I was only about nine years old the first time I ran away from school on April Fools' Day. Three of us boys slipped away at noon and soon after one-o'clock we saw that we were alone. We also knew we couldn't return to school because we would be punished for being late for our one-o'clock class.
We realized we were in trouble and would have to try to think of a way out. But first of all, we had to get farther away from the schoolhouse so the teacher wouldn't be able to find us with a search party. In fact, we ran so far away and spent such a miserable afternoon that we failed to see the other students going home from school. We had planned to join them and all arrive home at the same time. And after that—well, that was as far as a nine-year-old could plan. After that I had no idea how any good thing could happen to me.
But we were caught in our own trap. Since it was April Fools' afternoon, the teachers turned out school early. The other kids got home an hour earlier than usual. And what I got when I got home was no surprise. My biggest surprise was that I didn't get a whipping. Of course I got a good talking-to, but no whipping. That little experience taught me to be better organized next time before attempting mutiny in any form.
I believe the next time I ran away from school on April Fools' Day was when I was a Freshman in Hamlin High School. Now, it was such a long time ago I know I will not get every little detail exactly right, but for all practical purposes and intent, it happened about like this. We were well organized, to say the least.
It was April Fool's Day, one o'clock in the afternoon. We students were all seated in the study hall, each at his regularly assigned desk. In the parking lot out front were two trucks and a number of automobiles, all parked orderly and aimed in the direction of the Double Mountain River.
The entire student body had been warned that the school board would not tolerate running away on the first of April. Those who did would have all their grades lowered by ten points.
When the one o'clock bell rang, the study hall teacher said,
"Rise and pass to your classes."
We stood up and passed all right, but not to our classrooms. We marched out of the study hall and downstairs, taking a select group of teachers with us. By the time the superintendent realized what was happening, we were all loaded into our vehicles and heading for a sandy playground in the channel of the river. The kidnapped teachers gave us very little trouble. They liked it.
We were told later that three girls showed up for class in one room. Their teacher asked, "What are you girls doing here?"
They told her they didn't want their grades to be lowered ten points.