The Absent Uncle: The race

I was raised in rural southwest Minnesota, went to school in Marshall, Minn., back in the 1950’s and 60’s.

Today, I want to recount a story from my elementary school days (either second or third grade) that was brought back through a conversation with another classmate on a mostly weekly call we are a part of. Most Tuesday evenings, myself and three classmates meet on the internet to just shoot the breeze, stay in touch, solve the problems of the world, and generally have a good time talking and reminiscing.

On the call last Tuesday, my friend Dan brought up “The Race”. He had been in touch with another classmate who was a participant in “The Race” and after talking with him, I wondered if I remembered the particulars.

Remember? Oh, for goodness sakes – like it was yesterday.

“The Race” was between Terry and Susan. Terry was the fastest guy in our grade – by far – and for a girl, Susan seemed to be able to run very fast. So, in grade-school fashion, this got talked up. The question seemed to center around how much faster was Terry than Susan. The debate was pretty intense. Both Terry and Susan were non-participants in the talking; neither a braggart in any sense of the word. 

The common-sense approach to this was that of course, Terry was faster, but how much faster? The girls touted Susan’s running prowess and while they really didn’t think she was faster than Terry, they knew she really could run fast.

The debate heightened. The question would not go away. How much faster was Terry than Susan? 

At this point, the three teachers of either the second or third grade interceded. They realized the question was not going away so they organized an unprecedented formal race – on the playground, during afternoon recess on a bright sunny day, with a reasonably comfortable temperature. Anyone from the three classes who had interest in the contest were there.

With one teacher marking off the start-finish lines with chalk, another taking the starting line with whistle ready to start the race, and the third teacher (the one who did not have Terry or Susan in her class) at the finish line. 

The excitement and enthusiasm for this exhibition was unmatched in any recess we had ever had. Kids were cheering, touting the speed of their champion. For the most part, it fell along strict gender lines, although I remember a few crossovers. There was no wagering, all was for pride. Pure pride. 

And then they were off!   

As expected, Terry sped off with the lead. But after the first few strides it became apparent that the taller Susan had a longer stride (these are adult terms after 60-plus years, please, give me author’s liberty) and that she was slowly closing the gap. Terry was running very fast, but Susan was covering more playground with each stride. Both runners were doing their very best. 

Had the course been shorter or longer, we quite probably would have had a different result. That placement of the chalk finish line was the difference maker.

And of course, you want to know who won? It was very tight, and I’m just so sorry – you would have had to be there to know. (Spoiler alert: Susan.) Both participants were gracious and complimentary – and all 60-plus kids that day saw a great race.

I will never forget it.