Wyoming Breezes

cast of the Bermuda Triangle play Wheatland High School Wheatland, WY approx. 1977 or 1978 Friday the 13th - a day based on superstition - seems to be an appropriate day to share memories about a play I directed in Wheatland, WY. I can't remember the exact title of the play, but it was a mystery on board a cruise ship as it travelled through the Bermuda Triangle . (Remember when that area was in the news all the time?) This was the first play I directed in the new theatre, and I remember selecting this script because it could be staged without a proscenium curtain, which wouldn't be installed for several months. The lacy screen in the set is actually the plastic rings that holds a six-pack of soda together. The rings were stapled together and spray-painted black. Looking at this cast photo, I can remember many of the students' names and wonder where their lives have taken them and if they remember performing on the Wheatland High School stage. stage setting on...

vintage advertisement Wheatland, WY circa 1978 Advertisement painted on the side of a building in downtown Wheatland, Wyoming in the late 1970s.  I wonder if it's still there?

the king addresses one of his subjects approx. 1978 Wheatland High School Wheatland, WY I loved teaching at Wheatland: the town and the students were welcoming. One of my assignments at WHS was the drama program, and I had some extremely talented students. The drama class not only acted in the numerous plays, but also designed, built and painted sets, created props, and designed and made costumes. One year we staged The Mouse that Roared , and instead of renting costumes, I asked my students to design and make costume prototypes, using Barbie and Ken dolls for models. The results were astounding (the boys actually did a better job than the girls at designing and sewing), and we made full-sized costumes from their designs. The king's costume in the photo is one example of their creations. The fabric for the costumes was salvaged: at the end of the old gymnasium was a stage, and in the storage area under the stage I found huge boxes that contained the old velvet stage curt...

Mary Kay Richard, Paula McDaniel, Susan Youtz Wheatland, WY approx. 1975 or 1976 This is one of my favorite photos from my six years in Wheatland - a photo with lots of details and emotions. It was taken the day that my good friend, Susan moved out of the little, white house she had shared with Mary Kay for several years. Mary Kay was a speech therapist and Susan was a physical education teacher in Wheatland. Paula (also a physical education teacher) was Susan's friend from Upton who visited often, and came to help Susan move to Newcastle. Susan and I often went to nearby Laramie Peak with Dan Brecht, a teacher who grew up in the Wheatland area and knew the back roads well. Dan often drove his little red pickup on our treks, and because it didn't have a radio, we sang belted out old songs for hours and challenged each other with Hink Pinks. We usually stopped for a picnic lunch at Esterbrook or visited Vick and Mary Ballard's ranch, sometimes bringing them supplies f...

"The Rock" Wheatland High School Wheatland, WY 1978 "The Rock" stood guard in the courtyard just outside my classroom, and I never knew from one day to the next what color it would be. Each year it grew in size until one summer it was sandblasted to remove the layers of paint added over the decades. "The Rock" was a large boulder the senior class emblazoned with its graduation year; that is, until another class or alumni slipped in under cover of darkness to stake their own claim to "The Rock." I admit to painting "The Rock" with a '69 one night before I left Wheatland. Did your school have a similar tradition?

I have fond memories of teaching in this old building Thomas Wolfe said, "You Can't Go Home Again" , but this week I tried. On my way to a Pulmonary Hypertension Support Group meeting in Cheyenne, WY, I planned a stopover in Wheatland , the location of my first real job and the beginning of my 33-year career in education. Ironically, as I drove down the eerily familiar streets, John Denver crooned on the radio, "Hey it's good to be back home again. . ." It truly was good to be back home again. I slowly drove by the places I had lived 36 years ago (just putting that is writing is daunting and makes me feel ancient) and pulled over briefly to snap photos. My first apartment was in the basement of an older home; the second, an apartment with a Murphy bed and steam radiators that made the doors swell shut in the winter. It was a good thing I was smaller in those days and able to squeeze through the windows. The small home (pictured above) was sha...