Wednesday, January 13, 2016
It must have been between 1967 and 69 when the college campuses were rioting over the war that I organized a demonstration at Dover Elementary. I had gotten a printing kit that allowed you to set letter and print messages on sheets of paper. I wrote up demands, but the only one I remember is a return of milk prices to 5 cents because they had been recently raised. Anyway, I told my friends and some of them "marched" with me to the office. I walked in (I think alone) and asked the Secretary if I could see the Principal, Mr. Rideout. After a wait that seemed like 20 minutes, but was probably 3 to 5, I was invited into his office. I sat down on the wooden chair across from his desk and told him of our demands. He listened with a straight face as I remember it. We exchanged some sentences, all lost to me now, and I left. There were of course no changes that occurred except one important one. I felt ever linked to Mr. Rideout and gained both respect for him and for myself, having had a discussion that did not lead to trouble for either of us. And I was certainly in the weaker position, which he did not take advantage of. I am sure now that he was probably quite amused by the entire episode. That is my fond memory of Ernest Rideout, a very fine Principal.
Michael R. Dimock
