Mr. Up: Life of a Substitute Teacher

By Richard E. Klokow

This autobiography tells the story of the life of Dick Klokow, who was born almost one hundred years ago in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. At age nine, he sold newspapers and organized a baseball team with his friend Ray Pirelli. Although small, he made the Lincoln High School varsity football and basketball teams.

He enlisted in the Marine Corps when he was seventeen years old and served as a radioman in a fighter squadron during the Battle of Guadalcanal. In a highlight of his life, he was promoted to sergeant!

Thanks to the GI Bill, he earned a bachelor of electrical engineering degree from Marquette University. He designed aircraft generators while working in the Engineering Department at Westinghouse in Lima, Ohio. After earning a master's degree from the University of Pittsburgh, he got his dream job as an instructor at MIT.

Shortly after Sputnik, he was employed at Lockheed Missile and Space Company in Sunnyvale, California. Included in this autobiography are stories of the many exciting projects that he worked on during his thirty years as an engineer and program manager.

In the twilight of his life and the highlight of his career, he became a substitute teacher in the Fremont Union High School District. The duration of his assignments ranged from one day to a full school year. He greeted his classes with "Good morning, you wonderful students of ____________ High School," which set the tone for the class session. Included in the book are notes from students who praise his method of teaching, including the use of humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890611932

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Introduction

Chapter 1: The Early Years

Chapter 2: USMC

Chapter 3: VMF-112

Chapter 4: Back in the States

Chapter 5: Flight School

Chapter 6: Civilian Life

Chapter 7: Westinghouse

Chapter 8: MIT

Chapter 9: Westinghouse 2

Chapter 10: Lockheed

Chapter 11: Lockheed 2

Chapter 12: Lockheed Aircraft Service (LAS)

Chapter 13: Lockheed Sunnyvale

Chapter 14: The Best Program Ever!

Chapter 15: Program Manager

Chapter 16: Life Goes On!

Chapter 17: Monta Vista High School

Chapter 18: Cupertino High School

Chapter 19: Homestead High School

Chapter 20: Fremont and Lynbrook High Schools

About the Author

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Mr. Up: Life of a Substitute Teacher

Richard E. Klokow

Copyright © 2023 Richard E. Klokow

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-89061-192-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89061-193-2 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To all the wonderful students whom I had the privilege of working with over the years.

Introduction

Why would a person who was raised during the Depression, was second string in high school football and basketball, missed shooting expert in the Marine Corps, failed to earn his PhD at MIT and at Stanford, was a Catholic who divorced his first wife, and was a substitute high school teacher want to write his autobiography?

This autobiography would never have been written if it weren't for Dr. Smitha Rau, a psychologist at Kaiser Permanente in Cupertino, California. Because I had trouble sleeping, my regular Kaiser physician, Dr. Lum, recommended talking to a doctor in the Department of Psychiatry. After listening to an abridged version of my life story, Dr. Rau came up with the idea that I was insecure, was too humble, and should be proud of what I had accomplished in my life. She said that there are many people who would resonate with my story.

Upon leaving her office, I gave her a reference to a YouTube video put together by Denae Nurnberg, an assistant principal, and made possible by Tricia Goulet, executive assistant to Greg Giglio, principal at Homestead High School. It is called Dick Klokow, Goodbye and was an awesome tribute to my twenty-seven years of substitute teaching in the Fremont High School District. Seeing that I made a difference in the lives of many of our wonderful students also helped motivate me to write this story. Over the years, many students had said that I should write the story of my life, but I thought they were joshing me (as they were wont to do), so if they read this, this is for you.

I was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, on January 26, 1925; sold the Milwaukee Journal at age nine; was an altar boy; played baseball, basketball, and football (usually as a sub); left high school at age seventeen to enlist in the Marine Corps; earned a degree in electrical engineering from Marquette University; worked at Westinghouse Electric Corporation; earned a master's degree from the University of Pittsburgh; was an instructor at MIT; worked for Lockheed Missile and Space Company for thirty years; and then worked twenty-seven years as a substitute high school teacher. I was honored by the Fremont Union School District Board and the Monta Vista High School staff, as well as by the Homestead High School staff and students, upon my retirement.

