Harper Valley PTA
Rollie Lawson
Harper Valley PTA
Copyright
Harper Valley PTA
Copyright © 2023 Rollie Lawson
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-312-70549-4
Prologue
Harper Valley PTA
I wanna tell you all a story 'bout
A Harper Valley widowed wife
Who had a teenage daughter
Who attended Harper Valley Junior High
Well, her daughter came home one afternoon
And didn't even stop to play
And she said, "Mom, I got a note here from the Harper Valley PTA"
Well, the note said, "Mrs. Johnson
You're wearin' your dresses way too high
It's reported you've been drinking
And a-running 'round with men and goin' wild
And we don't believe you oughta be a-bringin' up
Your little girl this way"
And it was signed by the Secretary
Harper Valley PTA
Well, it happened that the PTA was gonna meet
That very afternoon
And they were sure surprised
When Mrs. Johnson wore her miniskirt into the room
And as she walked up to the blackboard
I can still recall the words she had to say
She said, "I'd like to address this meeting of the Harper Valley PTA
Well, there's Bobby Taylor sittin' there
And seven times he's asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice
Whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker can you tell us why
Your secretary had to leave this town?
And shouldn't Widow Jones be told to keep
Her window shades all pulled completely down.
Well, Mr. Harper couldn't be here
'Cause he stayed too long at Kelly's Bar again
And if you smell Shirley Thompson's breath
You'll find she's had a little nip of gin
And then you have the nerve to tell me
You think that as the mother I'm not fit
Well, this is just a little Peyton Place
And you're all Harper Valley hypocrites"
No, I wouldn't put you on because it really did
It happened just this way
The day my mama socked it to the Harper Valley PTA
The day my mama socked it to the Harper Valley PTA
Writer: Tom T. Hall
Singer: Jeannie C. Riley
Copyright 1968, Unichappell Music Inc. o/b/o Morris Music Inc.
***
Harper Valley PTA was a major hit in 1968 for singer Jeannie C. Riley. Written by singer/songwriter Tom T. Hall, it ended up as Number One on both the Billboard Hot Country Singles and the Billboard Hot 100 (the pop music chart). It debuted at number 81 on the Billboard Hot 100; a week later it was at number 7, the fastest rise in the decade.
Lyrically and stylistically, the song was simple and plain, with a catchy tune and without any choruses. It proved such a hit for Riley that in future years she would sing it twice during her performances, first at the start of a show, telling her audience she knew why they were there, and then again at the end of the show. Her audiences loved it.
Harper Valley PTA told the tale of a teenaged girl who brought a note home from school to her widowed mother. The PTA was complaining that the mother was wearing skirts that were too short, drinking, and running wild in the streets with men. They demanded she mend her sinful ways. That didn’t work out too well, since she barged into the next PTA meeting and read them the riot act, telling them just how much she knew about the goings on of the members of the PTA Board. Her daughter watched it all and bragged about it in the final verse.
The sins the PTA complained about fell into two categories, explicit and implicit. The explicit sin was drinking, with Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Taylor, Mister Harper, and Mrs. Thompson specifically named. The implicit sin involved sex, which was simply not something that could be mentioned in the 1960s. This was implied by Mrs. Johnson’s short skirts, Mister Baker’s old secretary having to move away suddenly (the implication being to either have a baby out of wedlock or to obtain an abortion), and the need for the Widow Jones to close her blinds. That sort of thing simply couldn’t be talked about in the 1960s except obliquely.
Several of the phrases and references in the song are somewhat dated, and might not be familiar to anybody who grew up in later years. First, the home refrigerators common in the ‘60s were almost invariably single door models, with a very small freezer compartment. They didn’t have automatic icemakers and had barely enough freezer space for a pair of ice cube trays. If you were going to have a party or ‘entertain’ as Mrs. Taylor does, you’d have to go out and buy bags of ice.
Another phrase that might not be understood by modern audiences is the final line, about how ‘mama socked it to the Harper Valley PTA.’ It’s hardly used anymore, but ‘sock it to me’ was much more common in the late ‘60s. Most people heard it first on a very popular comedy variety show, Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In, where it was one of the show’s catch phrases. Even Richard Nixon, then running for election as President, went on the show and asked, “Sock it to me?”
