When I was a high school Freshman, my mother, father and I moved from Marinette to Amberg to live with my grandmother. Grandma lived during the summer with another daughter in Michigan and was not yet home for the winter, which she spent with my family. This winter and beyond, we would be living with her in her house.

      I was so anxious to live in Amberg that I came here 2 weeks early and stayed with family friends in their home across the street from the school. One reason I was so ready to move was that I had to take Latin in the Marinette system, and at 12 years of age, Latin was all Greek to me.

      There was also the class in music where we had to identify instruments by listening to them being played. As I had a deaf ear when it came to knowing different instruments, I would probably have flunked both of these courses.

      Because we had no gymnasium, all activities that drew a large audience were held in the upstairs of the Town Hall. Club meetings, class plays, wedding showers and even basketball games, were held here.

      When we were ready to present our class play, "The Key to Jims' Heart" we had to do it in that same upstairs, and because our class had only eight students, we had to recruit 2 players from another class. One of these was the boy who played Jim. Rehearsals went so well that we thought the real presentation would be a snap.

      Scenery for the plays were folded accordian fashion for storing and brought out and opened wide for actual plays. In the play, Jim was supposed to be locked in a room to the right, and I was supposed to have him tell me where the key was to let him out. But every time I asked, he whispered back, "What key?"

      Luckily the prompter came to my rescue and gave him the correct line, and the play went on. I could have happily given "Jim" a good swat but as he was my current bf at the time, I thought if I disabled him who would take me to the Jolly Time dances, and so decided not to break any bones, at least at that time.

      Some time later a wedding shower was held there.. At the top of the stairs, and just inside the door, a 2 burner oil stove heated the huge room. As we were preparing to leave, I turned the dial to the direction which I thought shut off the burners, when in fact, I turned it to the highest number, letting the oil flow into the burners full speed.

      We first noticed the error when we saw the flames beating against the transparent front of the burners. Luckily someone had the presence of mind to flip the switch on the back of the stove which stopped the oil from entering, but before this took effect, the tops of both of the burners had been blown off.

      By this time those of us who were left were making a frantic leap for the doors to get ourselves to safety. I may have been the last one getting to the long stairs, but I took those steps 3 at a time and passed everyone as though they weren't even moving.

      Luckily the building was saved, and is now listed on the State and National Register of Historic Buildings.