17: Elementary School in San Diego

Painting of Doris (AKA Jonnie), my stepmother, painted by my father P. Frank Freeman, 1957-58. The automobile she is sitting in is a 1957 T-Bird

Growing up in San Diego was fantastic. I had many friends and girlfriends of all races and ethnicities. We would play dodgeball, kickball, and baseball in the street until the street lights came on. My favorites were Monopoly, Parcheesi, card games, and pick-up sticks. I learned to swim at the Boys Club of America, and living near a canyon edge, my friends and I would explore their depths and pick and bring home wildflowers for our mothers and the obligatory tadpoles. I had an ant farm and spent hours watching ants tunnel and build their home. However, my mother would not let me keep them in the house – I wonder why 😁.

My bedroom is on Guymon St. The shortwave radio next to the bed allows me to listen to radio stations around the world. I think the photo of the rearing horse is either the Lone Ranger or Hop-a-long Cassidy.

The ‘trail” of airplane photos hanging on the wall were planes that Convair built. I may have posted that entire set at one time. Speaking of antenna wires, I built one of those copper coil crystal radios with the copper antenna wire reaching the ceiling. I doubt if one were built today, it would work since everything is digital – although my old radios still do.

By the way, my wife was working in the garage one day when our granddaughter picked up an electronic device and asked, “What’s this?” The reply was, “It’s a radio.” I believe the plane hanging on the wall is an F-86 that my Uncle Bill (my father’s brother) built and gave to me.

Elementary schools (Chollas and Horton) in the 50s and early 60s were unlike today's. We could come to school early, gather playground equipment, and play on the grounds until the bell rang for classes to begin. We had a 15-minute recess in the mornings and a 15-minute recess in the afternoons with an hour for lunch. If we had time left after lunch, we could gather the playground equipment and play until the bell rang. Baseball, kickball, and tetherball were my favorite games. We could also stay after school and play with the equipment as long as our teacher was still there. But we had to return the equipment and go home when she left. Nevertheless, the school playgrounds were always open, and we could play on the grounds using our equipment.

Today, schools are locked tight, and children are not allowed to use the playground unless there are posted overseers. I doubt one would find the funds in today’s educational budget to make this happen 😟.

During the summer, my elementary school had activities for the neighborhood kids. Most of those activities included crafts such as paintings, ceramics, etc. Of course, we could always check out playground equipment for neighborhood baseball or kickball games. But Friday afternoons were my favorite, for we watched movies in the school auditorium for a dime. My favorites were “Heaven Knows, Mr. Allyson” starring Robert Mitchum and Debra Kerr, and “The Unforgiven” starring Audrey Hepburn and Burt Lancaster. Today, you would be hard-pressed to find schools that were so much a part of the community.

Heaven Knows Mr. Allyson:

The Unforgiven:

In 4th grade, after lunch, our teacher would read to us. I always looked forward to that part of the day. My favorite story was “The Boxcar Children” by Gertrude Chandler Warner. The story completely engaged me with the antics and survival of a close-knit family of children living in a train boxcar.

When I got promoted to 5th grade, I hoped to have Mr. Johnson as my teacher—he was the only male teacher besides Mr. Gordon, the principal. I was lucky; Mr. Johnson was my fifth-grade teacher. Fifth grade was memorable for two reasons.

On Fridays, after lunch, we had one heck of a math problem to solve. This math problem was written on a long, narrow sheet of butcher paper. These problem sheets were attached to the top of the blackboard, and when the clip holding the sheet was released, the problem cascaded to the bottom of the blackboard – a single math problem. Very seldom did any of us get it correct. One had to remember the order of operations.

I was voted to play Daniel Boone in the school play about Daniel Boone. I guess I was voted the part because of my name. I was so excited to play this part that when I got home, I plopped myself down on my bed and memorized all my lines that night. One of the more exciting aspects of playing the part of Daniel Boone was being able to handle Mr Johnson’s period black powder Kentucky rifle.

The play was a success, and I received many accolades for my performance.

Well, in 5th grade, I had my social problems, and like kids during that time, resolutions were usually settled on the playground with a fight. But back then, my father had said, “Don’t you ever start a fight, but if you get into one, I expect you to finish it.” The teacher usually resolved fights, but there was one time I was sent to the principal.

Sitting outside Mr. Gordon’s office, his secretary asked me, “What did you do this time, Daniel?” But before I could answer, I was called into the inner sanctum of the principal’s office—“Oh boy, I’m in for it now,” I thought.

Mr. Gordon said, “Daniel, if you get into one more fight, I will have to call your parents and suspend you from school for the week.” Oh my God, not my parents; my dad would “kill me.” So, with that reprimand, I behaved like I would for the rest of my elementary school days.

During my 5th-grade year, my father began looking for a place to build his own home instead of renting one side of the duplex in Glenncliff. His search for suitable land to build his home first took him to La Jolla, but because he was Black, people wouldn’t sell to him. I will write about this aspect in my next episode about Redlining.

Towards the end of summer, between 5th and 6th grade, we moved into our new home at 5217 Roswell St. I really enjoyed 6th grade, and my favorite activity of all time in elementary school was 6th-grade camp.

We in San Diego had the opportunity to attend camp for a week in the mountains—the cost was $45.00 ($487.88in 2024 dollars.) My class attended Camp Marston. If I remember correctly, most of these camps were former CCC camps, but Marston was a YMCA camp. We lived in cabins, did craftwork, hiked at night, studied nature, and cut trails, to name some activities. By the way, each cabin was assigned specific duties on a rotating basis to keep the camp, kitchen, and dining room clean.

One last thing about growing up in Glencliff. I took up playing the accordion- mainly because the young girl living next door to me was learning how to play. We would practice together. Unfortunately, she and her family moved during the summer of 1960, I never saw her again. However, she kept in contact with my mother – I found her high school photo and a beach photo a few years ago in some of my mother’s correspondence.

Anyway, I kept up my accordion practices even though I had to give up my lessons. My family didn’t want my music instructor to climb the hill to our new house. Later, I learned there was an accordion lesson studio on Federal Blvd just east of 47th Street. I would ride my bike to the studio to continue my lessons. Today, I still have that accordion that cost my father $120.00 ($1,301.00 in 2024 ). Very expensive in those days, the cost was based upon the number of cords the accordion had – in my case 120 cords. The cords are the push buttons on the left side of the accordion.

Episode # Redlining and building the family home at 5217 Roswell St (Part 1)