My parents had a 7-year-old girl and a 5-year-old boy when they moved to Eastern Oregon in 1939.  The only paved road was the main highway connecting the three communities in the valley.

Numerous country schools still operated.  They were holdovers from the era when horses were the main mode of transportation.  Large families were the norm.  With lots of children to be educated, and slow transportation to get them to school, each area had its own school building and school district.

My older brother and sister were initially sent to the Rock Creek School.  Getting there required a mile-and-a-quarter horseback ride.  They rode together on one horse, which was kept in the school's horse barn until school let out in the afternoon.

One teacher taught all the grades.  Mom and Dad didn't approve of the teacher one year, so they transferred their children to the Muddy Creek School.  This wasn't nearly as convenient since it required a 3-mile ride each way.  The Rock Creek School didn't last long after that.  It was closed down, and the students either went to Muddy Creek, or to Haines.

Sometime before I started school in 1953, the Haines District had consolidated with the large Baker district.  Baker had the high school, and Haines had been reduced to a grade school with six grades and three teachers.  Muddy Creek, with its eight grades, operated for a few more years before it, too, consolidated with Baker.  A few of its students, however, siphoned off to North Powder, a small district to the north.

I attended my first six years of school at Haines Grade School.  My next six years were spent riding the school bus to Baker.  Margie and I met there in high school.  Five years later we were married.  By the time our own children were old enough to start school, I was out of the Navy, through with college, and living back on the home place.  Our children started school at Haines, and were following the same pattern I'd set.

At least every other year another Kerns kid started school.  Nathan started first grade in 1977, Katie in 1979, Matt in 1981, Amy in 1982, Heidi in 1984, and Aaron in 1986.

Ann Clarke was the first grade teacher.  We loved her, and she loved the Kerns kids.  She taught each of our first six children to read, and got them all off to a good start.  She promised to be there to start all of our children, but ended up retiring before the job was complete.  We accused her of reneging on her promise.  She replied that the incomplete job was really our fault.  "How was I to know that you'd keep having children?  I couldn't teach forever, you know."

About the same time Mrs. Clarke retired, the school district got into a financial bind.  In order to save money, the superintendent decided to close the Haines School.  Adam started kindergarten in 1987.  That made seven Kerns kids attending school.  They were distributed among five different schools in Baker with no attempt being made to keep siblings in the same grade school.

The result was a nightmare.  The grade schoolers were exhausted from the twice-daily one-hour bus rides.  We as parents were forced to choose which school program we'd attend since most grade schools chose the same evening to put on their Christmas plays.

It was also the year that Matt started junior high.  The seventh and eighth grades are easily the hardest years.  The seventh grade was particularly hard for Matt.  Each morning he loudly and tearfully announced to his parents and to the world, "I HATE SCHOOL!"

We didn't know how Matt was ever going to survive another five years.  We didn't know what to do, or how to help him.  But Matt came up with his own solution.  At the end of the year he simply stated, "Next year I'm going to go to North Powder!"

Katie had already endured two years of junior high, and had just finished her first year of high school.  She hadn't complained; but when Matt made his announcement about switching schools, she said, "I'll go with you."

So the next fall Matt and Katie went to North Powder.  Nathan finished his senior year at Baker High.  Amy entered Baker Junior High, and Heidi, Aaron, and Adam went to various Baker grade schools.

Matt and Katie had a wonderful year.  North Powder was a small school.  Everyone knew everybody else.  Teachers had smaller classes, and had the time and inclination to give more individual attention to students who needed it.  Matt thrived.  He no longer shouted about hating school.  In his senior year he was elected to serve as student body president.  The boy who hated school ended up staying in school for 20 years to obtain his doctorate in veterinary medicine.

Matt's and Katie's year at North Powder was in such stark contrast to everyone else's year that Margie and I made the decision to switch all of the children to North Powder the following fall.  Nathan, therefore, became the only one to graduate from Baker High until Ivy made the decision to switch to the Baker district at the beginning of her junior year.

The North Powder district had undergone some subtle changes by the time Ivy reached high school.  It wasn't the place that it had been.  Discipline was neglected, and sports were emphasized to the exclusion of other activities.  Ivy's interests were centered on music rather than sports.  She was forced to make a choice.  It was a difficult one, but she chose to leave her comfort zone and go to a new school.

