Organized Activities

Cub Scouts

I was in the Cub Scouts for a few years and eventually became a Boy Scout. I never had a Cub Scout uniform; just a shirt, necktie, and cap. I never gave it a second thought because it wasn’t all that unusual in those days. We met at the Den Mother’s house on South Nice Street.

One memory that stands out was a competition. Every Cub Scout was asked to put a model train together and they would be judged on accuracy, workmanship, and completeness. There was an event scheduled for us and our parents at the church that sponsored us.

I went to the local department store and bought a wooden engine and coal car. I assembled it and painted it as best I could. The night of the competition I went with a friend and his parents. I don’t remember if my father was out of town or not but in either event, neither of my parents were going to attend. Neither of them had the time or inclination to be "actively involved" in any of the things I participated in. This was pretty normal so it didn’t bother me much.

The judging took place over the course of the evening. There were some very elaborate models that were obviously required help from someone. Still, my little engine stood up there with them all and I didn’t feel slighted in the least. I actually was kind of proud of what I did by myself. Finally it was time to announce the winners. Tension built as one by one praise was given to the quality of the models as each winner was announced. This is I do recall: mine was the last to be recognized by the announcement "and now, last but not least, Glenn Heckard."

Boy Scouts

I became a Boy Scout and Scotty Bradbury, the father of one of my classmates, was the Scout Master. We met in the basement of the church at the corner of Frack and Nice Street. I think it was the Reformed Church.

I was a Tenderfoot and tried earning merit badges to get to a higher rank. I think I advanced a Second Class Scout by the time I stopped going. I didn’t earn a lot of merit badges but I really enjoyed being a member.

I recall several camping trips we took. Some were just day trips out to the area near Mud Run Dam. We would hike for a while and then stop to build a campfire. On occasion we would pitch tents and camp overnight. I remember hiking down along the road to St. Clair, a town about 4 miles south of town. We didn’t go that far but it was an adventure. The road between the towns was two lanes each way and in some spots divided by a significant distance. At least in my eyes it was significant. Now that I look back at the area it wasn’t far between the roads—maybe three hundred yards.

We marched down a hill off the road and made camp in the early afternoon. We pitched tents and dug a trench around each tent to direct any rain water away from them. It did rain that night but we still got a little soaked.

Every year there was a week-long event called a Camporee. My father was able to drive me there but was not available to pick me up. Arrangements were made for me to ride back with another scout’s family. My father was not an outdoors person. We didn’t camp, picnic, or even walk in the woods. Everything I learned about camping was through experiencing it with others. He was sure to tell one of the leaders to watch out for me because I was a "greenhorn" which was quite the embarrassment for me.

We also visited a Scout Camp near Blue Mountain. We swam in a big lake and had a lot of outdoor events scheduled. They had cabins so we didn’t pitch tents. Each cabin could sleep about 6 to 8 people. I think they may have been open on one end.

Two things stand out from that trip. One was a scout found another scout with some cigarettes. He was forced to eat some and he got sicker than a dog. They had to take him to get his stomach pumped.

The second memory had to do with initiation for first-year campers. There was this long trough with a lot of spigots for washing up in the morning. First-year scouts were stripped naked, put in the trough, watered down, soaped up, and slid from one end of the trough to the other.

Methodist Youth Fellowship

I belonged to the Methodist Youth Fellowship (MYF) along with other classmates that went to our church. One day a week during the school year we walked two and a half blocks from the high school to our church on Balliet Street for religious instruction.

It was there that we were introduced to male and female sexuality. Wow, actual drawings of our private parts. Cool! It wasn’t easy to come by pictures in those days so that’s where we gained some knowledge about each other’s body. My parents never said a word to us about this topic. At least not until prom night. My mother mentioned something about being careful in the back seat of the car with my girl friend. It’s a blur now and was then because I just wanted to get out of the house.

Another thing we did once a month was travel to nearby towns to meet other MYF kids and participate in a planned event. Up until this time I only knew girls from Frackville. One of the events was a trip to a roller skating rink. I met a girl there and we skated together quite a bit. I can’t remember what her name was or where she was from. I do remember looking forward to seeing her each time we visited the rink.

Baseball Team

We played a lot of unorganized sports just for fun. We played tackle football in a vacant lot on the corner of Second and Chestnut Streets. It wasn’t until I was in high school that someone built a small apartment building on that lot. We also played baseball at the "tennis courts" and at the field at the bottom of Second and Third Street. We played a lot of catch in the street.

Then, there was the high school baseball team. I participated for three years but I didn’t play much. I was a left-handed pitcher and since I was the only left-hander, I’m pretty certain that’s why I made the team. I wasn’t a good batter but it may have had something to do with not getting any batting practice. I was sent to the outfield to shag fly balls during batting practice. I say that now because I was a first baseman on the Navy softball team and I had one of the highest batting averages. OK, maybe it was because the ball is bigger, but it was fast pitch!

We had these really hot, wool uniforms. My uniform was so baggy it felt like I could blow away in a strong wind. My guess is since I wasn’t very good that I had last pick of the uniforms but I really don’t recall. We also had to buy our own shoes which were not comfortable at all.

I enjoyed being on the team and riding a school bus for out-of-town games. We didn’t have school buses because we all walked to school. I lived only a block from the high school and it was only five blocks to the ball field at the north end of Memorial Park.

I earned a letter each year pitching in relief but I didn’t start a game until my senior year. I had to start a game or I wouldn’t get a sweater. My parents had not attended any home games but when my father found out I was starting the game against Girardville he came but didn’t tell me. I pitched well enough to win the game but in all fairness, they were the worst team in the league that year. I remember coming to the bench after the fifth inning and I was red and kind of frothing at the mouth. My friend Ray said" Take it easy, you’re winning." I batted that inning and struck out. I didn’t go back in for the last inning. The best part about it is my Dad enjoyed the game (Thank goodness he couldn’t see up close how I was struggling).

I was not a good pitcher but I was left handed! However, I had a perfect record of 1 win and no losses in the only game I started. That earned my senior letter and sweater. Phew! 

1958 FHS Baseball Team: Baseball season always occurred too late for pictures to be included in the yearbook. All other sports had pictures. I found this newspaper article depicting the 1958 baseball squad published in May 1958.