For those who made the journey: North, South, East and West schools

Kregg Halstead

I have always thought that the lasting and enduring postage stamp of the Storm Lake public education system in the 1970s and 1980s, was its four elementary schools: North, South, East and West. From their balanced geographical locations around Storm Lake to their concise and straight-to-the-point names (no John A. Smith or Michael E. Jones Schools of Achievement or Excellence) but simply North, South, East and West, they had an almost perfect symmetry to them. And based on the extremely impressive scores on the Iowa Test of Basic Skills routinely achieved year after year and the sheer number of highly successful alumni, there is no disputing the esteemed and qualitative education they provided and gave to thousands of Storm Lake pupils.

That is not to say that competition did not exist between them (and think Boston Red Sox-New York Yankees or Ohio State Buckeyes-Michigan Wolverines types of fierce rivalries). I recall that I had only been at West a few days as a first-grader in the fall of 1972 when I heard for the first time the refrain that “East was a beast, North was fourth, South had a big mouth, and West was best.” And skipping ahead to later grades when we competed in the Grade School Track Meet and played flag football, softball and basketball against the other elementary schools, this was high stakes, extremely serious business. When my fifth grade West II Basketball Team went 4-0 in 1977 sweeping and even easily defeating each of the other three schools as well as West I, the boys in my class including myself were on top of the world (thank you Karen Carpenter for her “Top of the World” song which we listened to after we won). But then the next year in sixth grade after starting 3-0, but most unexpectedly losing in our last and final grade school basketball game at South (we were overconfident and they turned out to be a well-oiled machine of unity and and teamwork made up of Delbert Johnson, Dan Konradi, Ha Lo, Scott Strock, Kevin Richardson and Yonn Dierwechter), it seemed to the boys in my West II class not the top but the end of the world.

But this is not to say that many of us who made this journey don’t look back on them as the happiest of years. There was even a remarkable innocence to them that would be impossible to emulate or recreate in 2026. We had tornado drills. Kids today have active shooter drills. I counted in my mind and can remember that West had five separate entrances fully open to the public (and even two more if you count the fire escapes with their steps running down from the second floor). Unimaginable today. And we had milk to drink twice a day supplemented with all the water you could drink from the drinking fountains. No water bottles. No Gatorade. And of course, no gadgets. 

However on the other hand, perhaps it is a bit of a minor miracle that my classmates and I made it out alive and completed sixth grade as I remember in physical education such tort lawsuits waiting to happen (by today’s standards) activities as who could climb a rope to the top of the gym the fastest with only a small wrestling mat underneath. If you fell the 20 or 25 feet AND were lucky enough to actually land on the mat and bike races around the track at Bradfield Field which had no banking producing countless at best skinned knees and elbows from bad wipeouts and pileups. Additionally, the black top at West where we endlessly played “Pump” which entailed sprinting from one side to the other avoiding the other team along the way was asphalt with small crushed rocks which was also perfect for giving the most painful strawberries to anyone who fell.

Our teachers were incredibly dedicated, hardworking and wonderful, but my how the world was different. My parents likely talked briefly with my teacher each September at “Back to School Night” and then in March during parent-teacher conferences, but that was really it. And my teachers never got a text or WhatsApp message from my parents (that likely has both good and bad aspects for the educational process). 

Recess is probably what I remember the most. Kickball and how my good friend Ryan Rolhk (one year older and big for his age) could kick the ball to the moon and landing somewhere to the north of SL near Truesdale. And inspired by the original movies (by far the best) with Charlton Heston as Taylor, we used to play “Planet of the Apes” with the boys (likely rightly so) playing the apes with the girls imprisoned within the monkey bars starring as the humans. I had a pair of long black thick John Deere snowmobile gloves which were kind of similar to what General Urko wore (he was one bad dude ape if you saw the movies). So I always played Urko (but I was a softer, gentler Urko).

And finally, having reached the age of 60 this past October, I fully understand that life never stands still and evolution and change are indeed the rule if not the fundamental of life. Which of course should be welcomed as the next generation holds the promise of renewal and the bringing of a new day. But that written, I have to say that whenever I come back to Storm Lake and visit the area between Hyland Drive, West Sixth and Barton Street, I am always just a bit saddened that the West School that I attended from 1972 to 1978, where:

• I learned to read and write;

• memorized the multiplication table;

• where I cried after arriving home from day one in first grade telling my mom that “I don’t need this school thing”;

• made the decision as a result of going through the highly effective Berkley Heath Program (thank you Mr. Ritchie!) not to smoke; and

• rejoiced in President Carter’s ever so narrow victory walking to school with Ryan Rolhk and Matt Oatman (another friend) the unseasonably warm and sun-splashed morning after election night in 1976; is gone — is no more. All that are left are these memories and those of my fellow classmates who made this journey. But they are good memories. North was actually never fourth. South was engaging/expressive. East was dominant/dynamic. West was one of four bests.

Kregg Halstead graduated from Storm Lake High School in 1984. He enjoys sharing his cherished childhood memories of life in Storm Lake during the 1970s and 80s.