The Apparatus Room

Mrs. Darlene Valum lives at the same assisted living facility that my mom lived in. During my years at Bellingham High School she was the girls’ PE and Health teacher as well as the Cheerleader advisor. Today as I pass her in the hallway, I turn my head and hide my face in fear that she will recognize me even though I know that after 50 years the statute of limitations has lifted and there is no chance she could go back and change my grades. 

17-year-old boys turning 18, (great- now I am humming “I am 16 going on 17” from the Sound of Music), the years that boys turn their hormones into muscles. Lunch time at BHS was competition time. One whole hour to bulk up and prove who is the strongest and most agile.  Pull ups, pushups, rope climbing, peg boards, all useful in forming the large peck and bicep muscles. This was not only meant to impress the girls but to say to the other guys, “I’m better than you.” 

Above the gymnasium floor, on the second level of the bleacher seats was a large room used by the wrestlers and gymnasts called the Apparatus Room. This room had two outside entrances. One designated for the girls and one for the boys. The doors were kept locked when there were no classes inside. Getting inside was no obstacle if you stole a butter knife from the cafeteria and used it to push the door latch aside. It was also a weekly routine for Coaches Dorr and Yonlick to catch us in there, make threats to us, and throw us out.  

The attraction of the apparatus room was what was inside. The room was divided down the middle with a floor-to-ceiling folding wall which had a swinging man door. On the boys’ side were climbing ropes, mini tramps, and wrestling mats both laid flat and rolled up. On the girls’ side were climbing ropes, floor-ex mats, and various gymnastic apparatus pieces. When the lunch bell would ring, six of us pimply, “B.O.” stinking boys would meet in the cafeteria for a quick sandwich. We would then steal a butter knife and head up to the apparatus room, all the while keeping a nervous watch out for the two coaches. After jimmying the door open, we would run inside and start swinging on the ropes like Tarzan to build our upper body strength. It was during one of these clandestine operations that I realized we had all the makings for a competitive course: rope swings, rolled mats, a mini tramp, and a clock on the wall with a sweeping second hand. 

The course was easy to set up and designed around the existing layout of the rooms. The boys’ side had a mini tramp, rolled wrestling mats and a climbing rope suspended from the ceiling. On the other side of the folding wall, on the girls’ side, was another climbing rope. This is how the competition worked: when the clock’s second hand hit 12, the competitor would swing the rope toward the far wall and then run back about ten feet in front of the mini tramp. When the rope had returned and was again swinging toward the back wall, he would run the ten feet, jump on the mini tramp, dive over the rolled mat, grab onto the rope and swing himself across the room. Upon reaching the other side of the room he would release the rope and run through the swinging door into the girls’ gym.  Running across their floor-ex mat he would grab the other climbing rope, swing as high across the room as he could get until his foot touched the wall, swing back releasing the rope and again run through the man door into the boys’ side crossing the finish line. The best time was the winner. 

Now two things should be noted: first, there was a learning curve as to when to start your run for the mini tramp to dive over the rolled mat and grab the swinging rope. More than once, a bad start and bad timing meant sailing through the air horizontally over the rolled mat only to find that the rope was not remotely close. The result was a very loud one-point landing. The second thing to note was that each competitor had to have his own theme music which he would sing to psych out the competition. Mine was “The William Tell Overture”, better known as the theme from “The Lone Ranger.” 

Let me just say that besides the continued inconvenience of having the two coaches bust in on raids, we were never bothered by anyone else on either side of the apparatus rooms. Therefore, our last competition in the apparatus room seemed like any other day. We jimmied the door open and all six guys ran into the room. Our course from the previous day was still set up and I decided to compete first. With the other five sitting on the wrestling mat, I began psyching them out with the theme from the “Lone Ranger” as I waited for the second hand to get close to 12.

I held the rope high over my head. Ten seconds to 12 and the intensity of my song now had the other guys looking worried. The second hand hit 12 and I dropped the rope which swung out across the room as I ran back behind the mini tramp. Then as the rope swung back in my direction, I ran to the mini tramp and took an enormous pounding jump which sailed me horizontally through the air allowing me to catch the rope.

Using only arm strength to hold the rope I swung across the room, released the rope and ran through the swinging man-door now singing my theme song with great intensity. Then, running across the floor-ex mat I grabbed the second climbing rope, running until my feet left the ground and I sailed through the air to touch my foot on the far wall. As I climbed up, up, up and I sang louder, louder, louder, I sensed I was not alone in the room. My peripheral vision on the right side of my head picked up what seemed to be people. Not quite to the wall yet, I jerked my head to the right to see about 25 girls sitting on the floor-ex mat and Mrs. Valum standing in the center holding a clip board. 

You know how people who watch a tennis or ping-pong match move their heads back and forth watching the ball? I saw 26 heads follow my arc up to the wall and then follow my arc back down again. It was stunning to watch and apparently, they were as surprised to see me as I was to see them. Being still on the clock, I swung back to the floor and ran at full speed for the man door… and the man door only swings one way and when I hit it, not only did it not open, it jammed shut.

It really didn’t matter anyway; on the other side of the wall I heard Coaches Dorr and Yonlick raiding and apprehending the other five guys. 

50 years. You think a person would forgive and forget and yet here she comes down the hall towards me. Maybe if I shield my face and look the other way… 

“Have a good day Tarzan,” she says.  

“You too Mrs. Valum.” 

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