The final reference is to Peyton Place. Hardly remembered now, Peyton Place was a 1956 book and a 1957 movie, and then was made into a primetime soap opera in 1964. The show ended in 1969, but by then it was code for small town hidden secrets.
Anyway, this is my interpretation of an old favorite. Enjoy!
Verse 1 - Family History
I wanna tell you all a story 'bout
A Harper Valley widowed wife
Who had a teenage daughter
Who attended Harper Valley Junior High
Well, her daughter came home one afternoon
And didn't even stop to play
And she said, "Mom, I got a note here from the Harper Valley PTA"
***
1968
“Mom! You’re home early,” said Christina Johnson.
Margaret ‘Maggie’ Johnson smiled as she came in the door. “Worried I might find you up to something?”
Chrissie laughed. “That’s it, Mom. The girls were about to come over and raid the liquor cabinet before we started doing drugs. I’ll have to call them now and make sure the guys don’t come over, too.”
Maggie laughed and looked in the kitchen cabinet that served as the liquor cabinet. “Well, you can cancel the girls, booze, and drugs, but don’t get too hasty about the boys. Maybe we can have some fun.”
“MOM!” protested Chrissie.
Maggie just laughed. “Mister Morton had court and Mister Jason was going out of town. They told me to take the afternoon off.” Maggie worked as a legal secretary for Carson and Carson, Attorneys at Law; Morton and Jason Carson were brothers. Around the office it was everybody’s habit to identify them as Mister Morton and Mister Jason.
“How was school?” asked Maggie. Her daughter was fifteen and in her final year at Harper Valley Junior High.
“It was okay,” Chrissie replied with a shrug. “Can I ask a question, Mom?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“How old were you when you started dating?”
Maggie rolled her eyes and smiled. “Why?”
“Mom!”
Maggie simply snorted and sat down on the living room couch. She pointed to an armchair and said, “Have a seat.” Chrissie sat down and looked at her mother. “Dating, huh. I was probably around your age, fifteen or so. It depends, I guess, on how you define a date.”
Chrissie gave her mother a curious look. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, that can get a little complicated, just like everything else about dating and boys. If by dating, you mean two people boy-girl dating, then not for another year or so. Group dates, probably about fifteen.”
“Uh…”
Maggie nodded. “Okay, let’s take it from the start. I probably started looking at boys somewhere between thirteen and fourteen. I was in grade seven or eight, I guess. That was in the old school system.”
“The old school system? Not the school I’m in now?” Chrissie asked.
Maggie shook her head. “No. The old system had schools that dated back to World War One, maybe before. There was what we called grade school, which was grades one to five; middle school, which was six, seven, and eight; and high school, which was nine through twelve.”
“Oh, and I went to elementary school, one to six, junior high, which is seven to nine, and high school, which is next year, for ten to twelve.” Maggie nodded. “Why did they change?”
“The old schools were really old and falling down. The county decided to build new schools back in the Fifties. Anyway, I was in middle school, so I must have started noticing boys in grade seven or eight.”
“Noticing them? They weren’t around before?”
“They were around. I just didn’t notice they were different. Anyway, no way were your grandparents going to let me date boys when I was in middle school. That didn’t happen until I got to high school. They let me go on group dates when I was a freshman, your age now.”
Chrissie looked confused. “Freshman?”
“High school is supposed to be grades nine through twelve. Freshman, sophomore, junior, senior. Right now, you’re in the ninth grade, so you’re a freshman, but it doesn’t mean as much since you aren’t actually in high school. Next year, when you go to Harper Valley High, you’ll start there as a sophomore. Don’t worry, it will make more sense then.”
“Is that when you met Dad?”
Maggie smiled. “No, not then. I met him the summer between my sophomore and junior years. Before then, I simply went on group dates, you know, where a bunch of us girls would go to school games or dances and meet a bunch of guys. Your grandparents weren’t going to let me go on real dates until I was a junior, grade eleven.”