That left Eli with a decision to make, also.  Should he stay at North Powder, or switch to Haines?  The decision became an easy one when the Farbers returned to the area and registered for school at Haines.  His Farber and Bradford nephews and nieces were all going to be at Haines, so suddenly the Kerns kids were back in the Baker school district.   Nathan graduated from Baker in 1989, and Ivy in 2006.  All of the children in between graduated from North Powder.

Our favorite teacher at North Powder was Mrs. Miller.  Mrs. Miller taught math and history classes.  She challenged the kids to do their best, and made them work hard.  She was also not above joking around with them.  Knowing, therefore, that she was able to take a joke, the kids reciprocated.

On April Fool's Day Mrs. Miller entered her classroom following lunch, and found her desk gone.  In its place was a note directing her to the next clue to its whereabouts.  Thus began a treasure hunt which eventually led her to the missing desk.  Thus also began a series of exchanges in which she and Matt engaged in an escalating battle to see who could get whom best.

The exchanges lasted beyond Matt's graduation from high school.  Matt was at college when one April Fool's Day he got a telephone call purportedly from the dean's office.  He was to report there for cheating on a math test.  Matt was mad when he hung up.  He hadn't cheated on any math test.  He fumed inwardly until suddenly it dawned upon him that the date was April 1st.  The voice on the phone hadn't been Mrs. Miller's, but he had no doubt that she was behind the call.

The next April 1st found Matt in England on a two-year mission for the Church.  In March he wrote home with instructions for a gift that he wanted to have delivered to Mrs. Miller at the school on April Fool's Day.

Two events had occurred which prompted his idea.  One was an incident which had been widely reported in national news a few years before in which President Jimmy Carter had been attacked by a rabbit swimming in the lake where the president was canoeing.

The other was Mrs. Miller's own recounting to her class about the horrible experience they'd had with a rabbit they'd gotten for her two little girls.  The rabbit scratched the girls, wet on the carpet, and made itself unwelcome in the house.  It was expelled to the garage where it proceeded to tear things up and make a big mess.  Mrs. Miller finally had to take the rabbit, and drive several hundred miles to her old home to get rid of it.

In obedience to Matt's instructions we procured a live bunny from a rabbit raiser.  We wrapped it in a big box, and made it appear that it had come all the way from England.  It was taken to the school, and placed on the table in the teachers' room.

The school secretary informed Mrs. Miller that a large package had arrived for her.  Mrs. Miller came to get her package, and read the return address.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, and sat down heavily.  She didn't dare open the package.  It had air holes, and something could be heard softly moving about inside.  The school's other teachers were all gathered around watching.  "What should I do?" she asked in despair.

It took some time, and required urging from the other teachers, before Mrs. Miller was able to bring herself to carefully open the package.  As she did so, she found a note:

"Dear Mrs. Miller,

This is a genuine attack rabbit from a line

bred especially for guarding the grounds

at Buckingham Palace.  I recall your affinity

for rabbits, and thought you would like to

add this unusual specimen to your collection.

Matt Kerns

Fortunately for Mrs. Miller, the band teacher was a keeper of rabbits and offered to take the attack rabbit off her hands.  That ended the April Fool's Day exchanges between Matt and Mrs. Miller.  Matt had won.  But Matt was yet to receive one more April Fool's Day message which would send him reeling.

Matt was still serving his mission in England.  His companion was a young man from another large Oregon farm family.  The companion had twelve brothers and sisters, and had recently received a letter from home informing him that his parents were expecting another baby.  The announcement floored Matt's companion.  Matt thought it was funny.

Shortly thereafter, Matt received a letter from his own parents making the same announcement.  Matt couldn't believe it.  His mother was 46 years old!  It threw him for a loop.  But finally he noticed the date that the letter was written.—April 1st.  It was a joke, and he'd fallen for it.  He and his companion enjoyed the joke very much.

The date that the letter was written was strictly coincidental.  Matt sobered when subsequent letters kept mentioning his mother's pregnancy.  When Matt finally arrived home, he had a new little brother to meet.