In Iowa, United States
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On the way to the H.A.C. – Court of Honor event we stopped at Barnes and Nobles bookstore. Long story – short version – I visited with an author who was there for a book signing. Her book explained how to record your life memories for future generations. I’ve already done that. Nine years ago I dedicated nearly one year to that project. I have a closet full of memory books. Back in the car I announced, ‘Hustle’ would make a great cache name!’ Ron laughed. He knows ‘the story’. Now you will know too.
‘Hustle’! That word haunted me for years! To this day I dislike that word. Why? Let me explain. The school year was 1960-1961. The school was Roosevelt Junior High in Cedar Rapids. The 8th grade student was me. The teacher was Mr. S.
Mr. S was in my opinion a very irritable, negative, mean-tempered, grumpy old man. I think I can honestly say Mr. S was my least favorite teacher of all time. My locker was located in a locker bay across the hall from his classroom. His classroom was on the second floor. Every afternoon, following the final dismissal bell, Mr. S stood in the hall near his classroom and literally hollered, “Hustle! Hustle! Come on now, Hustle!” over and over and over and over until the halls were cleared. He was trying to hurry us out of the building. I was a good student, cooperative and helpful, but when provoked, my ornery streak took over. I was not going to be ‘hustled’ out of the building. There was no need for it and I simply refused to comply.
Padlocks were required on all lockers. Mine was a combination lock. Do you know how easy it is to ‘accidentally’ mess up a combination? Starting over time and time again was a great ‘time waster’. ‘Forgetfulness’ was sometimes a problem too. I had a habit of locking homework in my locker. Result? More opportunities to mess up the lock!! Dropping papers, books and pencils always added to Mr. S’s aggravation. In inclement/colder weather time was needed to button my coat, step into boots and put on gloves. Poor Mr. S. Visiting with friends? That didn’t do much for his disposition either. I was nearly always the last student to leave the locker bay and most likely the second floor too. I was a thorn in Mr. S’s. side. Incidentally I never failed to smile and tell Mr. S ‘good-bye’ before finally vanishing from his sight.
Mr. S taught Citizenship. Citizenship was a required 8th grade class. I was less than thrilled when I learned Mr. S was the only Citizenship teacher. Not only did his ‘hustle’ irritate me, so did his grading curve. One day ‘I lost it!’ I was furious! I felt the grading curve on a test was far too strict. I missed 2 or 3 questions out of 25 and got a ‘C’. I really felt I deserved a ‘B’. Without raising my hand (class protocol) I interrupted him and the class and told Mr. S I thought he was very unfair. Others nodded in agreement. He slowly strolled to my desk and told me I had a choice. I could control my mouth or take an ‘F’ instead. I didn’t flinch! I called ‘his bluff’ and said, “I’ll take the ‘F’ please”. The look on his face was priceless. I attempted to hand him my test paper so he could change the grade. He refused to accept it. He just glared at me. I glared back. He walked away. I retained my unfair grade.
You will find the clues to obtain the cache coordinates hidden somewhere on this page. So – Hustle! Hustle! Come on now, Hustle!!
You can check your answers for this puzzle on Geochecker.com.
(No hints available.)
Last Updated: on 09/17/2016 15:29:10 Pacific Daylight Time (22:29 GMT)
Coordinates are in the WGS84 datum