I Learn the Multiplication Tables

While in Mrs. Rowe's third grade class I learned the multiplication tables. Actually, she announced that we would right at the first of the year. She further stated right up front, that while most teachers only teach the multiplication tables through the 9's, she required her pupils to learn them through the 12's. Many of my modern readers will doubtlessly wonder, "How could she get away with that?" Most of us probably wondered it too, but we were at a complete loss as to what to do about it. After all, this was Pocatello--what did we know about children's rights?--especially back then. She did have one thing going for her that kept us from looking actively for some kind of redress--her son was the star player--or at least, if not the star, on the first string, of the Idaho State College Basketball team. We all assumed (by "we all", I mean, of course, the boys in the class--who knows what the girls assumed?) that her son's prowess on the basketball court was due, if not entirely, at least in large measure, to the fact that his mother had made him learn his multiplication tables clear through the 12's.

And I must say that Mrs. Rowe really drilled us on them. So much so that I remember them pretty much to this day, although, admittedly I do occasionally stumble on some of the tough ones like 7X8 and 11X12. But she really hammered them home. I know that, because sometimes when I'm worried and I can't sleep, instead of counting sheep (or--as Irving Berlin suggested--blessing--counting blessings takes all the fun out of worrying) I try to extend my knowledge of the multiplication tables to the 20s. Since I tend to worry a great deal, it is not unusual for me to get well into my 19s before I finally fall asleep. But the next day, if for some reason I need to know, for example, 7X12 (for those of you who did not study under Mrs. Rowe and do not have a calculator handy, it is 84--and I want you to know that I did that very quickly without the help of a calculator), I know it instantly, but, if I need to know, for example, 16X19, I stumble, I mutter, I pause, and finally, in embarrassment I pull out a pencil and on the back of a credit card where I was supposed to write my signature, I work it out, or I go to my dresser drawer in search of a calculator. Such was the thoroughness of Mrs. Rowe's multiplication drills.

In reflection, I wish that my first and second grade teachers had been as thorough in teaching me addition and subraction--I use them almost every day. Multiplication I use probably a couple of times a week, and calculus and beyond, which I spent so much time and money learning in college, I have used a couple of times in my whole life. Upon mature evaluation, I realize that I would probably have been much better served if I had had Mrs. Rowe teach me partial differential equations and Dr. Harrison teach me the multiplication tables.

While I was in the third grade I had one of the choice experiences of my youth, Dad took me to see the Harlem Globe Trotters. Dad was so busy trying to get his practice established that I hardly saw him for the first years in Pocatello, so what few times we did have together were very memorable. The Harlem Globe Trotter experience was also memorable because my Sunday School teacher's husband was on the team opposing the Globe Trotter's. When I asked Dad why he was there, he explained that Br. Smith was on the local Chamber of Commerce team.

"Why would they have the Chamber of Commerce team oppose the Harlem Globe Trotters?" I asked genuinely puzzled.

"Oh they had to beat some really top notch teams in order to be chosen for the honor." Dad went on. "They had to beat out the Post Office Workers team, the Railroad Union team, the Garret Freight Lines team, and even the Hawkes Brothers Moving and Storage team. No Br. Smith and the others really had to work hard to be chosen."

Since Br. Smith's team was not doing well at all, I finally said, "Dad, they're not doing to well. Why didn't they get Mrs. Rowe's son's team to play them?"

"Mrs. Rowe's son's team!" Dad exclaimed incredulously, "They would never do that. That's the college team. They might very well beat the Globe Trotters. No, they definitely wouldn't do that."

"Beat the Globe Trotters!" it was my turn to exclaim incredulously, "I thought you said that the Harlem Globe Trotters were the best team in the whole world."

"Oh, they are," Dad explained, "for their game, but their game is not exactly basketball." Which, of course, was true. They drop-kicked the ball into the basket a couple of times. And one time I remember, one of the held Br. Smith at arms length with his hand in Br. Smith's face while the latter tried in vain to steal the ball. After a minute or so of that, the referee called a foul, and the Globe Trotter protested loud and long about the "unfair call". I decided that Dad was right. They were very good at what they did, but it wasn't exactly basketball and I very much doubted that they knew their multiplication tables through the 12s.