for their employees. My mother, Blanche Norris, taught me to swim at the DiGiorgio swimming pool.
In the spring of 1959, the Arvin community got its first swimming pool on the southeast corner of the park. They advertised the beginning of a Life Saving Class in the Arvin Tiller Newspaper prior to opening the pool. This course was mainly for the teachers from the Arvin High School P.E. Department, so that they could offer swimming in next years physical education classes. Now, I could not pass an opportunity like this, to get to use the new pool, several months before it formally opened, so I signed up for the class.
I was 14 years old, so they would only sign me up as a Junior Lifesaver, even though I was probably one of the strongest swimmers in the class. I was teamed with Mr. Frank Barle, who was the head of the Arvin High School Boy’s Physical Education Department. The Barle’s were family friends of ours, from whom we had gotten my Dachshund hound dog “Fritz”.
We were a perfect match, I weighed 115 pounds soaking wet, skinny as a rail, I had no body fat at all, and sank like a lead brick, right to the bottom of the pool. I was however; a very strong swimmer and I could swim two lengths of the new pool underwater on one breath. Mr. Barle was middle-aged and overweight. He probably weighed 200 pounds, but could float with the best of them. So when I had to tow him in a lifesaving tow from one end of the pool to the other, I was just pulling a barge, as he floated all the way.
Mr. Barle, on the other hand, at that time, was a poor swimmer and that is where my special talent came into play. I would hold by breath and he would tow me totally underwater the full length of the pool. I would see the water over my head, and hear a constant bluuup, bluuup, bluup, as the water and air swirled by my head after each arm stroke as Mr. Klinger, the instructor was hollering, “Frank!!! He has to have air sometime!!!!!”
We both successfully passed the course and the Arvin High School’s boy’s P.E. classes had a certified lifeguard, so they could include swimming in our curriculum. I fortunately did not ever have to use the lifesaving skills, but I did join the Arvin High School swimming team and lettered Varsity the first year.
The following year, 1960, was my freshman year at Arvin High School. This is when the radio manufacturers came out with small, seven transistors, AM radios that fit in the palm of your hand and took a 9 volt battery. They came with a real leather belt pouch and a single earpiece speaker bud. I got one for my birthday, right before the start of school and I wore it everyplace. When I dressed in the morning, I would drop the single earphone wire lead down my back, inside my shirt and then it was plugged into to the radio located on my belt at my right hip.
I concealed its presence by leaving my shirt un-tucked, covering the radio. Everyone knew it was there, because I was always fidgeting with the volume and channel knobs. Likewise, being the typical teenager, my response to anything, that anyone said to me was the standard “huh”? As I fiddled with the knobs to turn the volume down, so I could hear them.
I never gave it any thought, why none of the teachers ever bothered me about listening to my radio during class. But, hey! This was my freshman year at Arvin High School and my brother; Leo had told me everything was more relaxed in high school. Mr. Klinger, my previous instructor in the lifesaving course was now my math teacher in second period, as well as being one of the physical education teachers and coaches. Mr. Barle was now my PE instructor.
Mr. Klinger’s math class was one of my favorites. Not because other subject, nor the teacher, but he always allowed us extensive time to quietly do the math assignments in the class. The Arthur Godfrey’s Breakfast Club Show, “Broadcast LIVE from Honolulu, Hawaii” was on at that time and was always tuned in on my radio. I could intensely listen to the show, rather than try to hear what the Mr. Klinger was saying. I remember one morning it was during one of these quiet study sessions, someone on the Arthur Godfrey show told a real knee-slapping, belly-wrenching joke and I wildly broke out in laughter. Everybody turned and stared at me. Mr. Klinger peered over the papers that he was grading with a grim look.
Oh!! my Gawd!! Busted!!! I sunk down into my seat, took the ear bud out of my ear and held my breath and tried to become invisible. Several of the kids around me were trying to look over my shoulder to see what page I was on in the math book, thinking I had seen something funny in that dry-toast math book, so hey! Why not play along! I pointed to a four step math problem that we were working. Soon the whole class was studying that one problem, trying to see what I had seen so funny with it.
Finally, everyone just assumed I was the weird geeky kid that they had nick- named “the professor” because I carried all of my books in a briefcase at school. This was because I had lost the books several times off the back of my red Honda 55cc motorcycle getting to school. They finally shrugged their shoulders, writing my outburst off to my weird sense of humor and everyone returned to their own problem solving.
My mother sold Avon in the community and was over at the Barle’s house one afternoon selling her products to Mrs. Barle when Mr. Barle passed by and commented that he was so sorry that he had given me such a hard time in the lifesaving class, because he did not know I was hard-of-hearing. My mother said, “He’s not hard-of-hearing”. And Mr. Barle asked “then why is he wearing a hearing aid?” My mother said that’s not a hearing aid, that’s a transistor radio.”
It was not long after that, that the word got through the smoke-filled teachers lounge and I was greeted at the door to each class with a “good morning! And take that radio out of your ear!” I still miss getting to listen to the live broadcast of the Arthur Godfrey’s Breakfast Club direct from Honolulu, Hawaii each morning, but I probably learned more than I would have otherwise.
THE END
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