Main Street, Cuba, Il. Allow me to share a story with you. You see, 2014 is the 40th year anniversary of Cuba High School’s class of 1974. My class. You’ve all heard the tiresome cliche, “Times flies.” Well, it does. No kidding! While going through scanned photos of my High School year books, I was transported back in time . . . “You know how this goes,” said my sixth grade teacher. “Face the chalk board, feet spread apart, bend over, hands on the desk - sssmaaack as the paddle hit its mark on my hind-side. Honestly, I don’t even remember what this paddling was for. But I do remember the sting, and the embarrassment I felt standing in front of the class. No, I wasn’t the only one. Like all schools we had our share of misfits. In our small, rural farming community of west central Illinois I’m happy to report there was no teen violence, no shootings, and no serious vandalisms. Well, ok, we did tend to torment the local policeman, who we dubbed Barney Fife. A group of us wo...
A smidgen of history, a dash of culture - a minute dedicated to making you smile.