Last week the State of Illinois came out with the School Report Cards for 2005, looking at standardized test scores for the schools. As I looked at the list of the top 50 high schools in Illinois, I noticed a serious correlation between the top test scores and the top schools in football and marching band. It turns out that four of the top seven public high school marching bands in the State Championship are in the top 50 high schools:

School            Band Rank   PSAE Rank
Naperville North       2         13
Lincoln-Way Central    5         37
Morton                 7         23
Wheaton-Warrenville
South                  8         33

Other schools in the top 25 for PSAE scores also have very competitive bands; among them are Adlai E Stevenson, Prospect, Naperville Central, William Fremd, and John Hersey.

I also noticed that of the seven public high schools in the state football finals, five are in the top 50 test scores and four are in the top 20.

   
School            Finals Seed  PSAE Rank
Wheaton-Warrenville
South                  1          33	
Adlai E Stevenson      1           6
Maine South            3          17
Hinsdale Central       5           5
Barrington             6          17

Lincoln-Way East, which tied with Naperville North for second in the state band tournament, also has a #1 seeded football team. And if we look at 8A schools in eliminated in earlier stages of the state football playoffs, we see another slew of top 25 PSAE ranked schools: Naperville North, Naperville Central, Glenbrook South, Neuqua Valley, William Fremd, New Trier, Maine South and Lyons Township. In fact, 14 of the 30 public high schools in the Class 8A football playoffs are in the top 25 schools for the PSAE.

In each category, football and marching band, one or more of the top schools is a Catholic school, which do not take the PSAE.

My conclusion? Schools build a culture of accomplishment. In schools where students achieve in one area, they tend to achieve in all areas. Yes, it is about parental involvement, and having parents with enough leisure time (which implies enough income) to devote the time necessary to support their children. But that's not all of it. These schools motivate students, make clear their high expectations, and students rise up to meet the challenges. If you want to see committed, disciplined, focused kids that are our real future, they are on the football fields of the state in the fall, tossing the pigskin, playing a horn or twirling a flag. And for anyone who thinks that kids today have no discipline, just come to any marching band field tournament to see iron discipline, teamwork, massive preparation and sheer talent.

One of the distinct advantages of coming from a naval family is the privilege of having not one but three generations of sea stories to draw from. As it is Veteran's Day, I figured it would be a good opportunity to put down in writing two of my favorites. I certainly have my own sea stories, but some of my family's stories are so good they will live for generations. So here by way of salute to veterans everywhere are two tales from my family sea chest.

My maternal grandfather, Frank Waldemar Arthur Paulson, joined the U.S. Navy in 1917. He started his career as a radioman, but he decided this whole radio thing was just a passing fad and he had better get into a more secure line of work. So he became a yeoman, which is the U.S. Navy's term for a clerk. As he advanced through the ranks he held many jobs that today are separate rates in the Navy; for example, when my mother was born he was a reporter for the Stars and Stripes in Panama, a job that today would be done by the Journalist rate. By the late 30's he was in Intelligence; in today's Navy he would be an Intelligence Specialist but in those days he was just a Chief Yeoman working for the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI). In the early 40's he was dispatched to Singapore. As the Japanese invaded Singapore and the situation became more and more desperate, the Writer's Bar at the Raffles Hotel was hosting drinks on the house, preferring that the booze be drunk by the regular patrons rather than the Japanese. My grandfather and another ONI Chief were at the bar with a crowd of journalists. It should be no surprise he hung out with the reporters; they were in the same business, after all--intelligence is just news with a different slant. They packed down the drinks until it became painfully evident that it was time to go--they could actually hear gunfire. But where to go? My grandpa and his shipmate herded all the drunken reporters out of the hotel, across the Padang, over the Singapore River on the Fullerton Road Bridge, to Collyer Quay. At Clifford Pier, somehow my grandfather used his Naval Intelligence credentials to commandeer an Admiral's barge, loaded the journalists, himself and his colleague aboard, and took off after the Allied vessels that were evacuating Singapore and were rapidly going hull-down over the horizon. They caught up, and Chief Paulson proceeded to Surabaya, Indonesia where he worked until the Japanese invaded Java, at which point he evacuated overland across Java to catch a ship to Australia. On the way to Australia word finally caught up to him of his promotion to Warrant Officer.

In the mid 50's, long about the time I was born, my dad was assigned as the senior NCO for the Marine Corps Institute Company at the Marine Barracks, Washington D.C. (8th & “I”). While he was in the billet, the Sergeant Major slot was gapped, so for a while as a Staff Sergeant, my dad was Acting Sergeant Major of the Post at 8th & “I”. Around this time, the Army adopted their current Dress Blue uniform, and shortly thereafter my dad was part of a joint-service parade along with the U.S. Army's Old Guard, the 3d United States Infantry Regiment. After the parade, all of the Staff NCOs (Non-Commissioned Officers) retired to the Staff NCO Club to debrief the event. One of the Army NCOs asked my dad what he thought of their new uniforms. My dad proceeded to tell him all of the great things about the uniform: the color, the yellow piping, and so on--he went on effusively for a while--and then he wrapped it up by saying “They only did one thing wrong.” The Army NCO replied “What's that?” and my dad came back with “They put the yellow strip in the wrong place!” The doggie then punched my dad and a classic inter-service bar fight ensued, but things were resolved with no one going to the brig or stockade. The next work day, my dad was directed to report to a General (don't know if it was the C.G. of the Post or the Commandant). The General asked him what happened; my dad explained. The General then asked if my dad threw the first punch. “No, Sir!” he replied. “Dismissed!”, the General shot back.

See, the stories that get passed down are not the blood and guts stories. Sure, they saw their share of that; heck, my Dad was in the retreat from Chosin Reservoir. But they're just not the kind of thing that Scandinavian-American men talk about. They focus on the anecdote, the interesting and (probably in both these cases) sort-of-dumb things you do sometimes that work out fine in the end. My grandpa Paulson and my dad were both very proud to have served our nation, just as I am, and I want to thank all those folks out their laying their butts on the line for all of us every day. Happy Veteran's Day, and remember that we are thinking of you, and our prayers are with you.

Thanks to my old shipmate and Det Bravo member Barry Sinclair, there are a nice bunch of photos of our detachment's aircraft, Shaka 14, in flight and spotted on deck at the Aviation Enthusiast Web site HH-2D page. Thanks, Barry! I wish I could tell you which pictures I am actually in, but there is a 2 in 3 chance that I am in the cockpit in any of the pics. I have a really good version of Snidely, the Det B mascot, that I intend to scan and ship off to the American Helicopter Museum in West Chester PA, the final resting place of Shaka 14. You can still see a sketchy outline of Snidely on the left cargo door and I hope someday they will restore good ol' 149031 to her former glory. I am grateful that she did not go to the scrapyard but rather will be preserved as a part of the history of rotary-wing aviation. Anyway, thanks again Barry, for posting these pictures.

"Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf." —George Orwell