one way or another
JUNIOR ACHIEVEMENT
BY WILLIAM LEE
"What would you think," I askedMarjorie over supper, "if I should undertaketo lead a junior achievementgroup this summer?"
She pondered it while she went tothe kitchen to bring in the dessert.It was dried apricot pie, and verytasty, I might add.
"Why, Donald," she said, "it couldbe quite interesting, if I understandwhat a junior achievement group is.What gave you the idea?"
"It wasn't my idea, really," I admitted."Mr. McCormack called meto the office today, and told me thatsome of the children in the lowergrades wanted to start one. Theyneed adult guidance of course, andone of the group suggested my name."
I should explain, perhaps, that Iteach a course in general science inour Ridgeville Junior High School,and another in general physics in theSenior High School. It's a privilegewhich I'm sure many educators mustenvy, teaching in Ridgeville, for ournew school is a fine one, and ouracademic standards are high. On theother hand, the fathers of most ofmy students work for the Commissionand a constant awareness of the Commissionand its work pervades thetown. It is an uneasy privilege then,at least sometimes, to teach my old-fashionedbrand of science to thesechildren of a new age.
"That's very nice," said Marjorie."What does a junior achievementgroup do?"
"It has the purpose," I told her,"of teaching the members somethingabout commerce and industry. Theymanufacture simple compositionslike polishing waxes and sell themfrom door-to-door. Some groups havebuilt up tidy little bank accountswhich are available for later educationalexpenses."
"Gracious, you wouldn't have tosell from door-to-door, would you?"
"Of course not. I'd just tell thekids how to do it."
Marjorie put back her head andlaughed, and I was forced to join her,for we both recognize that my understandingand "feel" for commercialmatters—if I may use that expression—isalmost nonexistent.
"Oh, all right," I said, "laugh atmy commercial aspirations. But don'tworry about it, really. Mr. McCormacksaid we could get Mr. Wells fromCommercial Department to help outif he was needed. There is one problem,though. Mr. McCormack is goingto put up fifty dollars to buy anyraw materials wanted and he rathersuggested that I might advance anotherfifty. The question is, could wedo it?"
Marjorie did mental arithmetic."Yes," she said, "yes, if it's somethingyou'd like to do."
We've had to watch such thingsrather closely for the last ten—no,eleven years. Back in the old Ridgeville,fifty-odd miles to the south, wehad our home almost paid for, whenthe accident occurred. It was in thepath of the heaviest fallout, and wecouldn't have kept on living thereeven if the town had stayed. WhenRidgeville moved to its present site,so, of course, did we, which meantstarting mortgage payments all overagain.
Thus it was that on a Wednesdaymorning about three weeks later, Iwas sitting at one end of a plank picnictable with five boys and girlslined up along the sides. This was tobe our headquarters and factory forthe summer—a roomy unused barnbelonging to the parents of one ofthe group members, Tommy Miller.
"O.K.," I said, "let's relax. Youdon't need to treat me as a teacher,you know. I stopped being a scho