My dear wife, Myrna, edited the first three drafts; and besides correcting errors, she provided the encouragement needed for me to continue writing. When she told her cousin Ken that I was writing my autobiography, he quipped, Dick better get going if he is to make the book tour!

One more reason I have written my life story is because hearing the story of my life may help students who are having the same problems I had. I didn't think my story would influence anyone, but a statement made by the father of a student of mine gave me the confidence to start writing. He said, Your life story changed the direction of my son's life in a most positive way.

Why the Title of This Book Is Mr. Up

When I started a class in the fall semester of 2009, I noticed that students were looking at me in a strange way. Did I not zip up my zipper? What could it be? Finally, I asked the class what was going on, and they said that I looked like Mr. Fredricksen in the movie Up. The same thing happened in every class at every school that fall. At the start of each class, students would look at each other and quietly laugh. After I acknowledged that I looked like the star of the movie Up, students would have a hearty laugh. On my eighty-fifth birthday, the students of Mrs. Westgate's class gave me a birthday cake and a DVD of the movie Up. After Myrna and I watched the movie, she agreed that I did look like Mr. Fredricksen. From then on, I was no longer Mr. Klokow but became Mr. Up! When teachers and students asked if it bothered me, I said it was what it was, and I was okay with it.

Chapter 1

The Early Years

On a typically cold winter day in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Richard Edwin Klokow was born. The date was January 26, 1925. The place of birth was not a hospital, but a home at 262 Hamilton Street, and the delivery was performed not by a doctor but by a midwife. My parents were a young couple in their early twenties. My father was Edwin Albert Klokow, and my mother was Adele Mary Gleason Klokow. I joined my three-year-old sister, Shirley Catherine Klokow, which as it turned out completed the Klokow family. My birth certificate shows that our family home was at 901 Racine Street. (A Google Map check in 2019 puts this address in Racine, a city several miles south of Milwaukee.) Edwin was a German Lutheran, and Adele (also known as Della) was an Irish Catholic, which resulted in neither of their families approving of them getting married. So they eloped and were married by a justice of the peace in Indiana. When they got back, both the Lutherans and the Catholics said they should get married in a church. After Edwin agreed that any children would be raised Catholic, they were remarried by a Catholic priest.

Jumping ahead ninety-four years, I will insert two emails that I sent to one of my granddaughters, Kelly Klokow, who wanted information about her ancestors to share with her children, Conner and Shari. The first relates to my dad and the second to my mom.

Edwin Albert Klokow

My father, Edwin Albert Klokow, your great-grandfather, Conner, and Shari's great-great-grandfather was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin on August 11, 1901. His father was Frank Klokow (Franz Klockow) and his mother was Bertha Wolter who were both born In Germany. He had an older brother Friedrich (Fred) and two older sisters Ema and Meta (Mae). Born after my dad were Edna, Gertrude, and Harvey. Uncle Fred started work at Palmolive Peet as an office boy and worked his way up to Vice President. He was married to Aunt Vi. Aunt Mae was married to Bill Fry. She was a telephone operator and he worked for Sears. Aunt Edna had a child, Jean, but I had never met Jean's father. In those days, people didn't discuss things like divorce. She married Uncle Gus Milbrat who had a child named Madge. They all lived with my grandpa in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, on 5 acres bordered by Oconomowoc River and near Lake LaBelle. There was a house, barn, garage, and an outdoor two-seat toilet. No electricity or water. Oil lamps, irons heated on the wood burning stove, water via pump. Shirley and I spent many joyful summers on the farm. The whole family got together there on Christmas and other occasions. We had many great times in Oconomowoc! We rode Grandpa's old horse bareback, picked vegetables from the garden, went swimming in the nearby river (where we also took our baths) and in Lac La Belle where I also learned to dive off the low and high boards, went to band concerts in the park, watched volunteer firemen's contests, rode bicycles, ate ice cream cones, sold lemonade and brownies on the street, went fishing, skated in the winter, shot BB guns, smoked a corn cob pipe (courtesy of Uncle Augie Wolter—brother of my Grandmother). We played Old Maid with the Fulmer's who lived just across the Oconomowoc River. If you ended up as the old maid everyone else got to put soot on your face. I was a guest at Jean's one room Lutheran School and ate Aunt Edna's Lemon Squares which Myrna (my second wife for the past 43 years) makes to the delight of family, friends, and neighbors.

