“Beautiful Nebraska, peaceful prairie land,
Laced with many rivers and the hills of sand;
Dark green valleys cradled in the earth.
Rain and sunshine bring abundant birth.
Beautiful Nebraska, as you look around,
You will find a rainbow reaching to the ground;
All these wonders by the Master’s hand;
Beautiful Nebraska land.”
Lyrics by Jim Fras.
Adopted as the official Nebraska State Song by the Nebraska Legislature in 1967.
Nebraska’s educators began teaching this song to their fourth graders that year.
The year of the Nebraska Centennial.
I was in the second grade at Malcolm Public Schools located a few miles northwest of Lincoln.
Our teacher, Mrs. Fern Westfall, taught us this song:
“My Nebraska, dear Nebraska, state I love the best!
Where Pioneers first broke the land and made it the very best.
And while the sun shine’s hot in summer and cold winter winds may blow.
It’s always fair weather, in Nebraska where real folks grow!”
I must share that it was during Nebraska’s Centennial celebration that I developed a rebellious attitude.
I have no idea why.
I know it wasn’t because I was a sod busting pioneer.
Maybe it was my self-developed illness known as playgrounditis.
Yes, like Ronald Reagan and Paul Harvey, I can make up words.
The playground was located north of the school, well hidden from my classroom’s western view.
I took full advantage of the fact Mrs. Westfall couldn’t see through walls.
I began coming in late from recesses and lunch periods. My easily curable illness of flying as high as I could in the swings with other rebellious classmates lasted until Mrs. Westfall arrived and retrieved her wayward students back to the classroom.
My newfound independence came to a head on March 1, 1967.
The Malcolm Public Schools was celebrating Nebraska’s Centennial, and students were allowed to come to school dressed as Pioneers.
Following a ceremony in the gym, I high tailed it to the playground where I remained until late in the school day. After dragging me indoors, Mrs. Westfall made me stand in front of the class and explain why I ignored the bell. If I didn’t provide an explanation, I would be sent to the principal’s office, which meant a sure spanking from Mr. Leonard Melichar. He had recently warned me my bell ignoring practices wouldn’t be tolerated much longer.
I finally blurted out that I hadn’t heard the bell and broke into tears.
If little lies are considered white, then this one was the darkest shade of black.
But I wasn’t about to plead guilty to insubordination.
Mrs. Westfall then handed down her sentence. She announced to the entire second-grade class that she could no longer trust me and that I had become nothing but a huge disappointment.
I would rather have had her whip me than tell the whole class I was no longer trustworthy.
However, her blatant honesty worked.
I eventually became an obedient and respectful student, not only for the remainder of second grade, but for all my school years that followed. I had decided school offered too many enjoyable opportunities to miss out on. Had Mrs. Westfall not shamed me in front of my peers by calling me untrustworthy, I don’t know what type of student – or person – I would have become.
While an individual could write a small novel detailing the many times Mrs. Westfall had to discipline me, there was also one instance during the second- grade when she stepped in to provide great comfort.
I was screwing around walking in the aisles between our desks one afternoon when I stumbled over one of my classmate’s feet. I landed headfirst on the corner of a desk, suffering a gash above my right eye.
Mrs. Westfall proved she was quite competent as an emergency medic by applying dozens of tissues to my head and then escorting me to the school nurse.
Mrs. Westfall would go on to educate children for several more years. She had two tenures in Malcolm, first teaching between the years 1929 and 1934. She then left and taught at a variety of schools before returning to Malcolm in 1956. Mrs. Westfall continued teaching in Malcolm until her retirement in 1976. When a new elementary school was built just north of Malcolm in 1981, it was appropriately named Fern Westfall Elementary. Mrs. Westfall passed away on June 2, 1996, and is buried at Lincoln Memorial Park, the same cemetery where my mother’s parents are at eternal rest.
Each year on March 1 when Nebraska celebrates another birthday, I do not think of the Cornhuskers, or Lake McConaughy, or the Sandhills, or the Platte River, or the sugar beet fields, or corn harvest, or the State Capitol.
I remember my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Fern Westfall.
Who, on Statehood Day, March 1, 1967, set me straight in her own beautiful Nebraska way.