The Pioneer Club
When I was a child, my favorite time of day was after school. In the fourth grade, five of us formed a club, which we called “The Pioneer Club.”
DeeDee had a chicken coop in her backyard, which we adopted as our clubhouse. Some of the fathers helped us paint it and we furnished it with whatever hand-me-downs we could accumulate. Among them were an old Victrola which some neighbor put out for the trash, a bunch of school supplies which we hoped were not missed by Bradford School, and a Navajo rug which came from my house, much to my mother’s dismay when she discovered it. “The Pioneers” had a club song, which we continue to sing 70 years later — usually when we’ve had a tad too much wine.
We organized a garage sale before such things were commonplace and decided to give the proceeds to CARE. My Mom agreed to match whatever we made not really expecting us to clear $50, which was a lot of money in 1950!
We also appeared on TV when the show we were attending noticed five little girls in the audience in matching uniforms — white shirts with crossed hatchets on the pocket. It was another opportunity to sing our song.
Our last opportunity to gather was at our 60th high school reunion, when four of the original five were present.