Aunt Edna was one of my favorite Aunts. She allowed Jean and I to have the freedom to enjoy each day of summer vacation and was a great hostess of family gatherings. Grandpa was the patriarch of the family. He was retired as a Blacksmith for the Milwaukee Road. On one occasion, my father (who never hollered or hit me or my sister) was quietly correcting my behavior when Grandpa said Let the little boy alone as I silently cheered. Grandpa spoke in both English and German. I remember him telling me: Setz die kint der klienes kind.

Aunt Edna and my dad were the only siblings that had children. Aunt Gertie never married—she was a linotype operator and young enough to relate to our generation. Uncle Harvey was ten years older than we were—he lived in Oconomowoc with my Aunt Edna through high school. He was handsome and had many beautiful girlfriends. He teased us a lot, but we all liked him. He worked as an office manager. He married Aunt Doris, and they lived on the South side of Milwaukee. Uncle Harvey taught us how to play golf at a country club near Oconomowoc. He gave me a pair of his old ice skates—the racing type with long blades as opposed to hockey skates. I entered and won a race on Fowler Lake which is adjacent to Lake Labelle (both lakes froze solid in winter). The race was one lap backwards! I was about ten years old.

My father went to an all-German grade school and then attended West High School in Milwaukee for two years. I don't know why he quit school since he was very bright (when I struggled with Algebra, he helped me get it.). His first job was delivering meat for a butcher using a horse drawn vehicle. His next job was a dispatcher for the Milwaukee Road. This position led to him becoming a Fireman on steam locomotives. He shoveled coal from the tender into the furnace to heat the water into the steam to drive the engine. In winter his front was hot, and back was cold. His hands were callused like I had never seen or imagined. After serving his time as a Fireman, he made it to his dream job—ENGINEER! He was an engineer on steam engines and later diesels. During the depression when things were slow on the Milwaukee Road, he spent a few years working for Uncle Gus on crews that maintained railroad bridges for the Chicago Northwestern Railroad. This took him to Iowa and South Dakota. He would come home on the weekends and work the weekdays travelling, of course by rail. I often asked my dad to take me with him to spend a week with him and Uncle Gus. It didn't happen, but Uncle Gus took me, so I got to spend a week with my dad, Uncle Gus, and the bridge crew. The crew stayed in box cars which had beds and kitchens. Uncle Gus and my dad had their own box car home in which I got to stay for a great week of my life. I got to ride on a hand cart that rode the rails from home to the bridge of the week. I saw my dad heat rivets to cherry red and then toss them with tongs to a riveter on the bridge who caught the rivets with an iron mitt. He placed the rivet in a hole, bucking it while his partner pounded the other end with a tool. A highlight of the trip came when I got to ride on a handcar to place torpedoes on the track some distance from the bridge. If a train passes that point, the torpedo will go off and make an explosive noise loud enough for the crew of any train approaching the bridge to hear and to stop in time.

Adele Gleason Klokow

My Mother, your great-grandmother, Conner, and Shari's great-great-grandmother was Adele Mary Teresa Gleason Klokow. Her friends and family called her Della. She was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin on February 3, 1902. Her Mother was Ellen O'Neil Gleason who was born In West Bend, Wisconsin in 1874. Her Father was John Gleason who was born in Ireland.

