| Fergus Falls High School Memories |
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Listed below you will find memories of Fergus Falls High School or Fergus Falls that have been submitted by alumni. If you have any memories of your school days that you would like to submit, please email them to This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it . Submissions may be edited for grammar and structure. Along with your memory(ies), please include your name (maiden) and class year. Thanks and happy reading! “Toolin’ Main Street”“Toolin’ main street” is Fergus Falls. For those of you who don't know this phrase, it meant cruising or driving your car, when you were old enough or had someone to ride with. Having a little brother or sister, or any little kid with you, wasn't actually "cool", but some had no choice. Toolin’ was all about being cool, checking things out, who you were with or not with, showing off your car, etc. The route was simple. You could pick it up any where, but it went from the A & W root beer stand, before and after the drive-in theatre let out, then down through main street and up to Dairyland. Then circle around in Dairyland and go back to A & W, basically the same way. If it was just stags, you had to have a window down with some cool music on. Some guys would take a small block of wood, roll it up in their short sleeve t-shirt, hang their arm out the window, and hold the top of the door to show off their muscles and masculinity. Tom Hagen Let’s see, high school memories…Oh yeah, food, a favorite topic! I bet there are hundreds of kids, old-timers now, that loved “Sloppy Joe Day” for school lunch. I can't remember anyone who didn't like them, maybe because we were too busy eating them to notice what they tasted like. The most unfortunate part for many, while eating their Sloppy Joe, was getting some on their shirt. It seemed the harder you tried not to spill on yourself, the more you did. Then you tried to wipe it off and it seemed to make that little dab get bigger. You had to go the rest of the day with that stupid stain on your shirt and this was worse than that darn pimple on your face. Well, there was always tomorrow and another favorite, Turkey Gravy! Tom Hagen 1967…New Vocational Building, woodworking, and our teacher, Mr. Glen Chandler. The first time I laid my eyes on that T-Rex looking large Radial Arm Saw, I knew it was going to be a harrowing experience. The first time I heard that beast calling out in that high-pitched noise and witnessing those glistening steel teeth, which instantly disappeared when the on-switch was clicked, I knew this was some serious business. It wasn't long, though, and we were like ducks in water. The brand new paint room, with a vent a hood for fumes. Oops, I didn't mean to spill that gallon of paint on the floor. I didn't even know how I did it. My heart was pounding. The other kids stepped back and I knew I had to go to tell Mr. Chandler. Well, his face always did turn a little red, and I presumed he blushed pretty easily, at least I thought so. However, I have never seen a teacher turn as red in the face as he had just done. It seemed like forever, but when he gathered his composure somewhat, he looked at it and said, "Well it had to happen sooner or later." Instant relief on my part. Then he said, "Let's get it cleaned up the best we can.” It was this type of teacher we learned to respect and hoped of becoming just like them. Tom Hagen "Norman"The last year at Washington Junior High, the song "Paper Tiger" by Sue Thompson was on the charts. On the flip side was the song "Norman”. A guy named Vince Demmer sat next to me. The teacher, a past smoke jumper, had the name Norman. (I bet Vince remembers his last name.) Norman was very energetic and I sensed he loved smoke jumping. And in my eyes, that had to be a heck of a lot more exciting than looking over a crowd of 9th graders who watched the clock and were waiting for the next bell. Anyway, Vince knew the song and all I had to do was quietly hum a little or sing a smidge under my breath and Vince would crack up. Poor Vince. He kept telling me to be quiet before he got into trouble again. Norman asked him one time if he could share with the rest of the class what he thought was so funny. Of course, Vince being the kind hearted fellow he was, just couldn't tell him. I bet Norman and the rest of the class thought Vince was weird. Some years later I ended up in nursing school and at the end of a specific rotation, it was customary to have a party. We all went to a dance party and the DJ was offering door prizes if someone knew the name of the song and who sang it. Before I knew it, I was shouting out "’Norman’ by Sue Thompson"! Even the DJ didn't think any one would guess the song. I got two door prizes and was pegged the "old man" for guessing it. Thanks Norman and Vince, the final joke was on me! Tom Hagen Team ManagerI was one of many team managers, trainers, and statisticians that were a part of the various sports. There were no job descriptions, no job requirements, and no set hours as to when to start or finish. The team manager usually started way before the players did and was still there long after they all left, especially on game nights. It was understood that the team managers and trainers also had to make sure the visiting team had left their locker room clean and in order. For the most part, it was too late to go to a dance and many times, we were too tired to want to. I also volunteered to open up the gymnasium on Saturday mornings so the “Hot Dogs of tomorrow” could practice. Names I remember were: Jeff Skogmo, Billie Greenagel, Paul Wenino, and Dan Olson. They were there every Saturday morning. You would have thought Elvis walked in the room if a varsity player ever came around or if a coach showed up. Anyway, after the game on Friday night, if I had some change in my pocket, I would stop off at a place called the Highway Inn on the edge of town, at the junction of Hwy 59 and 210. Normally, there were one or two customers in there at that time of night, along with the cook and a waitress. I think her last name was Delluge. Mrs. Delluge was about the same age as my mother. When I walked in, she and the cook would always smile, get me a glass of water and ask if I knew what I wanted or if I needed a menu. I would count my money to see if I had enough for the half or quarter chicken. By this time, the cook was already making it. Mrs. Delluge would set up the ketchup and would always say, “My two daughters are in the same grade as you. They are twins.” I would hand her the program I had saved from the game and she would say, "Oh, I know this boy and that one. I think this is “so and so's” boy – nice people, they should be proud." It didn't matter if that one played or not and they never asked. The two of them chatted about the names in the program while I munched on my hot chicken. Those two could tell you everything you wanted to know about any family in and around Fergus. If they didn't know, they weren't bashful in asking one of the patrons. Mrs. Delluge and the cook always made you feel like you were family and scouring the program made you feel like she was reading from the history of a family tree. And if I didn't have enough for the half chicken, she would dip into her tip apron and make up the difference and would tell me to pay her back next Friday. “I'll tell my twins you stopped by.” Tom Hagen |