Way back in Junior High, we got a really nice, wet snow one day. The Principal's voice came over the intercom that afternoon. His instruction? No snow ball fights. Anybody caught throwing snow balls on school property would receive swats.
We had been waiting for one of those wet, packing snows, and here it was with the sun now shining brightly! Mr. Smoot had specifically addressed the rural students waiting for school buses in his announcement. What is a student to do? Throw snow balls, of course!
We had a big ole time waiting for the buses! One big snow ball war! We were laughing and throwing and making them as fast as we could. The buses came, we got on, and home we went, happy.
The next day, Mr. Smoot's voice came over the intercom. He said that those who would turn themselves in would see a lesser punishment. Through the course of the morning, those of us involved discussed our options. We decided that it would be good to turn ourselves in, because the school pet, who never does anything wrong or breaks any rules, threw snow balls too! Yes, we would get swats, but we would witness him getting his first swats too!
Eight of us were sitting in Mr. Smoot's office having confessed our sin. He looked around at us and asked if this was everybody. We all grinned and said, "Nope. We are missing one!" Mr. Smoot, "Who?" We collectively gave the answer. His eyes widened, knowing that he would now have to give the school pet swats. It was glorious! He got on the intercom and asked for that individual to come to the office. You could hear the whole junior high catch its breath and then snicker quietly, as they knew we were all in the office and why.
The individual presented himself, attempted to make a case for innocence, and then fell in line for his turn to watch the man go over the mountain. There was a painting of a mountain scene behind Mr. Smoot's desk. As the first swat was dealt and you were raised off of the ground, you were asked if you saw the man go over the mountain. Of course, the man going over the mountain was the swat recipient, and the sooner you caught on, the fewer swats you may receive. But, in this case, we were all going to receive two swats a piece.
One at a time, we watched each other receive their two swats. And then the moment we had all been waiting for. Recipient number nine! Finally, through tears of protest, the school pet was lifted off the ground, twice! Like us, he would have a bruise across his buttocks the width of the paddle. And, like us, his sit down would be tender for a week. For eight of us, it was worth it. For one of us, not so much.
Swats were meant to be a deterrent to unwanted behavior. You knew that if you misbehaved, you would receive the penalty. Most of the time, just the thought of swats was enough to make you toe the line. However, on that rare occasion like that told above, you would willingly submit even though you knew the pain.
Nine times two is eighteen swats. Three other swats were given that day for various other infractions. So, we would go down in history as a part of Mr. Smoot's record swat day! Twenty-one swats in one day. A record that was never broken.
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