Mom went to school through eighth grade. She was a homemaker, a devoted wife, and a wonderful Mother who took good care of Shirley and me in a most loving way. She campaigned for Democrats for Aldermen in our Ward (the First) if they were Irish. During WWII, she was an Air Raid Warden in her ward. She sometimes talked like Mrs. Malaprop. For example: When I was married to your Grandmother Gail, her mother drove from Maryland to Milwaukee and her left arm was sunburned. She didn't like having one arm red and the other white so my mother said, It's OK, your other arm will get sunburned on the way back. Evidently, she was wiser than she acted for her mom (Ellen) called her Della the fox.

Siblings of my mom were Edward, William, and John who was killed as a teenager in a train accident. Uncle Eddie was a truck driver but didn't work often because of his back problems. He lived with my grandma along with Jerome (Twigs), Roy, John Sullivan (Bruiser) and Tom Sommers. Bruiser, who only weighed 100 pounds, came from Ireland to stay with my grandma Ellen for a week, but stayed his entire life. He was an Ash Man for the City of Milwaukee. Ashes were the residue left in coal burning stoves and were hauled from homes to trucks by Ash Men. When he retired, he got a check of $1.00 per month which he proudly gave to my grandma for room and board. My mom's father, John Gleason, and his brother married my grandmother and her sister in the same ceremony. Her Sister died and my grandmother took in her two children Roy and Jerome. Roy worked as a Bellhop at Hotels in Milwaukee. Jerome, who was my godfather, did odd jobs. Tom Sommers worked as laborer at plants in Milwaukee and was active in starting a union. Once he got beat up by Company hired thugs. At home he lived in the basement and did woodworking and had a canary. They all drank a lot even during prohibition. At times, I was sent to a nearby Speak Easy to get my Uncle Eddie home for dinner. Grandma Ellen said she lived in the house of squirrels.

Uncle Billy was married to Aunt Hattie nee Wojciechowski. After years of driving trucks, he became supervisor of dispatchers at Fred Olson and Sons. They had six children. Bobby, Jackie, Richard, Patsy, Ellen, and Billy. Richard died from an illness at about age 10. Jackie was killed in an aircraft bomber crash in WWII.

Aunt Hattie was a cofavorite Aunt along with Aunt Edna. She always made my sister Shirley and I felt welcome when we visited her home. When times were good, she made a coffee cake which was called stollen, when times weren't so good, she served catsup sandwiches with no sausage and without apologies. She also recommended chewing your food fifteen times and not to wash it down with milk. Every family member was warmly welcomed at Aunt Hattie's home. She always had a deck of cards in her purse and when we gathered at her house there was a keg of beer for the adults, plenty of food and always a poker game for adults. As children we got to play a few hands when an adult went to the bathroom. Aunt Hattie liked to play wild poker games like Baseball (3s and 9s wild, extra card with a 4) which drove my dad wild as he liked five-card draw or five-card stud period!

Grade-School Days

My first memories start at age four or five in an upstairs flat at 3014 Mount Vernon Avenue, Milwaukee. It had a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bath. The heating came from a coal-burning stove in the dining room—coal was stored in the basement, so it must have been quite a job for my dad to carry the coal up two flights. I attended the Wisconsin Avenue School for kindergarten and the Little School for first grade. My dad worked for the Milwaukee Road Railroad as a fireman on steam engines that switched railroad cars in the yards of Milwaukee. He could tell what ingredients went into the beer at the many breweries in Milwaukee including Miller, Pabst, Blatz, and Schlitz (the beer that made the city famous). When the Depression started in the early 1930s, he noticed that the brewers went to cheaper ingredients. When the Depression came, jobs went away. When banks failed in the 1930s, I remember my mother and me standing in a long line leading up to our bank. Mom withdrew her savings, and I did the same. We were given fifty cents for every dollar in savings.

