The most embarrassing outhouse
experience I had occurred when I was twelve years old. I was attending a little
one-room rural school, where outhouses for boys and girls were discreetly
erected some distance from each other, and also from the schoolhouse. It was
during the noon recess. The students decided to play hide-and-seek. I had to
pay a visit to the outhouse and my best friend, Louise, slipped in to hide in
there. She watched through a crack while the boy who was "it"
counted. When she saw her chance to get to base without getting caught, she
flung the door wide and ran as fast as she could! Well, Louise happily made it
to base without getting caught, but there I sat, on the throne, in full view of
everybody. My skirt was not long enough to cover my bloomers, and I could not
get up to close the door without exposing even more. All I could do was sit
there, mortified, while all of the kids stared, and then went into hysterical
fits of laughter. The girls doubled over from laughing so hard, and the boys
rolled on the ground.
Finally, after what seemed like a
century, Louise 'came back, slammed the door quickly, and beat a hasty retreat
before I could get my clothes rearranged and take after her. I wonder why I was
the only one who was not amused?
Back in 1955 a call
went out from the editors of the then
Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true
pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their
children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers,
all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made
to create a book, and in 1956, the first
Folks title –
My Folks Came in a
Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine
other books have since been published in the
My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to
make those stories available to our growing online community.