“What was Dad like.”
Maggie smiled. “He was just a dreamboat.” She grinned at her daughter. “I think you kids would say he was hot.”
“Oh, God! Gross, Mom, gross!”
Maggie laughed. “Hot and sexy!”
“MOM!”
Maggie just laughed, even as she remembered…
***
1950
“Hi,” said the tall guy.
“Hi,” said Maggie McSorley. She’d never seen the tall student before, but he was very big and very, very cute. “Are you new here?”
He nodded. “I just started here today. What’s your name?”
“Maggie. Maggie McSorley. Who are you? It’s late in the year.”
“I’m Tommy Johnson. We just moved here. Dad got a job, and we couldn’t wait until the end of the school year.”
Tommy Johnson was very easy for Maggie McSorley to talk to. He was so cute and dreamy she almost missed her first class, and she made him promise to meet at lunch. Then, after almost missing her first class after lunch, they met at the end of the day before Maggie had to get on her bus. By the end of the week, she was totally smitten with the boy.
That Friday, she asked her mother, “Mom, when did you start dating?”
“Meet somebody interesting?” Mary McSorley asked. She didn’t wait for her daughter to answer but replied, “Probably your age, sixteen or seventeen. Who is he?”
“He’s a new guy at school. His family just moved here from California and he’s a year ahead of me.”
“What’s his name?”
Maggie smiled and sighed. “Tommy Johnson.”
Mary rolled her eyes; her daughter had it bad. “Okay, time to remember what we talked about last year after you had to take Health class.” She motioned her daughter to sit down at the kitchen table with her.
***
1949
Maggie would remember Health class simply for the fact that it had been so confusing. None of her classmates had been any more understanding, and she had heard from some of them what the boys had been told.
The boys had been taught the class by one of the gym teachers, Coach Campbell. He had told them there were three rules:
- A boy needed to maintain his purity, so that he would be able to ensure the safety of the young woman who would one day marry and bless him with children.
- He should never ever commit the unpardonable sin of abuse because he needed all his vital bodily fluids to compete on the sports field. Abuse was not defined.
- There were coin-operated vending machines for foil-wrapped rubbers in the men’s bathrooms at the Valley View Drive-In, the Esso truck stop south of town, and a variety of gas stations, bars, and restaurants.
The girls were taught by the school librarian, Miss Crumkin, a fifty-seven-year-old spinster who lived in a home she inherited from her parents and that she shared with three cats. She gave the girls several rules as well.
- All men wanted it from women. What it was wasn’t specified, but all men wanted it.
- Holding hands with a boy would lead to disease.
- Kissing a boy would lead to pregnancy.
- Worst of all, holding hands or kissing would result in the girl becoming a ‘loose’ or ‘fallen’ woman, something to be avoided at all costs.
That was the part that she understood the least. She had seen her mother and father holding hands and kissing many, many times. They frequently walked down the street holding hands, and she had seen her parents kissing, sometimes even in public, but Mary McSorley was not what anybody would call a loose, fallen woman! She was a good mother, a good wife, took her family to church every week, and volunteered with the school and church.
When Maggie explained all this to her mother, Mary sighed and shook her head. Health class was not going to teach her daughter about the birds and bees, so it would be up to her. She stood and grabbed a banana out of the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and said, “Come on. We need to talk about this upstairs.”
Maggie followed her mother up the stairs and down the hall to her parents’ bedroom. Mary sat on the bed and patted the bed, “Sit here. We need to talk about sex.”
“Sex?” What was her mother talking about, and what was the banana for? Was her mother hungry? Maggie sat down next to Mary and heard the bedsprings squeak.
For the next forty-five minutes, Mary told her eldest daughter exactly how humans had sex and what was involved. She didn’t hide behind euphemisms or cute expressions but used real words for real body parts and real activities. Maggie couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and then it got stranger. Mary pulled open a drawer in her nightstand and reached inside. She came out with a small flat square. She tore it open and explained that inside was a condom, colloquially known as a rubber, that went on a man’s erect cock and kept a woman from getting pregnant. Then she took the banana and showed her daughter how a rubber went on it.