In 1932, Mom, Dad, Shirley, and I moved in with Grandmother Ellen Gleason (Adele's mother) at 830 Brady Street in the Lower East Side. It was not only Grandma but her son Edward, her nephews Roy and Jerome, Tom Sommers, and John Sullivan. All of us in a cottage with three bedrooms and one bathroom. Shirley and I were always given priority for the bathroom to get ready for school. We went to the Cass Street Rotary School, which was only a few blocks from our new home. Rotary was a big deal since it meant that students would go to one room for geography, another for math, etc., as opposed to staying in one room for all courses as most grade schools did at that time.

The Busalacci family were next-door neighbors. Tina, Peter, and Rosie were around my age. We played many games such as kick the can, hopscotch, tag, swinging on a tire hanging from a backyard tree, and sitting on a porch seeing who could identify the next car coming down Brady Street (easier then than in 2019 since the choices were fewer—Chevy, Ford, Cord, etc.). Tina was the first girl I kissed or rather was kissed by, as we were hiding in a space between houses while playing kick the can. In another unforgettable incident, Rosie had me pinned to the sidewalk in front of our home when Uncle Eddie came by. This unfortunately resulted in his saying, We will get Rosie, whenever I misbehaved. The Busalaccis' parents were from Sicily, as were the majority of residents of the First Ward. My friends were Ray Pirelli, Peter Pucci, Al Cheisa, Fred Pattie, David Calamici, and the like. At their homes, I had many dinners featuring pasta fagioli and homemade bread. As a guest, I got the largest bowl of spaghetti that I struggled to finish (with sweat on my forehead) so as to not hurt the cook's feelings. After a year or so, we moved to a two-bedroom flat that was over a grocery store at 1429 Van Buren Avenue not far from Grandma's. We lived there while Shirley and later I finished sixth grade at Cass Street Rotary. Years later, I wrote the following two stories, the first about my experiences in the newspaper business and the second about youth baseball in the 1930s.

Newspaper Boy

When I was nine years old, I got my first job. I sold the Milwaukee Journal evening paper on the corner of Ogden and Jefferson. After school, I picked up the day's papers; put on my Milwaukee Journal apron with three pockets, one for dimes, one for nickels, and one for pennies; and walked to my corner. The corner was in enemy territory since it was a few blocks from Jefferson School, so I learned how to fend off groups of hostile students. Not many adults passed by that corner during the two hours I was there, so I only sold four or five papers per day. The paper cost three cents, two of which went to the journal, and I got to keep one cent. My friends thought I was stupid to spend that much time for four or five cents. However, after a few months, I was promoted to a better corner at Astor and Juneau where I sold fifteen papers per night. Sometime later, I sold journals in the lobby of a company that made paper from trees, and my sales rose to fifty papers per night! By the time I was fourteen, I had enough money to buy a Milwaukee Sentinel morning paper route. I had one hundred customers and made one dollar a day and two dollars on Sunday. Ironically, I took a pay cut from $28 per month to $21 per month when I joined the Marine Corps!

Baseball—Ages Nine to Sixteen

In 1935, my friend Ray Pirelli, other neighbors, and I played a lot of baseball in an empty lot near our homes. We started off with a new ball and continued playing until the thread, holding the seams together, broke. My mother rethreaded the ball, but after a few games, the threads would break again. Our final solution was to take the cover off the ball and replace it with black tape. This made for a heavy but sturdy ball. The worst thing that could happen was for someone to hit the ball over the fence of a not-too-nice neighbor lady who would not return the balls.

Ray and I read in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel that the American Legion sponsored a baseball tournament for players eighteen and under. Looking forward to playing with new baseballs provided by the American Legion, Ray and I organized our team, got birth certificates for each player, and got a nearby American Legion post to